Behind the Walls. NOVEL By Claire Darcy.

64. r o u n d ~ t h r e e : Raw Brutality.

ACE.

"I feel awful," Donovan confessed, draped over the bench in the side room. Rowan was at the sink, washing the blood off of his hands and arms. Donovan, Rowan and I all had to wait and prepare for the next fights. Sebastian Marshall had lost every fight against us. He was out.

"It was like he was put in the finals just to be beaten," Rowan remarked, wiping his hands on a towel before sitting down beside me on the dusty couch in the middle of the room.

"Speak for yourself," I growled, rubbing my neck. Purple shadows had spread across my skin. Bruises. On my neck.

"Oh, poor little Ace," he mocked, "Need me to kiss it better?"

He brushed my hair out of the way and ran his fingers gently over the bruises. I swiped his hand away. I didn't have time for his teasing right now.

"The only thing you're going to be kissing," Donovan said to Rowan, "Is the dirt. When I slam that pretty face of yours into it."

Rowan batted his eyelashes and placed a hand over his heart. "You think I'm pretty?" he asked, feigning modesty. Donovan rolled his eyes.

The next fight was going to be Donovan versus Rowan. Donovan was the next one to fight us both because he had the highest score out of all the fights with Sebastian. I had no idea how those scores were calculated.

"Not pretty enough to avoid a getting punched," Donovan decided. Rowan just stretched, reminding Don that his muscles, and his over-all frame, were both rather impressive. It shut the boy up.

"Am I pretty enough to avoid getting punched?" I asked quietly.

Donovan glanced at me, chewing his nail. He shrugged a little. "I've fought girls before. It always leaves you feeling guilty. More so than if it had been some huge guy," he said.

"That didn't answer my question," I said with a sly smile.

Donovan narrowed his eyes at me. "Well," he said with a wink, "I won't stomp your face into the ground. But that doesn't mean I won't still beat you."

"Have fun with that," I replied.

Rowan didn't say anything. Things were about to get interesting.

...

"They've been going for ages," Josh said, peering through the fence. He'd come to give me company while Rowan and Donovan versed.

"About eight minutes," I answered. "Fights are shorter than they feel in the moment. They probably feel like they've been going for hours."

"I feel like they've been going for hours. I could never last that long."

"Sure you could," I countered, "With a lot of practice. Rowan and Donovan make it a sort of dance, almost."

Josh laughed as the two fighters went back and forth along the length of the rink, attacking, blocking and dodging in an almost rhythmic pattern. They moved so fast it was almost a blur, then froze in place, then burst into action again and again.

"Just don't tell Rowan that," Josh snickered, "Or he'll never fight again."

I smirked. "Maybe that's a good idea." I grabbed a hold of the nearest bar and hoisted myself up just enough to see the fighting better. "Stop dancing and start fighting!" I yelled.

Rowan heard me and glanced over, giving Donovan the chance to get a good hit in. I laughed and fell back, Josh catching me.

"Ace!" he groaned, putting me down, "You just distracted him!"