The bell rings and this time I’m the aggressor. I keep it unemotional and clinical.I show him and the judges how well I know the moves he attempted previously. The only way to tell I’m getting through his defences is the buzz in my muscles as they start to strain after each sequence. In close range, I usemy forearm and shins, and when we’ve got more space in our grapple, the ball of my foot snaps or the kiss of my knuckles keep him on the edge of sloppy fightback.
But he manages to land a vicious strike to my liver, and it’s textbook how quickly it drains my fucking energy. Just like that I get messy as my agility all but drains. He catches my legs together and we both fight to stay on our feet. Twisting around each other, I try to protect my liver, but it leaves me wide open on the other side and the next moment he’s squeezing the living fucking life out of me as he stands, my head dangling straight down. I repeatedly slam my knee against his shoulder, trying to escape his hold. The distance between us and the mat shifts as he kicks his legs out in front of him, dropping to his ass. And it’s fucking lucky we’re both covered in sweat and that I’d been belting against him, or he would have spiked my neck. Lucky for me, I hit the mat with my shoulder before kicking free of his armlock.
The buzzer sounds and I roll, staggering to my feet and putting some distance between us because now I am ready to kill him. I fucking despise fighters who resort to illegal moves when the going gets tough.
The referee gets in his face and points him back to his corner. Maybe the other fighter is too amped up on fucking juice or he’s just a cunt, but the roar of the crowd when he shoves the ref in his chest is the sound of my sweet victory.
I stand there and do the necessary, but I’m so far away from here too. Pretty much all of my attention is currently watching her leave.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
TRISTAN
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Simona asks for the tenth time.
Dragging her closer under my arm, I kiss the top of her head, hoping to ease her unnecessary angst. “If this is what you want to do, Simona, I’m never going to stand in your way.”
She looks up at me, her green eyes brimming full of conflicting emotion and lots and lots of barriers. Sim having her guard up is nothing new. Honestly, I look up in awe at this girl’s strength and have complete faith in her. If she says she wants to go somewhere she can’t tell me about, then I’m not going to hold her back.
“I need to, for me more than anything. Plus, if I don’t go now, it will look like I’m full of fear, which I am not. I’m just tired of playing games,” she says half cryptically. And the other half of what doesn’t need to be explained is she’s referring to the pack she’s been promised to. Except it’s no promise of her own, but instead a pledge made generations ago.
Waiting at the front door is one of the guys that usually watches over her. He never talks, he barely looks in my direction,and in all honesty, I don’t return the favour either. Simona trusts him and that’s all that matters.
“Ping me,” I say, giving her a final cuddle.
She shrugs without turning around. “I’ll probably just text you.”
“A lot then. Text me lots I mean.”
“And I’ll call you. But go… you’ve got a mystery of your own that probably needs to be congratulated, if you catch my drift.”
“Simona Vanderling, are you seriously suggesting I go make out with that sweaty, muscled up, testosterone charged MMA fighter?”
“Look at you go, Tris, putting all the clues together by yourself.” She smiles, being a sweet bitch to me.
“What time are you flying out?”
She checks her watch. “I’ll only need a few hours, so straight after that. And don’t forget I’m away for ten days but please for the love of my sanity, do not ask Bella over to watch movies again.”
I snort a laugh, making people around us stop and stare, also making Big Tom get a little growly in his quiet assuming way.
“I don’t know, Sim, she’s such great company. Anyway, I’m waiting on a call and then I’ll be gone too. Ho’s at Verdune, Raney’s probably still being railed a hundred different ways…”
“And blaming her heat, instead of admitting she’s got it as bad as they do,” Simona adds.
“You got it.”
Simona stops laughing as quickly as she started, picking up on the detail instead of the big picture, “I didn’t know you got a modelling gig”.
“I’ll let you know who with soon enough.” I ignore her comment before giving her tush a push.
She leaves without a backwards glance but my phone buzzes.
Who are you going away with? I want to know.
King
