Fight night.
There was nothing like it. As much as Phoenix hated the whole thing, there was a certain intangible force of energy that reverberated throughout the room and every person in it. It ignited something within her, pulsing from the inside out. She could hardly stand still as she watched from her usual spot on the sidelines. All the fighters were required to watch from there, even if they were not fighting that night.
Those who came to bet and watch had already filled the room hours ago, their raucous noise like a wall of sound that hit you when you entered. Men and women alike laughed and socialized as though it were perfectly normal for them to come and watch two people fight to the death. Phoenix herself could never bear to witness the entire thing. Once she knew which way the fight was going, she'd turn away so as not to see the fatal blows. It turned her stomach just to think about it.
Yet in spite of that, she still couldn't deny that she felt more alive during these nights than she ever had. Especially on nights when Trent was fighting.
He stood with the other male fighters, unshackled since he was up tonight. No shirt covered the breadth of his muscled shoulders and chest. Her mouth watered looking at all his exposed skin, knowing how it would ripple as he fought, shining with sweat.
She must be ill, Phoenix decided. It was the only explanation for her thoughts. Little fingers of desire rippled through her at the memory of his lips on hers, and the heat his body had infused in hers while pressed against her back.
She needed to get a grip. Too late, she thought as her eyes widened at the image Trent made as he prowled toward her from across the room. Shit. Their eyes met and all she could do was pray he couldn't read where her thoughts had been only moments before.
“See something you like, princess?” he asked as he stopped just in front of her. A cocky smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and damn if it didn't make him even sexier.
“Sure do,” Phoenix answered, inwardly cringing at her breathy voice. It was time to regain some modicum of control - stat. “Tyler's looking mighty fine,” she continued, looking past Trent to the other side of the room where Tyler stood with the others.
He was shackled and wore a shirt, but whatever. She looked back at Trent and saw his jaw clench and she burst out into a fit of girlie giggles in her mind. Was the big guy jealous?
“But alas,” she sighed dramatically, “I'm afraid Missy has already called dibs. It's unfortunate.”
His eyes narrowed on hers, lips pressing into a firm line. She couldn't help it, her gaze dropped to those lips and a scorching heat wracked her body despite her best efforts. Places on her were suddenly awakened from what felt like a hundred year sleep. All her girlie bits ached and it downright pissed her off. When she finally stopped ogling him, she met his stare again and knew whatever was happening to her was written plainly on her face.
Trent leaned in, his lips a whisper away from her ear, causing shivers to course through her body. “You're a terrible liar,” he said darkly.
“Says you,” she shot back with a pout.
Great comeback, Phoenix
, she cursed inwardly.
He chuckled, pulling back. “I saw Pix today,” he said.
Her body cooled - slightly - at this. “Is she okay?”
A strange look passed over his face before he answered, “More than okay, I think.”
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Or, at least, I don't think it's anything. I don't know.”
“You're speaking more nonsense than usual, hot shot.”
“I know, sorry. Ignore all that. She's fine. Bastian is keeping her in her own room. She thinks he's on to us.”
Her eyes looked around wildly right then, afraid they were being watched even as they spoke. “Shit.”
He nodded, his face solemn. “Keep your eyes and ears open. And don't do anything stupid.”
She scoffed. “Me? Do something stupid?”
He gave her a “don't even” look before turning to see the referee step into the ring. “Looks like I need to go get ready.” He looked back at her. “How about a kiss for good luck?”
“I don't think so - “she said just as he said “Fuck it.” Suddenly his mouth was on hers in a kiss that almost had her orgasming right there. Seriously. Her nerves almost exploded just from the feel of his lips and tongue against hers. She gripped his arms, more to keep herself from falling than from wanting to keep him right where he was, she assured herself.
With a reluctant growl, Trent ended the kiss. They were both breathing hard as their eyes met. Phoenix didn't know what was going on between them, but at that moment she wasn't complaining. The bell sounding the start of the fight rang out, effectively breaking the haze surrounding them.
“Thanks for the luck, Princess,” he said with a wink, turning to go.
“Trent!” she called out before she could stop herself. He turned to look over his shoulder at her, waiting. She gripped her hands in front of her anxiously.
“Phoenix?”
Her mouth had gone dry and suddenly the noise and the energy in the room were suffocating. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want him to be here. This whole thing was messed up. She took a step forward, stopped by the shackle around her ankle.
“Just win, hot shot,” she said, her voice sounding tiny to her ears.
His smile was neither cocky nor condescending like it usually was. It was the kind of smile that gentled his face, making it been more handsome than usual. “I plan on it,” he said. Then he was off again, and all she could do was watch.
Her heart raced at what had just happened between them. They'd actually managed to communicate with each other without biting the other's head off. They'd even used their actual names. It was all so confusing, this feeling he sparked inside her.
Phoenix didn't know what to make of it. She was so used to being in control and not needing anyone else, that this sudden, intense need she felt for him was unsettling. Having Trent with her through this whole ordeal actually made her feel safer. Since when did she need anyone but herself to feel safe?
Her stomach dropped as he ducked through the ropes of the ring to face the other fighter. Scanning the crowd, she saw Garrett, Missy and Pixie all standing to the side, watching Trent with trepidation. Well, Missy seemed to be casting more anxious looks Tyler's way, but the other two were focused solely on the fight about to happen. Here they all were, and none of them could do anything to stop what was about to happen.
What if Trent lost the fight for once? She couldn't even think of it. Forcing those thoughts away, she stood up straighter and more confident, putting her faith in Trent's ability. He wouldn't appreciate her doubt, and she wasn't the type to be melodramatic.
