“You need to go to the other side of the gym, where you’re supposed to be,” the first guy ordered.
“And you need to go back to your cell,” said the other, turning his attention to Phoenix. “You’re done for the day.”
She threw up her hands, backing away from the three of them. “Don’t worry boys,” she said, meeting Trent’s gaze for a moment before she turned. “I’ve had my fill of beefcake for one day.”
He needed to get a hold of himself. The plan had been just to pretend to be flirting with Phoenix, so he could get close enough to speak to her without anyone else overhearing them. What had happened instead was a fucking mystery to him. There was something about the scent of Phoenix that always seemed to drive him nuts.
The taste and feel of her on his lips lingered as she left the room with one of the guards. Giving himself a good shake, Trent started hitting the same bag she had, working out the tension that had suddenly washed over him.
What was it about the little hellcat that set him off? He didn’t know. What he did know was that there was some sort of spark between them that was undeniable. Even if both of them would deny it all they could. The second his lips had met hers, he’d been lost. All he’d wanted to do was deepen it even more until she was fused into him, and he in her. It was definitely something that needed to stop.
Or did it? He continued to rain down punches on the bag as his mind whirled with thoughts of what it might be like if the two of them just had some fun together. Would that be so bad? Obviously they couldn’t have an actual relationship. They couldn’t even stand one another. He shuddered to think what it would be like if they were actually a couple. He could only imagine how often they would fight.
But if it was just a bit of fun, that couldn’t hurt, could it? Two consenting adults, working off a bit of steam was perfectly normal. How would he approach such a topic with someone like Phoenix though?
He gave himself another shake. There was no way he could suggest such a thing. He could just picture the look on her face if he did. She’d likely slap him in the face, rather than agree to an arrangement like that.
Still, it was tempting. Trent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman. Maybe that was why he was thinking these thoughts about Phoenix, of all people. It didn’t hurt that she also happened to be hot as hell. It was too bad her personality clashed with his so much. They were both too stubborn and opinionated. These were pointless thoughts, he knew. Despite whatever burned between them, it would never happen.
Continuing with his reps, he didn’t notice the others who had entered since Phoenix’s departure until something small and black caught his eye from his peripheral vision. He looked over, his heart almost stopping at the sight there.
Pixie was stretching on the far side of the room, her face its usual indifferent exterior as she surveyed the area. Their eyes met, and relief so strong washed over him at seeing her safe and sound, he almost broke out into a grin.
He needed to know where she’d been and what had been happening, but wasn’t sure how to get close enough. Guards watched from the sidelines, but none seemed to be too focused on him. Moving quickly, Trent made his way over to Pixie.
The guards were about to think very little of him, but he didn’t give a shit. He needed answers, and the only way to get them was to play the same game he had with Phoenix. He just prayed Pixie didn’t turn around and knee him in the balls.
Trent cringed at the thought, but didn’t let it stop his advancement across the room. Pixie bent forward, stretching her hamstrings as he approached her. Trent let out a low whistle, partly to keep up the ruse, but mostly to warn her of his advance.
“Looking good,” he said, loud enough for anyone else to hear, so they just figured he was hitting on another fighter.
Pixie straightened, one brow cocked at him in question. He was used to Pixie’s looks. The girl didn’t speak much, but her expressions usually spoke volumes. The one she was levelling at him now told him his comment and demeanour were not appreciated. Stepping closer to her, he made a show of being interested in her, while he dropped his voice to a mere whisper.
“Where the hell have you been?” he asked.
Both eyebrows rose at this, and he knew if she were Phoenix he’d be having his ears seared off with expletives right then.
“We’ve been worried,” he added, to soften her reaction. He could tell it worked as the stiffness of her posture relaxed slightly.
She looked over his shoulder, her eyes scanning the room, before responding. “Bastian has me in a room close to his,” she replied.
Trent sucked in a breath of surprise. “Why?”
“He’s on to us,” she said, still scanning the area. “He knows something is up, and has decided keeping me close so he can watch me will make a difference. I need to warn Garrett and Missy so they don’t do anything stupid.”
Trent cursed under his breath. “Are you locked in?”
She nodded. Opening her mouth to say something else, she stopped herself, her eyes going wide at something behind him.
Knowing a guard probably approached, he raised his voice again, wrapping his arm around her waist. “What’s the matter, baby, you don’t like what you see?”
