Riot

by Tillie Cole

  As we made our way through the narrow hallways, I wondered why Master was doing this. I believed I wouldn’t be given back to 901, no matter the outcome of the match. But from the minute the match ended, Master had ignored me just like he did when I was first given to 901. Like he had to distance himself from what he was about to let happen.

  I racked my brain for answers, but when I arrived at 901’s cell, those questions fled my mind. Right then, I didn’t care about the consequences. I was here with 901. He had fought for me. Obeyed for me.

  I wanted this with all my heart.

  When the guard opened the door, a chiri was just finishing sewing up 901’s wounds. The blood that had been covering his skin was now covering the towels on the floor.

  901 looked up at me in the doorway. Just as the chiri made the final stitch to the wound on his chest, 901 knocked her hand away and got to his feet. His large body swayed and his face screwed up in pain. Then his eyes fell on mine and never moved.

  The chiri gathered her things and quickly fled the room. The guard slammed the door shut behind her. We simply continued to stare. The ragged wounds from days ago and today had ravaged his muscled body. His hair was slick with the remnants of the bloody fight and sweat. He looked beaten and torn.

  901 suddenly stepped forward. My heart leapt into my throat as he approached. With a gentleness I wasn’t expecting, 901 lifted his hand and ran his finger softly beside the sprouting bruise on my cheek and the broken cut on my bottom lip. “You are hurt,” he whispered, a deep pain to his rough voice.

  And he spoke to me in Russian. He spoke in our language.

  Reaching out, I placed my hand on his shoulder, the only nontainted area on his body. “So are you,” I whispered in response.

  He swallowed, and a swooping feeling looped in my stomach. Standing here with him now felt different. Something had shifted between us. It was indescribable. It was raw, but it made me feel alive.

  Something 901 thought had immediately changed his mood. His head fell forward and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Master took you,” he said plainly. I tensed.

  His fingertip ran down to the bite mark on my shoulder, and I winced at the tenderness of my skin. 901’s jaw clenched and he bit out savagely, “One day I’ll fucking slaughter him. And I’ll make him pay for everything he’s ever done.”

  “Shh,” I soothed, moving even closer. 901’s body was like an open flame, radiating a searing heat.

  His skin twitched when I got to my tiptoes and placed my hands on his face. His blue eyes were wide, solely focused on me. I smiled as I felt his rough stubble under my fingers. My smile faded seeing a large cut to his face. 901 raised his hands to wrap around my wrists.

  “What?” he questioned hoarsely.

  “You keep hurting yourself to save me.”

  His eyes dropped to look at the ground. When he looked back up, he said, “This time you were hurt trying to save me, too.”

  I fought back the lump in my throat and said, “I couldn’t … I couldn’t bear … I didn’t want Master to kill you. I want you to live.”

  901’s forehead fell forward to press against mine. I didn’t care that he was covered in blood. All that mattered was that he was alive, breathing and before me. Wanting me as much as I did him.

  We stayed that way for minutes. Eventually, I slid my hand in his and guided him toward the washing area of his cell. A shower was fixed to the far wall. Releasing his hand, I walked over and turned the handle. I backed away to where 901 stood. Reaching up to the clips that kept some of my hair off my face, I released them, letting my long hair fall forward. 901 watched me the entire time with a focused intensity to his eyes.

  Next, I moved my hands to the clasp at my shoulder, the one that held up my dress. When the clasp released, my dress pooled on the floor, leaving me completely bared to his eyes.

  901’s nostrils flared as his gaze dropped to my breasts. Then a harsh gasp tore from his lips and he snarled, anger contorting his face. When I glanced down to see what had him so mad, I saw large bruises forming on my stomach and ribs. I briefly closed my eyes, then forced any bad thoughts away.

  901 looked down to my face when I stepped closer to him. Silently, I raised my hands until they lay on the waistband of his pants, and slowly pulled them down.

