Damon
I hear the crowd so wild for something, or someone, but I'm focused on Rowan. My eyes don't leave his stupid smirk. I can't wait to wipe that smile off his face. We meet in the middle for a handshake. He puts his hand out and I shake full of hesitation. Then suddenly he swings his fat and it connects with my nose, knocking me down. It blurs my vision. The match bell rings as I get to my feet, I swing with my fist and nail him- her in the jaw.
That's when I see a girl on the floor and she spits blood onto the mat. Oh my god. I just hit her. She stands and I see her face. I nearly have a heart attack. "Astrid?" I whisper. What's going on? Her fists are in the air ready to take me down. Her beautiful green eyes lock on mine. That's why she was in the pharmacy. She is Rowan's tribute. That's where she was for the last ten years.
I can't hit her. I just can't. It goes against everything this is about. So I just take her hits. She is strong and powerful. I cover my face with my arms. I try to dodge some of her blows, but she is so quick. If I had to guess she has been doing this for a long time.
She knocks me onto my knees and gets behind me and kicks me onto my stomach. I take the pain best I can. I can't tap out, I can't lose. But I can't hit her. Before I know it, round one is done, Reese, and Josh are dragging me to the corner.
"We had a deal!" I shout to Rowan. He is back into his suit, but wearing the same grin.
The building goes silent. "Change of plans." He laughs. "Ash, here will win the fight for me." He explains.
"I'm not fighting her." I say coldly.
"Oh, so I win by forfeit?" He grins.
I look at "Ash". She is in the center of the ring, waiting for me, with her fists up, breathing heavy. She looks so beautiful, her skin shines under the light. Her gorgeous hair tied back into a pony like when I first met her. It makes my knees weak. I should have pushed harder for her to tell me what was wrong when I saw her in the pharmacy. I could have prevented this entire thing. And since I didn't, she stands here once again. If she wins, she could fight again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. But I could neer lay a hand on her. I need to win. It's to help her. She'll understand. That's my motivation to win: to save her. I walk to the center of the ring.
"I-I'm sorry.