Her gaze flew to his in warning, but she didn’t say anything as footsteps stopped near them.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
Trent looked over his shoulder to find a very pissed-off looking Bastian glaring at him. He looked back to Pixie, wondering why the man was so mad, but saw just as much confusion there as there probably was on his own face.
“You have two seconds to step away from her before I beat the shit out of you,” Bastian warned, his voice a growl.
Trent unwound his arm, moving back slowly with both hands raised. He didn’t know what was going on, but clearly he missed something. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn jealousy was clearly written on Sebastian Black’s face as he looked at the two of them.
CHAPTER FIVE
“You seem to be making your rounds today,” Bastian said, stepping closer to Trent. It took him a second to realize it, but the man had conveniently positioned himself between Trent and Pixie. What the hell was going on?
Forcing himself to appear relaxed, he gave him a grin, shrugging nonchalantly. “You know how it is. I’m just trying to have some fun. It’s been a while,” Trent replied. A while was an understatement, he thought.
Bastian took another step toward him, his eyes darkening with anger. “Let me tell you how it is,” he bit out. “If I see you touching her, or even near her again, I will personally see to it that you truly experience just how much worse this place can be. You think this is a game?”
Trent opened his mouth to reply but another voice cut through the tension.
“Bastian, calm down.”
Both men turned, stunned, at the calm voice. Pixie wasn’t looking at him, her eyes trained on Bastian. Trent could count on one hand how many times he’d actually heard Pixie talk. To hear her command the man in front of him so simply left Trent speechless himself. Shockingly, it seemed to have the desire effect.
Bastian finally tore his gaze away from Pixie, releasing a deep breath. Looking at Trent again, it was plain to see he was still pissed, but controlling it now. “You want fun? You're in the ring tonight. How's that for fun?” He jerked his head toward the practice ring. “Get in there and let’s see how you do against the new guy.”
Trent turned around to see Tyler standing just inside the ropes, his eyes watching the three of them curiously. Shit. Trent was not looking forward to sparring Tyler. They'd have to make it look real, and looking at Tyler now, he knew this was going to hurt. With a resigned sigh, Trent approached the ring while keeping an eye on Pixie as well.
She and Bastian said something to each other, her little hands balling into fists at her side showing she was clearly not happy with the man. Then Bastian stepped closer to her, blocking Trent's view.
> He wished he could hear what they were saying, but whatever it was, it ended with Pixie stomping off toward the corner where Tyler was leaning. She hopped up on the outside of the ring, the two of them bending their heads together to speak lowly.
Trent looked back at Bastian to see him watching them through narrowed eyes. Feeling his gaze on him, Bastian met his eyes, anger simmering in their blue depths.
“Get in the fucking ring,” he barked, finally moving, his whole body visibly tense.
Trent bit back the smirk threatening to break out. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear the man was having a grown up version of a tantrum the way he stormed out of the room. Trent watched him leave, then turned to see he wasn't the only one. Pixie's eyes followed the man as well, an angry blush coloring her cheeks. Something was going on, but he sure as hell had no idea what.
Slipping through the ropes, he rolled his shoulders, stepping up to meet Tyler in the middle. They grinned at each other, despite where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. This was too similar to all the times in the past when they'd both been soldiers in the General's rebel forces, sparring for fun.
“You ready for this?” he asked, hopping from foot to foot.
Tyler laughed, scratching his beard, unfazed. “Are you?” he replied, his brogue thick. “I don't think you know what you're up against, brother.”
His smile stretched even wider. “I'm not scared of you, Scott.”
Tyler's deep laughter rang out through the room. “If you say so.”
It didn't take long for Trent to realize how stupid this comment really was. If there was anything scarier than this new Tyler, he didn't know what it was. The man was a fighting machine, too fast and skilled for even Trent to contemplate.
By the end, the whole room had stopped to watch them, and Trent was left bent over in his corner, fighting to get air into his lungs. Tyler stood calmly in the opposite corner hardly breaking a sweat, Pixie watching from behind him with a blank face.
“Looks like you finally met your match,” Bastian said from the sidelines. Trent hadn’t even noticed he'd returned to watch them. “Not such a hot shot anymore, are you?”
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.
Underground (New World Series Book 4) Page 4