  901 hissed, his muscles taut as I dragged the fabric over his hips and down over his legs. I swallowed back my nerves as 901 stepped away from the gathered material at his feet. Feeling the heat of warm water from the shower billowing around the room, I reached down and took his hand in mine.

  901 stared at our joined hands. Leading him forward, I guided him under the spray. 901 followed me without complaint. Second by second, the blood fell from his skin. I watched as he shut his eyes and tipped his head back under the stream.

  He was so beautiful. When I was close to him, his incredible height and width made me feel so safe. I hadn’t experienced that before. At least, I didn’t think I had. And I definitely hadn’t experienced that since I had awoken as Master’s High Mona.

  Shaking those thoughts away, I smiled as 901’s head fell forward. He sighed as the remnants of the match washed away.

  Seeing a bar of soap on the ledge beside the shower, I picked it up and stepped under the spray. Sensing me close in, 901 opened his eyes. He never once looked away. Lifting the soap to his chest, I ran it over his identity tattoo, tracing each number slowly and with care.

  901’s skin bumped even though the water was warm. Smiling, I looked up to his eyes and my heart skipped a beat at the look upon his face. 901 lifted a hand and stopped my hand on his chest, then he lifted his fingers to my mouth.

  I didn’t dare move as his fingertips grazed over my lips. With water sluicing down his face, he said, “You smile at me. No one ever smiles at me.”

  I took his hand on my lips and brought it to lie over my heart. “You make me want to smile.”

  “Why?” At his question, his eyes searched mine deeply for the answer.

  “Why do you make me smile?” I clarified. He nodded. I almost cried at the look of desperation on his face. For why he needed the answer. Stepping as close as I possibly could, I said, “Because you never hurt me. When I was forced into your cell. Even when you tried to keep me away, you still kept me close. You took me when I needed you, and you speak to me. Speak to me, like I am not a whore.”

  “You are more,” he told me roughly. “My more. 152, my more.”

  Tears filled my eyes and I said, “I wish I knew your name.”

  901’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I knew yours.”

  I smiled again, unable to do anything else with the sudden lightness that had filled my soul. Moving the soap along his chest and down to his stomach, I said, “Let me clean you. Let me erase today.”

  “Only if I then do it to you,” he said. A flash of pain crossed over his face. His attention dropped to my thighs, and I saw anger stealing the brief happiness that we had found.

  “No,” I said, and he shook his head. “Don’t think of it.”

  “He took you,” he said. “I can’t stand that he took you. And hurt you … and has you whenever he wants.” His breathing increased in speed, and I saw his neck tense the more he thought of our reality.

  “Stop,” I urged. He inhaled deep and long. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips against his chest, right over his tattoo.

  901 sucked in a quick breath at my touch. Stepping back, I made sure he met my eyes. “When it is me and you alone, there is no Master. When we are here, in your cell, there is no Blood Pit.” A smile tugged on my lips. “There are no matches to the death. There are no quarters where I am held captive all day. There is your heart beating in sync with mine. Speaking the language of our old home, in the company of the male that is becoming my new home.”

  “Moy prekrasnyy,” he whispered, and I closed my eyes as the words attached to my soul. My beautiful, he had called me. My beautiful …

  His.

  Inhaling deeply, I
murmured, “Moy voin,” in return.

  My warrior.

  Any residual anger fell from 901’s face, and I began moving the soap over his skin. He was silent and unmoving as I cleansed him of his fight. But his eyes never left mine. When I had finished, he took the soap from my hands and brushed the wet hair from my face.

  “Krasivaya devushka,” he said softly as he ran the soap gently over my arms. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch. He moved around me, savoring the moment. He stopped only when he reached my thighs. I opened my eyes to see him on his knees, reaching out to run his finger where Master had made me wear his seed.

  I placed my palm on the side of his face and guided him to look at my face. “He isn’t here with us,” I reminded. 901 nodded. He remained on his knees, and I wondered what he was about to do. My heart swelled when he moved his head forward and tentatively pressed a kiss on my hip. When he pulled back, he pressed his hand to his mouth.

