by LJ Baker
For just that one second, her attention was lost and her face met Penelope’s large fist.
Dammit.
She stumbled back, seeing stars, but stayed on her feet. She had another minute left in the round to get through. She just had to stay out of the way for sixty short seconds more. The second round was all she needed to cover bills for the week.
Win, or lose.
Ronnie wasn’t the type to be distracted by a man and knowing that Luc had that effect on her only pissed her off more. She used the added anger to fuel her attack as she readied herself, but before she could pounce, she was knocked off balance.
Whack.
Penelope got her in the side of the head and she hit the cage with her face. Luc frowned and she felt his disappointment settle over her like a thick mist. That was all she needed. Not that what this guy thought meant anything to her. Except when she saw the corners of his mouth go down, it did. But it was the last bit of motivation that she needed.
Ronnie jumped out of the way, missing Penelope’s next punch and spun around, landing on the woman's back. She punched wildly, head, back, kidneys, anywhere she could make contact before the giant tossed her off. Penelope managed to fling her to the mat and fell on top of her, landing punch after punch to Ronnie’s face.
An iron tang coated her tongue and ran down the back of her throat. Ronnie was no stranger to the taste of her own blood. Once she’d swallowed so much she thought she was going to choke to death on it. That wouldn't happen tonight.
Penelope was tough, but Ronnie was scrappy. She flipped her over and took charge of the punches. Penelope was spending more time shielding herself, than punching at that point, which was good. Ronnie split the girl’s mouth open and her blood splattered across the mat mixing with the splatters already left by Ronnie.
With each punch, her rage grew, fusing with each cell in her body. It was as if she was split in two, the one fighting a mere ghost, only intent on causing pain. Hitting. Punching. Annihilating. Everything around her went dark. All she could see were her fists flying down in front of her. Singularly focused in on what her body was doing, Ronnie’s mind shut down. It wasn’t the first time she’d been lost in rage, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, but for the fight, it was exactly what she needed.
The crowd screamed in a deafening roar around her and she almost didn’t hear the buzzer. Even if she had picked up on the sound, she was too far gone to register it. It took Lizzie pulling her off to bring her back to reality. It was probably more the stark white color of her friend’s face that really got Ronnie’s attention.
“Hey, come back to me. The round is over.” Lizzie grabbed Ronnie’s wrists and tried to keep from being hit. She was unsuccessful and took a hard shot to the cheek. Another few seconds and Ronnie would have been disqualified and not made a cent.
Ronnie looked up at Lizzie and shook her head a few times. When her mind cleared, she snapped her neck back to find Luc, but he wasn’t there. She searched the crowd. He was gone. She started to think she’d imagined him from the start.
“You okay?” Lizzie pried up her eyelids and shined an obnoxious light into her pupils. Lizzie’s cheek was already starting to swell and turn purple, but Ronnie only barely registered the difference.
“I’m fine. Quit it.” Ronnie pushed her friend off and grabbed her water bottle from Lizzie’s pocket. She had another two minutes to pull her shit together and prepare to get her ass kicked all over again. Penelope was in her corner fuming. Ronnie was pretty sure she could see smoke coming from the woman’s ears as she prepared herself for the kill.
“The best thing you can do is go down on the first punch. Just give it up. You can’t win this. Be realistic. She’s going to hurt you bad.” The distraught look in Lizzie’s eyes went unnoticed by Ronnie. All she wanted was back in that cage.
“I’m fine.”
Lizzie grabbed her shoulders and shook her until they made eye contact. “Are you joking? Someone is going to get seriously hurt out there. Between the sheer size of her and the way you went after her like a rabid coyote, someone is going to be injured.”
“Yeah, her.” Ronnie spit blood onto the mat, then took another gulp of water, swished it around her mouth, and swallowed.
“No, not her. You, Ronnie. You’ve lost it.”
“I’m fine.”
“You aren’t taking this seriously. You scared me out there.” Lizzie wiped sweat off her forehead and slumped her back against the cage. “That was the worst you’ve lost it, like ever.”
“You’re overreacting. It’s a fight. We aren’t playing patty-cake.”
“If you saw the look in your eyes, pure rage, like you wanted to rip her arms off and shove them up her ass, you’d understand. Even for you, it was bad.”
“I just need to get through this fight. After that, you can give me the lecture, okay?” Ronnie held her fist up and waited for Lizzie to relent and tap it with her own. After a pause and a sigh, Lizzie did just that.
“Hey, did you see a dark haired guy watching? Up close by the cage, looking right at me?”
“Are you kidding? There are people everywhere. Are you expecting some guy? Is that why you’re so distracted?”
“I am not distracted.”
“Yes. You are. Besides the fact that you are going to get yourself killed out there, why do you think I want you to throw the rest of the match?”
“Because you bet against me and will win a wad of money?”
“I don’t give a shit about the money. I don’t want you to end up in the ICU again.”
“It was one time.” Ronnie waved off Lizzie as she stared at her with her mouth dropped open.
The warning buzzer sounded and she returned to her place in the middle of the mat. Penelope was smiling at her around her mouth guard like a feral animal. Ronnie was pretty sure she growled at her at least once and drool dripped from her lips making her look rabid.
