"I want to love, but my hair smells of war and running and running."
• • •
The cord whipped through the air, the knot on the end weighing down the end. It slams into my back and tears through the soft skin. A scream erupts from my mouth as a fiery pain burns through me.
"Please," I beg, tears streaming down my face. "Please, stop. What did I do?"
Enrique growls, "Everything, you beast. You thought you could ask your brothers for food? News flash: No one will ever help you out. You don't deserve it."
He runs a quick hand over the cord, causing blood to splatter on my face. My blood. It decorates my tear-stained face and drips from the thin, open sounds on my back.
"Say it," He commands. "You don't deserve it."
A different kind of pain settles in the bottom of my stomach. The wild gleam in his dark eyes causes my dear and dread to increase.
"I don't deserve it," I choke out desperately.
"Deserve what?" Enrique asks with a smirk.
I sob, "Help. I don't deserve help."
"That's right, bitch," He snarls. "You are a toxic killer. You deserve nothing. No, you deserve worse than you get. You ought to be grateful, not asking for more, you greedy whore."
I flinch away from his words as if they are as painful as the rope digging into my skin.
With a satisfied and predatory grin, Enrique brings the cord down again. And again. And again. Continuing until he is tired of beating me.
Grunting, Enrique leans in close to me. I flinch but I am already curled up in a ball and pressed into the corner of the wall. I can't get any further away.
His hot breath fans over my face as Enrique promises, "If I ever catch you asking for help or accepting help again, I'll kill you."
• • •
"You don't deserve it," He hisses again, his voice echoing in my mind.
I shake my head, trying to empty it.
Adjusting my stance slightly, I raise my fists and focus on the opponent in front of me. He's blathering on about how I don't deserve the champion title. We'll see about that, now won't we?
The announcer begins to rule up the crowd. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and empty myself of all thoughts and feelings until I am empty. That emptiness is quickly replaced by rage. Hot, screaming rage.
The fight starts and I wait for my opponent, Steel, to make the first move. He tries to execute a roundhouse kick to my ribs.
Keyword being "tried."
A roundhouse kick, when done properly and with confidence, can generate the same amount of force as a baseball bat-around 480 pounds of force. However, when done incorrectly, they are completely ineffective.
Grabbing his leg, I pull him closer with one hand and throw a left cross to his jaw which I quickly follow up with a knee to his gut and a few jabs as he yanks his leg free from my vise-like grip.
As I expected, Steel stumbles back as I abruptly release his leg. I lodge my left foot into his stomach and use it as an anchor of sorts as I snap my right foot forward. My foot collided into the soft flesh on the underside of his jaw. He collapses to the ground, unconscious. I land, bending my knees to absorb the shock.
I shake my head sympathetically, knowing all too well how bad his concussion is going to suck when he wakes up.
Straightening up, I look out at the cheering crowd. It isn't the same cocky feeling that feels me, though. It is a sense of dread. Maybe his words just affecting me more than I thought. I don't know what is setting my alarms off, but something is not right.
No.
Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
I scan the crowds with an intense glare. A familiar calculating look gazed back at me. A swish of red hair and the woman is gone, swallowed up by the crowd.
It was the woman from the forest. From just this afternoon. Why was she following me?
Questions begin to swarm in my mind and I wait the ring to go sign up for as many fights as possible. I don't want to sleep tonight. I want to fight. I need the pain, the adrenaline, the smell of blood.
I've always known to trust my instincts. People will lie and leave you, but your instincts are rarely rare and will stay as long as you use them. And my instincts are telling me that that woman is dangerous. Highly dangerous.
"Hey, are you okay, Raven?" Victoria's voice cuts through my thoughts.
Snapping my gaze to her, I see Victoria with a guy. He isn't tall, but he looks tall compared to Victoria. His strong arm is wrapped loosely around her shoulders as he grins at her in a way that shows me that he is clearly the boyfriend she was talking about.
"I'm fine," I answer, not noticing how cold my voice is as I scan the crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman from earlier.
Victoria blinks her dark eyes and shrugs. "This is my boyfriend, Trey."