Trent would get through this and then they were all going to get out of this shit-hole before Bastian started putting the puzzle pieces together. That was all there was to it. Phoenix wouldn't accept defeat, and she knew Trent wouldn't either.
CHAPTER SIX
Fuck it was cold. Seamus pulled his jacket around him tighter, keeping his head down against the slanting rain. His footsteps echoed eerily in the empty streets. His stomach growled loudly as he quickened his steps. Dinner would already be over, but he was sure one of the girls would have saved him some. Not that it would be very edible, he thought with a sigh.
Hopefully Bridgette had cooked, since she was considerably better than Vi, Sam, or Charlotte. Of course, Charlotte hadn’t been eating or doing much lately other than lying in bed. He was actually pretty worried about her, and he knew Pete was almost beside himself because of it. Getting sick was never good during these times, since the only doctors lived in the Upper section, and rarely agreed to see lowers, since they never had enough money to pay them with.
Pete had begged her to at least try to eat, but she’d refused, waving him off and telling him it was just a bug and she’d get better soon. Seamus just hoped it would happen soon, because she was tiny enough as it was. Someone like her couldn’t afford to not eat.
“Hey you!”
His head snapped up to see a NWO soldier step out of a doorway, blocking his way. Shit, he thought, mentally slapping himself. Normally he’d be a lot more aware of his surroundings, but his thoughts had gotten away from him. Slowing down, he advanced toward the man quickly taking stock. He was shorter and scrawnier than Seamus. This would be easy enough, he thought, so long as the man didn’t use his gun on him.
“Stop right there,” he ordered, unclipping the pistol from its holder. Great, Seamus thought with a sigh. He stopped walking, noticing how the other man’s hand shook. A newbie? It sure looked that way.
Raising his hands, he walked a bit closer so he could lunge and get the weapon before the man did anything stupid.
“I said stop!”
“Hey, man,” Seamus said gently, keeping his hands at his sides. “I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just on my way home, mate. My wife has a nice hot meal waiting for me.”
The soldier narrowed his eyes at him. “There was a curfew set in place last week. You’re out past it.”
Seamus nodded, taking another step toward him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “I know, but I got held up so there’s nothing I can really do about it. It’s not like I have a car,” he said with a laugh.
The other guy’s mouth didn’t so much as twitch. He just kept staring at Seamus as if he knew what he was saying was bullshit. Maybe this guy wasn’t as dumb as he looked, but either way, only one of them was going to walk away from this, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him.
Before he could ask another question, Seamus made his move, lunging forward and gripping the barrel of the gun, pushing its aim away from him. The man grunted in surprise, his other hand slashing out to push Seamus away. There was no way he was going to move him, Seamus was too big for this guy.
Twisting his hand sharply, he bent the man’s wrist until he cried out, dropping the gun. Seamus did a quick sweep of the area to make sure buddy didn’t have friends, and then threw a left hook right in his jaw. He fell backwards with a loud thump, looking slightly dazed.
His head whipped up to glare at Seamus as he went to stand, but Seamus stopped him, levelling the gun at his chest.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
“You’re dead, lower,” the man spat.
“Am I?” Seamus felt his chest with his free hand, cocking a brow at him. “I feel pretty alive actually.”
“You’re a rebel, aren’t you? I knew it! I knew it as soon as I saw you. All you rebels have that arrogance about you.”
Seamus smiled broadly. “Thanks, mate. That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time. I like to think I have swagger, but arrogance will do too. So long as you realize how much better I am than you, New World piece of shit.”
The soldier’s eyes bugged out. “You think you’re going to walk away from this? The only way you get to leave is to kill me, you rat.”
Seamus shrugged, aiming the gun at the man’s head. “So be it.”
Anger radiated from narrowed eyes. Muscles were tense, ready for a fight. That wasn’t Trent she was seeing this from. Oh no, Phoenix wasn’t even watching the actual fight within the ring. The crowd hollered and cheered as the two men faced off, but Phoenix had no idea how Trent was fairing just then, her attention elsewhere.
Pixie stormed across the room, leaving Missy and Garrett to watch after her in confusion. Phoenix bet her face had the identical look as theirs, as her eyes followed her friend. What was she doing? Phoenix watched in a mixture of fascination and sudden horror as she realized the point of destination Pixie was headed toward.
Get the fuck out
, she thought as the targets continued on with their conversation, completely unaware of the little spitfire walking up to them. Phoenix had to bite back a laugh as Pixie ripped the woman's arm off of Sebastian Black. She went toe to toe with the woman, keeping her face close to hers as she said something. God, Phoenix wished she could hear what she was saying. She guaranteed it was priceless.
Why Pixie had done any of this, she didn't know, but it was funny as hell to see the normally calm girl all fired up. Everything about her was visibly wound tight as she continued to give the woman shit through clenched teeth.
It was even funnier considering the woman towered over Pixie in her high, high heels. Yet you wouldn't even think Pixie noticed. She was like one of those small, yappy dogs that took on much larger ones.
It couldn't be helped anymore, Phoenix laughed out loud, loving the drama. This was way more entertaining than the real fight happening. Which reminded her...Phoenix quickly took a second to glance at Trent, relieved to see he was holding his own in the ring. The other fighter already had a bleeding nose and cut above his left eyebrow. Other than the sweat glistening off of Trent's back, he looked just the same as always.
Turning away, she went back to watching Pixie just as Bastian finally stepped in, pulling her back. Pixie fought against his hold as he plastered her to his chest, his arms wrapped around her. He dipped his head, saying something into her ear that didn't appear to calm her at all. Then he motioned to one of the guards that had approached the situation when they'd noticed what was happening, and said something to him before releasing Pixie. The guard grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her away forcefully.