  Then I understood. I thought of his hand holding mine as Master kissed me in front of 901’s cell. And I remembered his face as he watched Master’s mouth attached to mine, taking what wasn’t freely given. There was devastation in his stare, the usual glare of anger in his eyes … but there had been something else there too, something I hadn’t recognized—envy, curiosity … want.

  “You’ve never been kissed before,” I realized. I already knew why. 901’s head fell forward in embarrassment. I made sure he lifted his head once again with my hand below his chin.

  I saw something new in 901’s eyes as he looked up at me from his knees: shyness.

  It was by far the most beautiful he had ever looked to me.

  Stepping back, I held out my hand. 901 got to his feet. He hesitated as he looked at my hand. I stayed strong and never pulled it back. Finally, after several long seconds, he slid his hand in mine. Reaching behind him, I turned the handle on the shower and switched off the water.

  I led him to a small pile of worn, faded towels. Releasing his hand, I picked up two. Handing him one, 901 quickly dried off the water. I did the same. I ran it over my wet hair, separating the thick strands with my fingers. When I dropped the towel, so did 901.

  I took his hand again and led him to the bed. I sat down first, 901 following quickly after. Our hands remained clasped on the mattress between us, until I lay down. 901 did the same. I faced him.

  Now that he was clean, the stitches keeping his wounds together were more prominent on his skin. A stab pierced my stomach as I looked at the large one across his chest and the new slash across his face. For some reason the scarred male from my dreams flashed across my mind. I always thought that I was imagining him. But something about how 901 was watching me, was here for me, open and raw, made me confide, “I see a male in my head sometimes.” My eyebrows pulled down as I tried to hold on to the image of his face. “I don’t know who he is, but I think he is from my past.” I covered my heart with my hand and said, “In here, I feel he was someone special to me. But I don’t … I can’t remember who he is.”

  Swallowing, I asked, “Do you ever have memories like that? You are a champion, have been for a long time. Maya tells me that with the lesser dose of drugs we get, my memories will start returning, but they haven’t yet.”

  “Maya?” 901 questioned.

  I realized my mistake, but trusted 901 enough to reveal, “My chiri. Her name is Maya.”

  His eyes widened. “You talk to her, you use her name?”

  I nodded my head. “She is more than just a number.” I breathed deep and said, “The male from my dreams told me that I am more than just a number.”

  “We are,” 901 said, and I heard the hard edge to his statement. “We are,” he said again. “I had never thought about anything until recently. You are right, I have not been on the heavy drugs for years, but I never changed from what I was.” He took a fallen strand of my hair between his fingers. “I never thought about anything but winning in the pit. And the male that would one day finally kill me. The one that would take the championship from me and free me from this hell. From being under Master’s control.”

  “And now?”

  “Now,” he began, and then paused. He stayed quiet, then a red blush coated his cheeks. “Now I think about a lot of things. Why are we here? How I now want to be free.” He sighed and brought my hair to his nose. He inhaled, dropped it, then added, “And you. I think about you. I didn’t want to. But I do, and now I don’t fight it.”

  “Why?” I whispered.

  This time, he placed his hand over his heart and said, “You have made me feel, in here. You have made me want things I never dare let myself want. You have made me want to fight for survival, not pride. I no longer want to die on the pit’s sand, like a warrior. I no longer want to die at all.” I held my breath, exhaling only when he said, “You make me want to live.”

  I shifted closer, and closer still, until my face hovered only a fraction from his. 901’s eyes immediately focused on my lips. “Krasivaya?” he questioned, using the word “beautiful” instead of my number.

  I smoothed the damp hair from his head. “You have never been kissed. And while I have been kissed many times, probably by many different men, I have never given a kiss freely. Although I remember none but those Master stole from my mouth.” 901 rolled onto his back. His skin was still slightly damp from the shower. “It may seem like I am different from you in that regard, but I am not.”