Shit.
She was in trouble. There were some fighters that could fake crazy face to psych their opponent out. That wasn't this. Penelope couldn't be faking that well. The chick was definitely off balance.
Maybe Liz was right and she should just go down on the first punch and pretend to be unconscious. She’d probably get hit a few more times, but at least then it would be over. She had next to no chance to win, so getting out of there with the least amount of injuries was the best idea.
The buzzer sounded and the women tapped fists before the round began. Ronnie tried to take Lizzie’s advice, letting Penelope pop her right in the mouth. She went down, flat on the mat, and Penelope followed her down to pound the fuck out of her face. Somewhere between the third and fourth punch, and when the ref was about to call it, the fury took over once again.
In her mind, Ronnie saw the photos from her parents accident, the mangled mess of their car, her mother’s shoe bloody and sitting alone in the middle of the street. She watched the images of her distraught siblings huddled together when she walked into the house, knowing she was forever responsible for each of them. She felt her own life slip away from her. Everything she ever cared about or knew, gone. Her life, forever changed.
Even though she knew she was being hit, she felt none of it. It was as if she was completely numb to the pain for a good minute as the rage built. Somewhere in the back of Ronnie’s mind, she knew things were going south, but she didn't even try to stop it.
Ronnie flipped the bitch off her and started pounding into her liver. Her face was ugly enough, so she ignored there. She was looking for damage. All thoughts of right and wrong left her as she concentrated her strength into Penelope’s left side. Ronnie didn’t even try to block the blows to her own head. Each one became weaker as Penelope groaned from the liver blows.
For a quick moment, Ronnie thought she actually had a fair shot at winning, then Penelope kneed her to the crotch and flipped her onto her back. It was all down hill from there.
It was good to have feeling back again and Ronnie welcom
ed the pain. It washed away the bad. Everything wrong in her life disappeared, replaced with physical pain instead of emotional pain. She knew how to deal with that. She relaxed her body, accepting the blows as a cathartic warming spread over her.
Two punches to the face later and everything went black.
***
“Did I win?” Ronnie forced her eyes open one at a time and tried to focus on the blurry room around her. Nothing looked familiar. Was she still in the ring? Was it a hospital? She didn’t hear the familiar beeping of machines, so it was probably not the ICU.
“Of course not, you idiot. You’re lucky you’re alive.”
The voice was familiar. Lizzie? She tried to speak, but her jaw ached. It was too difficult to open her mouth. She tried to sit forward and look around, but something held her in place. Whether it was a person, or just the weight of her own body, she couldn’t tell.
Ronnie wanted to pick up her arms to swat at the figure above her trying to stitch something on her forehead, but her limbs refused to cooperate. They felt like dead weights. Things were worse than she thought.
“Just stay still and let me finish, Ms. Falcon. Unless you want a big scar across your pretty face.”
Honestly, she didn’t care.
When her vision came into focus, she realized she was in the make-shift medical room that was set up at every fight. The frat boy who ran the events, Joe, hired a nurse, or med student, whoever he could get, to patch up the fighters after a match. She’d been stitched up back there on more than one occasion. It wasn’t the best medical care, but it was good enough.
Lizzie was standing in the corner with her arms folded across her chest. Her lips were pressed together in her typical I’m pretending to be mad at you, but I’m really worried sick, look. Behind her stood a few others waiting for ice packs, stitches, and the okay to get back out there. There were usually at least six fights a night. She would have to personally thank Joe for matching her up with Penelope.
Fucking bastard.
After the twat with the needle and thread finished her job, Lizzie was at her side. “You scared the shit out of me, you crazy bitch. I thought you were gonna throw the second round?”
“So did I.” Ronnie groaned. It was hard to breathe and even harder to talk, but she struggled to sit upright, refusing to fail this time. She managed it, with Lizzie’s help. “You collect?”
“Yeah.” She flashed a thick envelope.
It was all that mattered. Cuts and bruises faded. Bones healed. Nothing else paid like fighting. Well, nothing that didn’t require her to take off her clothes, and she wasn’t about to do that. She had to have some boundaries.
“Okay, let’s get out of here.”
“Uh, there’s someone here to see you actually.” Lizzie looked through the crowd in the room, then turned back. “I tried to get rid of him, but he wasn’t leaving until he saw you.”
“Who?” Ronnie hopped off the table and swayed on her feet. She had to brace herself on Liz to keep from hitting the floor.
“Don’t know. Some total hottie with a serious attitude problem. I told him to wait in the hall. Want me to go get him?”
“Black hair and eyes? Around thirty?”
“I think his eyes were green. Here sit back down and I’ll go see if he’s still out there.”
Ronnie did what she was told, mostly because if she didn’t, she was likely to fall over and faceplant the concrete floor. Penelope did a real job on her. She glanced around the room hoping to see the bitch sitting on one of the tables getting her own injuries tended to, but no such luck. A few moments later, Liz appeared in the doorway with Luc, as she’d expected.
Or hoped.
It could have been either.
