Chapter 67 Sixty Seven
OWEN WINTERS
The atmosphere in the room went intense, but quiet. I felt my heartbeat as it pounded, blocking my ears, it made me wince. I took my stance after I looked at the gallery where the media and potential allies stood watching with interest and curiosity. My blood pumped wildly creating a kind of excitement in me. I waited for him to charge towards me, but he seemed to have caught up with my style of fighting so I decided a little surprise wouldn't hurt. I charged at him, speeding towards his direction, and as I reached him, he threw a punch, but I went under his arm and elbowed him at the nape of his neck. He fell backwards to the ground landing on his face. The crowd booed. I cursed internally wishing I struck his spine and ended everything at once, but then again, that'd have been too boring and easy.
Leaving no space for Ash to regain his stamina, I struck him back on the ground with my feet, but he was quick enough to move before my feet landed on his throat. With the sharpness of my shoes, his neck would've been crushed.
“You seem to like my neck so much,” he muttered, standing to his feet. “Of course I do, I like it so much that I want to have it as a collection in my closet with all the other heads of my enemies. Trust me when I say your head will make a nice decor,” I answered and waited for him to rush at me, he did which made me smirk. I swung my arm, throwing him towards the wall. Ash fell to the ground, his back pounded on the wall, then blood trickled from the side of his head.
Everyone thought it finally ended, but I knew otherwise. A smile creeped to his lips — they were devious. That was when I noticed the glint in his eyes, it showed with a murderous intent. If Ash Winters were an animal, he'd be a feral fox — wild, cunning and fucking mischievous.
“When I become heir to the house, you'd be my bodyguard because woof! You're one skilled fighter.” He stood to his feet and casually walked towards me like he felt no pain surging through his body, like all the while his body was thrown against the ground and wall, it excited him.
“No, thank you. Death is the best option if that's the case,” I replied, watching him closely. My gaze watched steadily at his every move — the way he staggered, the dagger in his palms, and how he spoke so fluently one might have thought he was brought up here.
“Then you will!” He raved charging at me, pointing the dagger horizontally, that the blade tip of the knife, pointed towards his very own neck.
Impressive but lame.
“Die!” He screamed, slicing the air.
“So that's your plan? I hope you won't spill out your intestines” I chuckled and as he tried slicing through me, I ducked and fisted into his stomach. He fell, but that did not make him not make a dent with his dagger on my arm.
“Drop the knife, and fight like the Winters do,” I said, moving in his direction to give him the final blow. “You're weak,” I spat in disdain, raising my fist to hit him, but then he spoke with a spooky smile on his face. “And you're stupid.”
Ash backflipped, kicking me. I staggered backwards, but held my balance to keep me from falling.
“I was just warming up.” He laughed hysterically, his eyes lit in excitement and he lunged at me. My focus had started to shake and I barely held myself. Before my eyes could register his next move, he punched me in the chin, and gave me an uppercut which sent me flying from the ground to the wall.
The crowd cheered, while some gasped. A camera light flashed in my eyes making my vision all the more worse.
“Owen!” Amy screamed, but I didn't glance at her direction. One look at her and I sank to weakness so avoiding her gaze felt like the right thing at the moment. I stood to my feet not minding the way my heart palpitated or the dirt on my face, not even the blood that ran from my nose to the line between my lips. But it was hard not to taste it — metallic mixed with my sweat. I gritted and rushed him, but unlike before, Ash got faster, he dodged every blow, and went past every kick and jab.
I looked in a pitiable state when he stopped kicking, but I didn't want pity. Not from the media. Not from Amy and especially not from myself. I gasped for air, my heart pumped loudly, faster than usual and I mentally noted that I needed to visit a doctor after this entire thing.
“Already tired, Winters?” I gritted, but didn't rush him. Ash was playing the Devon way — the games the Devon played to get their victims to act on impulse and without thinking. The art of making one enrage. Rage was a weakness.
“You're becoming more of a lover boy than a real fighter,” he said and glanced over at where Amy stood clutching her chest.
I'm not falling for this shit.
I swore under my breath trying hard to hold in my rage.
Suddenly, he hurled himself at me and before I had the chance to move away, he dug his dagger into my arm — almost close to my chest. I winced, biting down on my lips until I tasted blood.
“You're a failure Owen Winters,” he cackled and I nodded. “And you're a goddamned coward,” I spat out, swiftly but cautiously pulling the knife from my arm, I shoved it into his lap. Ash screamed and fell to the floor.
Stupid fucker.
I stood to my feet holding my arm to stop the bleeding. If we continued like this one person, if not both of us were going to die, and if I recklessly pulled out that dagger from my arm, it would've paralyzed my arm or even worse, my entire body. I walked towards Amy leaving Ash to his pain and screams. My feet hurt badly, but there was no choice. Instead of a smiling face from Amy, her eyes wide with horror.
“Amy let's go…”
“Watch out!” She screamed. I felt a sharp pain at my back and when I turned, there stood the nuisance, Ash Winters. He had a sick smile plastered on his face. On impulse, I decked him in the stomach and he landed on the wall.
I thought villains died faster?
I didn't dare pull out the dagger that was stuck at my back because if I did… it was too gore to explain.
Anger surged through me, clouding my thoughts and judgments and all I wanted to do was kill that bastard for he had committed a lot of crimes; he burned down my life's work, the museum, divided the Winter house, chased after my woman, and for god's sake, threatened to end her life!
I barrelled him, my focus less steady. Although my body ached, and my mind unclear, I still had a shot at this man. I ran towards him in quick strides, punching his nose, sure that I broke it. The force of my punch weakened me, but I needed to win. But everyone knew how these kinds of ambitions went — into the flames, burning like a piece of paper.
It wasn't long before Ash started to take the upper han. This time, he remained focuses on removing the dagger behind me, and I more intent on fighting for my life. He eventually removed it, but only a little. I screamed hitting him from behind. I plopped to the ground on one knee. Crimson red became my skin colour, and my eyes lost their original shine. I felt my life draining from me. All hope was finally lost. I wanted to see my child grow and I so badly wanted to be a father — I wanted to watch our baby grow and become a fighter like me and a survivor like Amy.
I'm sorry baby.
Ash marched towards me probably to end it all. His smile shone brighter than ever. “Seems like I have to dance with the lady, Amelia,” he whispered and held the dagger at my back.
What a bloody way to die.
I thought and shut my eyes waiting for the worse… waiting for darkness to finally take me, but nothing came.
Is death truly nothing?
Just then, I heard a noise as if someone used a gun on another's neck.
Was a riot going on?
I eventually knew something like that would happen if either of us died, but not too soon.
Then, a voice spoke, it sounded feminine, but deadly. It sounded like… like my pumpkin.
“You don't have the right to kill him. I'm the one who's meant to do that, you bastard!”