by Nova Drake
Blood trickled from a cut on the arm he’d grabbed. She glanced at the injury in confusion, not sure what caused the oddly clean slice. She checked his hands for a weapon, but when he opened his fists they were empty.
Dropping back into her fighting stance, Justice decided it was time to end the fight. She didn’t want to find out the hard way that he was playing dirty.
Pacing herself, she waited for an opportunity. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her back as she fought off his attacks. Her patience paid off when Draven reached for another grab. Justice latched onto his wrist, spinning under his arm. Maneuvering behind his back, she dragged his wrist up between his shoulder blades. Kicking the back of his knee, she dropped him, gaining even more leverage. Justice held and waited for him to tap out. Except he didn’t.
He struggled in her grip, forcing her to wrench his arm tighter. If she pulled much harder she’d dislocate his shoulder, which she preferred not to do. Weaknesses could equal a death sentence in the wrong situation. Most days she couldn’t walk down the street without ending up in the wrong situation, so she didn’t take the idea lightly. Not for someone she assumed was relatively harmless.
“Tap out,” she demanded around the mouthguard, still bleeding from her lip. Her words were mumbled, but she knew he’d understood her.
Draven growled, tugging away again. But she had the leverage in this position and she used it to tighten her hold. If he moved any further, he’d dislocate his own arm.
“Tap out,” she gritted out again.
The crowd booed at her for giving him an out. Other fighters would have just fucked up his arm and taken their win. And if Justice had thought he’d deserved it, she would have too, but Draven was just a run of the mill asshole if her instincts were to be trusted.
With another growl of frustration, he gave the signal, and the ref called the fight. Justice was declared the victor as a pissed off Draven stomped off to the lockers.
Justice was not surprised to see most of the bets placed against her. People never learn. They saw a smaller female fighter and assumed she’d get her ass kicked. Just like the assholes that made the mistake of targeting her on the street pretty much daily. One day they would learn. The fact that any of them placed bets on her at all was proof that she’d started making a name for herself. The man at the fight board winked and stuffed a wad of cash into her hand as she strode past to her locker with her head held high.
Justice scrubbed most of the blood off before returning for her boots and weapons. She slowed when she saw Draven leaning against the locker with a glare. Crossing her arms, she cocked her head in question.
“What the hell was that?” Draven growled.
“A fight,” Justice drawled out, making the unspoken idiot obvious.
He grabbed her arm and pushed her against the lockers. She barely reacted, unimpressed with his anger. “The Underground isn’t the place for mercy.” He spat the words as if they disgusted him. “If you want to fight with the men here then you better learn to fight like them.”
She’d grown up sparring with family and some habits died hard when she didn’t feel her opponent deserved to be maimed, but was he seriously pissed that she didn’t hurt him more? She rarely held back in a fight, and this was the thanks she got. She shook her head.
“Are you saying you weren’t done getting your ass kicked? I’d be happy to finish the job.”
She pushed off the lockers to grab her things but he shoved her back, pinning her. Again. Irritation flashed over her as he leaned into her face.
“I’m saying, if you’re going to be pulling punches, then don’t come back. You don’t belong here. You’re too soft.”
Soft? She almost laughed. She had never in her life been called soft. She’d been dangerous even as a child. Still, she shouldn’t be surprised. Hell, she was starting to see his point. Why had she held back? They weren’t friends, she didn’t have any. And he sure as hell wasn’t family, she didn’t have that anymore either. Ugh, maybe she was getting soft. She tried to shift forward to give herself some space but he refused to move.
Justice nodded. “I see what you’re saying.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, but he quickly recovered. Thinking he’d chased her out of there if the smug look was anything to go by. Justice threw her head forward, wincing at the sickening crunch. Draven yelped and reared back, holding his now bleeding nose.
“There ya go. It’s broken. I didn’t hold back.” She yanked her boots and weapons out of the locker and stormed off toward the exit. “Just like you wanted.”
***
Justice found a dark corner in one of the stage rooms to unload her weapons from her boots, sliding them into place before pulling her boots back on with jerky, irritated movements. Some people were so annoying, this was supposed to have been relaxing. Flopping back into a chair, she huffed out a frustrated breath and watched the show for a few moments, both tired and worked up at the same time.
Familiar fingers tickled her arm and another firmer set worked the knots in her shoulders. Justice closed her eyes and groaned at how amazing it felt. God, when was the last time someone had touched her this way?
The woman’s long hair brushed her arm as she leaned in. “Did you change your mind?” her sultry voice purred.
Justice opened her eyes to look up at the man rubbing her shoulders and back to the dark-haired woman trailing her fingers seductively down her arm. Justice smiled.
“You know, I think maybe I did.”
