Whispers Of Spilt Blood

Chapter 18

Reagan's POV

As I'm pushed towards the fighting rink, I feel as though I've been condemned. Much like a criminal marching to the noose, knowing what's going to happen but unwilling to accept it. Eyeing some of the guys I pass, my bravery slowly withers away into nothing. The men leer at me and I get a glimpse at poor teeth and greasy hair. Despite their different features, all the men look as though they're willing to kill to get what they want.

In this case it's money...and me.

Well shit.

No way in hell can I afford to lose this.

Before I can object, I'm grabbed roughly around the waist and practically thrown into the rink. I immediately rush to the center and hope no one has the indecency to attack me from behind.

Indecency?

I'm in a room full of criminals!

What the hell am I expecting?

A tea party!

The platform that the rink is created on is high enough that I am able to see over the horde of men and my gaze flits over everyone, praying for a friendly face.

My attention is suddenly torn from my desperate search, as a cheer goes through the crowd. A large man pulls himself up on the opposite side of the platform, getting to his feet with his arms raised, riling up the crowd.

As if already tasting victory.

I gulp. Calling this guy a linebacker would be an understatement. Receiving a smirk in response to my scrutiny, I bare my teeth at him showing I'm not impressed.

The man who originally sentenced me to this fate appears at the edge of the platform and takes a seat on a folding chair. He crosses his legs and settles back, looking smug as though he's about to enjoy what's going to happen.

A sadistic leader. Just what I need, I think sarcastically.

Mr.Sadist is the one calling the shots here and I can't trust him to make good on his promise to let me go. Looks like back to Plan A. Run like hell and hope I don't get shot in the process.

But I can't die yet! I haven't finished watching the next season of my favorite TV show! Okay. Humor isn't exactly the best response to this situation, snap out of it Reagan!

My eyes wander around the large room in search of Ace. The only friendly, okay that was pushing it, non hostile face in the room. When I can't find him I come to the very depressing conclusion that he's probably left me to rest in pieces in the grave I've dug for myself.

Well, jokes on him, I'm going to haunt his ass for the rest of his days.

The giant who has joined me on the platform cracks his knuckles and I wince slightly at the sound. Taking in my reaction, the guy proceeds to crack his neck while grinning at me, the grin morphing his scarred, ugly face into something terrifying. Someone shouts from the crowd, their voice aimed at the giant. "Get on with it already! What're ya scared of hurting a little girl now!"

My head snaps towards the direction of the shout and before abruptly turning back towards my opponent. He's already barreling towards me, spurred on by the shout.

My speed saves me as I throw myself to one side, out of the way. The man flies past and taking advantage of his position, I plant a foot on the small of his back and kick. He goes sailing over the ropes of the platform, crashing onto the ground in an ungraceful heap.

There's a shocked silence as he scrambles slowly to his feet. Furious, he begins to stalk back towards me but is stopped by a voice.

"You've had your turn. Next." Mr.Sadist declares and he looks amused. I don't doubt that he's chalked up my "win" of this round to beginner's luck.