“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?” I ask, gasping as my lungs scream. How long have we been sparring?
The sound of a boot on the gravel snaps me back into motion, but I’m a hair too slow, catching a slap to the back of the neck that sends lightning over my nipples and down to my core.
_\*Not helpful,\*_ I remind myself. I’m going to have to do something to take the edge off once I’m back at the apartment. I can’t keep carrying a low-grade flame that’s ready to burn every time I’m in the presence of people.
“No. Now \*_avigga!\*_” \*_Move!\*_ he shouts, only one of the handful of Thur words that have been woven into his vocabulary from work. On anyone else, I would swear he was emulating them. But this is Ry, a man who’s never minced words or pretended to be anyone he wasn’t. If he says he uses them at work, then I believe him. Though, I’m still not entirely sure what he does. I can’t blame him since he doesn’t know what I do either. Not really…
I shake that thought away, reaching back to strip off my gaping shirt. He barely spares me a glance. Down to a sports bra, I ready my stance once more and take a breath that’s not going to help. He’s pissed, and there’s nothing I can do against an angry man.
“What do you do every night at Mid, Devi?”
The question jars me enough for him to charge and put me on the defensive. I glance longingly at the abandoned training mats we dragged out here. Do I have enough sakrin to cover the number of medi-patches I need? A knee to the thigh forces my mind off of it.
“Answer me!”
“You already know what I do, Ry, I don’t know why that’s suddenly crawled up your ass, but I don’t have a reason to lie.” Except I do. Except I am lying, and his expression says he already knows it.
But how?
Ry’s seen many versions of me, not all of them great, and I’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s never seen me selling myself like that—prostrating all my assets, hoping for good tips. The clients grab me, and they touch whatever’s available. They ask for private shows and dances, which, most of the time, I hate providing, but I do it anyway to survive. In my skimpy outfits. In underwear. It’s a version of myself that I don’t want him to witness because I know he’ll never understand. He’s never seen me be someone’s plaything, and he’s damn sure never seen me enjoy it.
It would change his perception of me, and based on how he’s looking at me now, somehow, I know it’s done just that.
Then he’s on me, forcing me to recalibrate as he throws hit after hit. There’s a moment where I think he’ll give me time to correct my stance and allow me some air, but the bastard taps my overextended shoulder just enough to send me tumbling over my own feet, face forward.
A lick of heat flushes through down to my collarbones as I take the stinging impact, then roll, pivot, and spring up to tackle him. He absorbs the force without a sound, letting me take him to the ground. I've trained with him long enough to know when he’s allowing me to overpower him. And I also know, maybe half a second too late, that I’ve exposed my ribs.
I try to control him on the ground, ignoring the throbbing flesh that’s promising I’ll need a rapi-dose and at least a handful of patches.
In the brief flurry of strikes that I deliver to Ry, trying to find purchase on something vital, I see Nox’s eyes, so hypnotic and cold they sear. And I hear Selk’s voice, so low and full of vibration that a bead of sweat trails down my neck. I imagine Emer’s rumbling growl and the dark look that promised all the things I need right now.
Release. Validation. Skin-on-skin contact that doesn’t hurt. Not the judgment I see reflecting in Ry’s eyes.
“Whoever you’re fighting in your head isn’t here,” Ry shouts, blocking his face from another punch that doesn’t land right. He’s growling now, disappointment and judgment written on his face, hints of another expression I’m unfamiliar with.
“How did you find out?” I ask, bringing my elbow down toward his nose. He counters with a strike to my right ribs. The hit stings down to my hips. I buck them up off instinct, pushing past the sharp sensation to follow through with a left jab. And when he blocks it, I scoot my hips forward, trying to stifle his ability to move. Not before he taps those same ribs with another two strikes.
“Why did you lie?”
The burning behind my eyes tells me my ribs will bruise. I push past that, too, and bear my weight on his shoulders, rising to my knees for a better angle. \*_Jab\*_. I’m so fucking angry. Is it so bad to want to keep at least one thing untouched by—my mind hiccups—all the things my childhood has turned me into?
I don’t realize the hiccups are real until the first bit of liquid tips over the edge of my eyelash.
Ry dips to the side, rocking us. The flashing emotion in his eyes tells me I only have moments before this is over. I jab again, but he’s expecting it, using my momentum to slip further down under my legs.
“Why does anyone lie?” I counter, hearing my resignation. There’s no going back to before, is there? I pin his head between my thighs.
It’s usually about this time when I notice that Ry is painfully handsome. And just how close my crotch is to his mouth. Normally, he’d stiffen like he could sense my thoughts, and I’d make him hurt me just to avoid the look on his face. I can’t help the path my mind takes in the most inconvenient times, and there’s no telling if he even feels the same. I’ve always had too much pride to look, too terrified I’d see something other than desire.
Right now, his thin t-shirt stretches, guiding my eyes to the upper curves of his broad chest. I hardly notice that his rough breaths bring his hot skin closer to my ratty leggings. Instead of his bright brown eyes, I see black ones. Then I see the ones dipped in iron. The green ones so vibrant they burn. I’m struggling to remember where I am and what I’m doing.
And need is crashing through me so sharply I don’t know what to do.
Ry’s eyes blaze. Is it because I’m not here with him, fighting for my life with enough enthusiasm? He doesn’t seem to understand that I’m furious about the distraction, too. I’m furious about a lot of things in my life. When he tries to headbutt me, I pinch my knees closer to his throat. He snarls, using the position to his advantage as his hands find the lower cuff of my ass and heave.
I’m tossed over his head as if I weigh nothing. It all happens so fast that I can’t even enjoy the feel of his warm hands so close to where I need them or the tingle it creates in my lower stomach.
I manage to tuck my chin just before I hit the hard gravel and skid. My palms are scraped raw first, and then I immediately regret ditching my shirt as the momentum drags my stomach over the sharp rocks. Seven, eight, nine… I start to count how many patches I’ll need and how expensive each one will be. My cheek takes the worst of it, though, when my head smacks the ground, and I breathe through the sting that slowly starts to burn as I come to a stop. A deep throb echoes from my eye socket. The cough only makes it worse. Liquid creeps to the surface all over my skin, telling me I’m bleeding.
“Shit, Devi—” Ry says behind me, his heavy boots crunching the gravel in my direction. His warmth radiates down to me as he reaches.
“I’m good,” I mumble, pushing off the ground. It takes a second for my body to catch up to my brain and move. Again, I think of Selk, but the pain severs the memory. So much pain.
“You’re not good. I fucked up, lov—l-lost focus for a minute. I’m—”
“Let’s call it,” I insist, brushing the blood and dirt from my hands without the hiss I want to let out. My fingers tremble as I eek out a breath and turn back around. “I’ve gotta head home, anyway.” I hate the wobble in my throat when I say it and how much it hurts when I brush my ribs. There’s a glassy sheen covering my eye imbed. And the other eye is already leaking.
“I’m so sorr—” he starts to say, reaching for my arm before I shrug away. He flinches and so do I. That delicate balance of trust is broken now.
“Don’t touch me. It’s my fault. I’ll see you—” My throat locks up, remembering that somehow he knows everything I’ve been trying to hide. “I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.”