She didn’t bother getting their names, it wouldn’t matter after tonight. She let them each take a hand and pull her to her feet, leading her off to their private room.
Chapter 2
Justice stretched her sore but satisfied body before extracting herself from the sleeping couples limbs. Apparently, they were cuddlers. It was almost funny that after the hours of experiences she’d just had with the two of them, this was the unfamiliar part.
For the briefest of moments, she almost wished she could join them. It would be so easy to let them wrap themselves around her as she drifted off. She shook off the ridiculous idea before it could take hold. No one could be trusted enough for that.
Justice wasn’t shy about sex or pursuing whatever physical desire struck her. But actually sleeping with someone was far too dangerous for someone like her - someone that had made as many enemies as she had. Those kinds of frivolous attachments brought nothing but trouble.
With a spine cracking stretch, she dressed and snuck out. There was other business to handle before she could leave the underground.
Along with the various avenues of entertainment, the Underground was also a place with unofficial business connections. Business connections that liked to hide from her. Good thing Justice was always up for a challenge.
The place was a maze of attractions, it would be all too easy to get caught up for hours hitting every area available. Luckily Justice knew her targets proclivities.
Sliding to a silent stop, Justice pressed her ear to a locked door, smiling when she caught the unmistakable deep, gravelly voice. She pulled a lock pick from her wrist cuff and knelt to put her skill to work. Pressing a finger to her lips, she slipped in and gestured outside the door, offering a few bills to the room’s occupant.
Once the woman stepped out, Jess carefully pressed the door closed behind her and turned to address her guy. The man she was looking for was naked and strapped to an upright frame. Grinning, she strode forward. This couldn’t have worked out better if she’d planned it.
Picking up the paddle that her predecessor had left behind, she gave a solid smack to his already reddened ass and the man let out a deep appreciative groan. As much as she liked having him at her mercy, she needed to stay on his good side - or as close to it as she could after this stunt. So instead of continuing the ruse, she walked around the contraption so he could see who was delivering the blows. His eyes opened in confusion and he groaned in annoyance when he saw her grinning face.
<
br /> “Goddammit Justice! Where the fuck did my girl go?” His gruff voice was quickly losing its lusty haze.
Justice flipped the paddle in her hand. “Just taking a break. I’d be happy to help you out instead.”
Archer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. My dick is now permanently conditioned to shrivel up at the very sight of you. You’re a huge pain in my ass, in completely the wrong way.”
She snorted. “I’ll be sure to add that to my business cards. I’ll make this quick. I’m looking to pick up a job.”
Archer let out a snort of his own. “No. Now go get Lita back in here. You’re killing my buzz.”
Justice didn’t move, just tipped her head, waiting for the answer to change.
Archer groaned. “I don’t have any jobs right now.”
Again Justice didn’t respond. Instead, she dragged a chair over, the metal legs scraped loudly against the floor much longer than the few feet of space should have required. Making a show of getting comfortable, she plopped down in front of him, sinking back and stretching her legs out.
“For fuck’s sake, Justice! No one’s looking for some no-name little girl to get themselves killed fucking up a job they need done.”
“You say that like I’m not sitting here, right in front of you - still alive after every job I’ve done.”
“You’re missing the point. There’s a lot of competition. It’s my job to find the most qualified man for the job.”
“Save the bullshit, Archie. You and I both know that I’m perfectly capable.”
His eye twitched at the nickname. “My reputation is on the line if you fuck something up or get caught.”
“And it’s on the line when anyone else fucks up, too. Can we skip the back and forth? I’ve got shit to do, but I’ll sit here all night if I have to.” Justice tipped her head in thought. “What happens if we bring Lita back in to finish the job? Does the paddling override the Justice-induced dick shriveling? Or is it the other way around?” She smacked the paddle against her palm a few times while she thought it over.
Archer closed his eyes and mumbled something about reaching his limit for crazy-ass women under his breath. “Untie me,” he barked.
Justice held back the gloating and released him from the contraption. He walked over to a chair, ignoring the pair of pants draped over it, and plucked a small device off the seat. He flicked through a few options before pausing, his finger hovering over the screen. With a sigh, he wrote a few details on a piece of paper and handed it over.
“Don’t fuck it up.”
Justice skimmed the details before aiming a glare his way. “What the fuck, Arch? You’re way low-balling me on this!”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “You’re a wild card, no reputation, no track record. You’re not going to make what the pros do.”
Her track record was actually impressive, but since they weren’t hired jobs, she didn’t have anything to show for it. That was the problem. Only higher rungs of the operations would have decent information, and she needed to build a name for herself to get there.
“This is a shit job and half of what the fee should be. Give me something else.”
Archer crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Take it or leave it, Justice. And I really don’t care which it is.”