  “I know,” 901 agreed, and waited for what I would do next.

  My heart raced as I licked my lips, and then without giving myself a chance to overthink what I was about to do, I lowered my mouth until my lips pressed against his.

  901 tensed beneath me. I froze, thinking I had pushed too far, but when his hand slid into my hair and he pulled me even closer, I knew this was what he wanted, too. Our lips were slow moving and shy, but as the seconds passed, 901 deepened the kiss. And it was unlike anything I had felt before. Where Master was hard and cruel, 901 was gentle and caring. He was a contradiction: soft and kind, but possessive and certainly took what he wanted.

  I moaned against his lips, and when we broke away, we were both breathing hard. I didn’t say anything; neither did 901.

  Glancing down, I saw my hand had splayed upon his chest. His skin was warm. I could see that he had hardened at my touch. Compelled to explore, of my own free will, I let my hand drift down his abdomen and felt his scarred skin. 901 hissed as my hand moved toward his hard length. His hand suddenly covered mine, and my eyes snapped to meet his.

  “Don’t,” he said quietly. He looked away. I leaned over him until his face turned toward mine. Before I could ask what was wrong, he said, “The drugs make you need my release. Master takes you when he wants.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want to. You have no duty to serve me.” Releasing his hand from mine, he placed it at the side of my neck. I closed my eyes at the comforting feeling, then opened them when he said, “You are more than what you are forced to do. You are more than a mona. You are free from the drugs right now, able to choose. Us, just like this … is enough.”

  A lump clogged my throat. When I chased it back down, I pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, “I have never lain with a male of my own free will. I have never had that choice available to me.” I sighed, the weight of those words truly settling in my heart. Rearing back just a fraction, I added, “But I am choosing to be with you. I am choosing you as my first. Despite the other males I was forced to be with. Despite Master. You will be the first in my heart. The only one I have given myself to freely … with no drug forcing my hand.”

  The emotion staring back at me from 901’s eyes undid me. I lowered my mouth and took his in a soft kiss. I let my hand retrace its steps, until 901 broke away. Pushing my hair from my face, he confessed, “You are already the first that I chose.”

  I blinked as the realization of what he was saying sank in. “I was your first … ever?” I questioned in disbelief. This male was formidable. Maya had to
ld me that the champions were gifted with monebi. 901 had been a champion for a very long time.

  “You are the champion. Master must have gifted you monebi often.”

  He looked away. “Yes, but I never took them. I had the guard take them away.”

  A sudden rush of disappointment and guilt panged in my stomach. I shifted back, gaining some space. 901 stopped me by wrapping a large, muscled arm around my waist. “What?” he pushed, concern written on his face. “Do you not think me a worthy male, knowing you were my first?”

  I shook my head, emotion welling in my chest. “No, that’s not it,” I whispered.

  901 searched my face. “Then what?”

  “That night,” I divulged, thinking back to being thrown in this cell. “You didn’t want me. You called for the guard to take me away, but Master had ordered that I stay. When the drugs flooded my veins, the other champions told you to take me…” I shut my eyes in humiliation. When I opened them again, I hushed out, “You were forced to take me. I took your choice away.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek, but then 901 was above me, his hands jailing mine at my sides. “Stop,” he snapped, and I saw the famed Pit Bull shining through. I relaxed, knowing he wouldn’t hurt me. 901 lowered his head and said, “From the first time I saw you on Master’s arm, I wanted you. I have never looked at a female the way I looked at you. And I have never wanted a female like I want you.”

  “But the drugs made you react to me. You had no choice.”

  “I had a choice,” he argued. Then, with a surprising tenderness, he pressed three light kisses along my neck. When he raised his head, he said, “I chose to take you. I chose to hold you close.” He inhaled. “I chose to make you mine.”

  My skin broke out in shivers at his words. 901 released my hands, and I wrapped them around his neck. His hard chest brushed against my own, and I said, “I wish I knew your name. I want so much to know the name of the male who has brought me home to his heart.”