I can’t help it. I freeze, fists still raised.
“Oh yes.” Jason circles me slowly, scenting wounded prey. “Marco took a shine to me from the beginning. Extra training sessions where we’d workup quite the sweat.” His voice drops, intimate. “Smuggling me out of here to his villa for fancy dinners and hours and hours of sex. Sound familiar?”
“Shut up.” My voice falters, and I want to die. “I don’t care what happened between you.”
“He got bored of me, of course. He always does—that’s Marco’s specialty. He’ll make you feel like you’re the only person who’s ever touched him, like you’re saving him from this place. Then one morning you wake up and it’s over. No explanation. Though I lasted a lot longer than some of the guys I’ve watched him toy with over the last few years.” Jason’s smile turns vicious. “You didn’t even make it a week.”
My heart is pumping so fast I can barely breathe. My next words explode out of me. “I don’t fucking care. You’re pathetic. You need to get the fuck over Marco.”
Jason’s face darkens. “Over him?” He steps closer, voice dropping to a snarl. “You think I’m over here pining for him like a lovesick puppy?”
He swings. I duck, drive my shoulder into his stomach, and we go down hard on the stone floor. Jason’s elbow catches my ribs, knocking the air from my lungs. I roll, trying to pin him, but he’s stronger than he looks.
“You little shit!” Jason gasps, bucking me off. “You need to learn your place.”
His fist connects with my jaw, and I taste blood, copper and salt flooding my mouth. The sound of our struggle echoes through the common room—flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing, the scrape of bodies against stone.
“Stop, or I’ll press the alarm for the guards.”
The voice cuts through our struggle. Cas.
Jason freezes above me, his fist still raised. Blood drips from my split lip onto the stone floor.
“You’ll see,” Jason whispers, his face inches from mine. His breath is hot and sour. “Ifyou survive long enough, you’ll get to watch him pick the next one, and you’llsee.”
I shove him off me and scramble to my feet, chest heaving. Jason straightens his shirt, that twisted smile still playing at his mouth.
Cas stands by the corridor entrance, his burned arm held awkwardly in a sling. With his good arm, he shoves me toward our cell.
“Well, I hope you’ve slept, because it’s lights in ten minutes.”
“Did we wake you up?”
“Nah. Got moved out of Evander’s room to our cell late last night.” Cas winces as we walk. “Haven’t slept a wink since. The pain won’t let me.”
His voice is steady, but I catch something underneath it. Something that has nothing to do with his burned arm.
“How much does it hurt?”
Cas shrugs with his good shoulder. “Like someone held my arm over a bonfire. Which they basically did.” His voice is matter-of-fact, but I catch the tremor underneath. “It’s not just the arm, though,” he says quietly. “Every time I close my eyes, I see…” He stops walking, his good hand flexing at his side. “I hear that sound. The Deathball hitting his skull. Over and over.”
I don’t know what to say to that. There’s nothing to say.
“And… I keep thinking about how he looked right before—” Cas’s voice cracks slightly. “Andreas. He was scared. Really fucking scared. And I just… I kept going.”
“You had to.”
“Did I?” He looks at me then, his eyes hollow. “After the first blow, he was done. But I kept hitting him. I couldn’t stop.”
“Listen, you did what you had to do,” I say. “Don’t think about all that right now. You were incredible out there. The way you took Andreas down—that was smart.”
“Smart.” Cas barks a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling murder now?”
We reach our cell, and Cas sinks onto his bunk with a suppressed groan. The small space feels tiny after the villa, after silk sheets and wine and hands that knew exactly how to touch me.
“Anyway, what the fuck were you doing fighting Jason in the dark?” Cas’s voice snaps me back to the present. “You need to be careful not to die before your match.”
I groan and sink onto the floor, resting my head against the cold stone wall. “I’ve fucked up, Cas.”