Justice shook her head. “When I get this done, I better start getting the same respect as the others.” She stormed for the door.
“Respect is earned.” Archer’s reply followed her into the hall where his mistress was waiting.
Justice ground her teeth but smiled sweetly at the woman as she handed her a few extra bills. “Make sure he can’t sit for a few days.”
Lita’s pouty, red lips quirked up as she tucked the bills into her ample cleavage and gave Justice a wink. Justice grinned. She might not have gotten quite what she was looking for, but somehow getting the last laugh made it a little better.
It hadn’t been the first time she’d asked Archer for a job, but it was the first time he’d caved. Though it really was a shit job. He would learn not to underestimate her. Eventually, they all would. Her father had been well known in the Underground, not that she could allow anyone to make the connection. No one truly knew who she was and that was for the best. But one day she would get the same respect he’d gotten, and she would use that to finish what he couldn’t.
Chapter 3
Even in her uncaffinated state, Justice felt eyes on her as she made her way toward the diner in one of the rundown neighborhoods she frequented. Getting mugged before coffee would be just her damn luck. Her eyes burned with exhaustion and she’d hoped to make it to the door before her tail had the chance to ruin her morning… okay, evening. But still too damn early considering she'd only made it to bed a few hours before.
The rustling of the less than stealthy idiot behind her told her that avoiding a confrontation was not in the cards. She huffed in annoyance. Before she could turn, a thick, hairy arm snaked around her waist, yanking her around as hot breath swept over her neck. Justice was slammed into the wall, brick bit into her cheek and a heavy body pressed into her back. Her attacker buried his face into her hair. She both felt and heard the deep inhale and clenched her teeth hard to swallow back the gag reflex.
"Mmmh, you smell good," he grunted. She was only glad that her stomach was still empty.
"Yeah, some of us still believe in bathing." It was an unfair thing to say, not everyone had access to the things she did. But damn it, she needed coffee!
The large body at her back shoved her into the brick harder. "See if you’re still laughin’ when I'm done with you, bitch."
Hands wandered her hips looking for pockets and getting rougher when they came up empty. Who the hell kept their money in their pockets?
Justice was better educated than most. Between her street-smart father and her history-obsessed mother, she’d had access to an education and training that few else did. Generally, she didn’t hold that against people, but this guy was an idiot.
He’d likely only survived this long because of his size. Unfortunately for most, size did tend to be a factor for survival. Unfortunately for him, he was about to learn it wasn’t everything.
Justice closed her eyes and took a slow, calming breath. A trickle of blood slowly made its way down her cheek like a fuse ticking down to the end of her patience. Before it even hit her chin she was forced around to face her attacker. Which gave her everything she was waiting for.
She slammed her knee into his groin. As expected, he doubled over. With a firm grip on the back of his shirt, she swung him headfirst into the brick wall behind her. The guy dropped to the ground. Justice scooped up the dirty pocket knife he'd dropped, swiping a few inches to the left of where he was still holding his manhood. The tiny cut hardly warranted his yelp as he rolled into the fetal position. Not so big and bad now.
Justice stood and wiped at the blood on her face with the back of her hand, smearing it more than anything and only adding to the feral glint in her eyes.
"Well, look at that. We’re done and I’m still laughing. This was quite amusing." Justice shook her head at his whimpering and continued on her way to the cup of liquid heaven that awaited her.
***
"Another Niyazine-afflicted sighting was reported yesterday outside the border of Kalopsia city. This is the third sighting of this nature this year and authorities still seem to have no answers as to the identity of the responsible parties. All involved in the investigation agree that the affected are purchasing a black market version of the experimental drug known as Niyazine and suffering the consequences.
As you may remember, the drug was released for limited trials in the U.S. years ago with devastating results and has since been banned worldwide. Authorities have asked anyone with any related information contact their local law enforcement."
The news report rambled on from the small government-issued screen behind the counter of the diner. The one broadcast station in existence was used solely to pus
h propaganda and fake a connection to the elite city. It didn’t work. Not on them at least.
Justice had stopped listening, shaking her head at the term "law enforcement." Maybe at one time, they held some authority that mattered, but that was well before her time. Modern-day police were nothing but oppressors for hire, specializing in blackmail and playing judge, jury, and executioner whenever they saw fit. Something like a finding the party responsible for distributing a dangerous drug probably didn't pay well. Though looking the other way might.
The idea of justice was a fairy tale, had been for as long as anyone could remember. There wasn't a lawmaker, judge or officer that could be trusted in a bad situation. "The authorities" were only out for themselves and if you were unlucky enough to get caught in the middle of anything, you'd be an idiot to expect any kind of justice. You were more likely to find a leprechaun in the courthouse than an honest judge.