“I knew I saw you out there. What are you doing here? How did you even find me?” Ronnie’s voice came out softer and with much more effort than she expected. It made her sound fragile, and that was definitely not how she wanted to come across, especially in front of her hot new boss.
Luc frowned as he looked over her face and arms. “You assume I’m here for you?”
“You are standing here in front of me and you don’t exactly look like the type who hangs out at underground cage fights.”
“I think my interests might surprise you.” Luc’s eyes sparkled and he shot her a crooked smile. There was something about him that told her she might not want to know about his other interests, that he was dangerous, but she didn’t get the impression he would hurt her. Not unless she was begging him to anyway.
He ran his hand over her arm, circling his fingers over each bruise. “I might be able to help with these.” His hand went to her face, gently tracing the outlines of each swollen lump and cut, of which there were a lot.
“How’s that?”
“Come back to the bar. I have some… healing herbs.”
“I need to get home.” Ronnie pushed his hand away and slid off the table. He grabbed her arm to keep her from hitting the concrete with her face, but she shrugged him off as soon as she was steady. Or as steady as she was going to be. “I have responsibilities and it’s already late.”
“Surly you can spare an hour, then I will drive you home myself. Besides, you wouldn’t want anyone you live with to see you like this, now would you?”
His voice was soothing, melodic, and it drew her in. She was nodding her consent before she realized what she was doing and he led her out to his car. Even as she was walking, she knew she should tell him no, go find Lizzie and have her take her right home. But she followed along like a lamb to slaughter. He did have a point though, she really didn’t want the kids to see her all torn up. Not that they wouldn’t see most of the aftermath, but they didn’t need to see her at her worst.
“I don’t know if…”
He opened the door to the dark car, but the dizziness overtook her. The last thing she needed was to hit the pavement, but she was going down. Blackness enveloped her.
Blackness and strong, warm arms.
Chapter Five
“What the hell happened to her?” Harley bent over the unconscious girl and frowned.
Ronnie’s breathing was slow and erratic. She squirmed and whimpered, obvious signs of pain, with an unfamiliar vulnerability about her. It brought Luc an uncharacteristic pang of sympathy that he couldn’t quite shake.
“She got her ass kicked by a very large woman. At least I think it was a woman.” Luc knelt next to Ronnie and held his hand an inch over her forehead, concentrating his thoughts on healing her. He left a few bruises and the stitches, so she wouldn’t be too suspicious, but fixed the rest, including the concussion that led to her being unconscious in his bed, and three broken ribs. If only she’d known just how close she’d been to puncturing a lung. Maybe that would have made her rethink her Friday night activities.
The bed creaked under their combined weight and Luc had the strangest feeling that she shouldn’t be there just yet. Okay, so it was his idea to put her in his bed, but he had to admit, she did look damn good there. Maybe too good.
“I don’t remember the last time I saw you heal a human.” A line etched between Harley’s brows and she rested one hand on her hip. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“What? Bringing her here? I couldn’t just leave her unconscious on the sidewalk.”
“No. The whole thing. The game, the women. This woman.”
“All of that was your idea and what is the problem anyway? It’s not like I’ve asked her to move in and spend the rest of her mortal life with me. Well, I guess her afterlife too. I brought her here to help her. It’s no big deal.”
“That is the big deal. You’re helping a human. You’re fucking Satan, for hells sake. You’re supposed to punish, not save. And anyway, you aren’t supposed to be using your powers to help you in the game. We did agree to that.”
“I’m not using them to help myself. She’s injured quite badly. There is no reason to make her suffer.” Luc furrowed his brow and looked over his friend. “Harley,
what is this all really about?”
“She got herself into this mess. Maybe she deserves to suffer a little. How else will she learn her lesson? Anyway, she’s not going to drop dead, or anything.”
Luc finished with Ronnie and left her to sleep. There was a part of him that wanted to stay, watch over her as she slept, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. Although, he might not have pushed it as far back as he could have.
He took Harley by the elbow and led her across the room to the bar for a drink. Luc reached behind the counter for a bottle of his favorite bourbon and poured two glasses, pushing one at Harley.
“I just don’t want all this to change you, make you soft. You know the underlings are just looking for a reason for an uprising. And Az said—”
“I see.” Luc’s mouth tilted down into a frown.
“You see what?”
“Azrael has been filling your head with nonsense again.” Luc took a sip off his drink and looked back over his shoulder at Ronnie. “You don’t have anything to worry about. And it’s not the first time I’ve healed a human, you know? I seem to recall a time when you were human. Did our relationship make me soft?”
A sharp smile spread across Harley’s face. “Uh no. Soft isn’t what I remember.”
“Oh you naughty little lesbian. What will the other lesbians say about you?” Luc elbowed her in the ribs and went back over to the bed. Ronnie was starting to wake up and he wanted to be there when she opened her eyes.
“Back then, they would have said they weren’t lesbians, or risk being burned at the stake.”
“Very true. But those stake-burning idiots got what they were owed.” Luc chuckled. “In fact, they are still getting it. Every Tuesday and Thursday the witches have a pig roast, as they call it.”
“I love Hell.” Harley lost herself in a faraway look for a moment, then turned back to Luc. “To be serious for a minute, I am starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.”