"Raven," I reply, nodding at him. I finally give up trying to spot the woman again. "Nice to meet you."
Trey nods back and says, "You fight well. Where do you train?"
"I recently started training here," I answer honestly. "Before then, I trained at home."
"Impressive," Trey grins.
Seeing his grin, a smile spreads across Victoria's face. I shake my head and smirk at the couple.
Turning to me, Victoria asks, "Got anymore fights tonight?"
"Hopefully," I respond. "I just need to speak with Flynn and schedule them in."
Trey gives me a thoughtful look. "Do you really have powers?"
"Yes," I answer somewhat uneasily.
"How many?" He asks eagerly.
Victoria laughs, "Trey, you're gonna scare her off with your questions."
Trey rolls his eyes playfully and I excuse myself to go schedule more fights.
My shadow powers make it so that I don't ever need sleep. No, what I need is to fight. The fighting will help calm me down. It'll help me figure out a solution to the rising situation.
• • •
Darkon's POV
• • •
I drum my fingers on the armrest of my chair as I lean back from my desk. I finished all of my homework already. I know that I won't be able to complete it later.
"Darkon!" Malstrom calls.
Placing my books in my backpack, I quickly head into the living room where my parents are. I ignore the pain that stabs through my sides as I hurry to them. Colette, Emerson, and Hardy are watching television from the couch and Malstrom is standing in the middle of the room.
Colette is Amadeus' and my mother. Hardy is my father and Emerson is Amadeus' father. Malstrom never wanted to have more than two kids in the house so he never had a child with our mother.
I look at Malstrom silently and wait for him to explain why he wanted me.
"Amadeus," He starts, not noticing the way his mere name causes me to flinch. "Has been severely beat up a few days ago."
I nod. I remember him coming home bloody and beaten. He was bandaged up and taken care of, but you can tell that someone took their anger out on him. It was probably from that fighting ring. Amadeus is the champion fighter there. Well, he might not be anymore.
"What happened? Do you know?" He questions.
I merely shrug, not sure what he wants me to say. Amadeus already swore that he would kill me if I said anything about his fighting or the way he hits me.
Malstrom leans in close, but the effect is kind of ruined since he has to look up at me.
"You better tell me," He says sternly. "If your brother is getting hurt, don't you want to put a stop to it?"
Not really...
Sometimes, I wonder if they really don't know about Amadeus beating me. Do they not know? Or do they simply not care?
I shake my head. "I don't know anything," I reply quietly.
My silence comes from hiding. I don't like lying to others, but I have to. It's just best to avoid talking when I can.
Malstrom gives me a satisfied look and backs up. "Just make sure you're supporting your brother, yeah?"
Biting my tongue, I nod silently. Swallowing thickly, I turn and head back to my room. Maybe I'm just being dramatic, but it feels as if they favor one son over the other. They're just oblivious, though. Plus, I'm good at hiding stuff. The only person who knows about Amadeus is Rage. I don't know why I trusted her with that information. I guess we really do just have a connection of sorts.
Ugh, I sound like an idiot even in my own head.
Shaking my head, I quickly clean my room. I don't have much in my room. I learned when I was young that Amadeus would just take whatever he wanted.
Amadeus is my older brother. When he was a senior, I was so excited. I thought he would move out as soon as possible. After all, that's my plan. However, he is now twenty-two years old and still lives at home with his parents. Really, it's not a bad idea since he doesn't have to pay rent or anything like that, but I can't imagine staying in this place any longer than legally necessary. As soon as I am financially able to, I plan on moving out.
The slam of the front door tells me that Amadeus is back and angry. I wince and gingerly rub my already heavily bruised ribs. I know what is coming.
I sit down on the floor and cross my legs as Amadeus storms into his room and drops off his stuff. Like always, he flings my door open, slamming it into the wall where there is a hole in the drywall.
"They can't do this," He mutters under his breath. "I'm the best fighter there. They can't give the title to fucking girl."
My eyes widen in surprise at the news of the loss of his title. I of all people know how destructive and fierce Amadeus is. Whoever beat him must be incredible. A trained soldier, a warrior, a hardened badass. But he said that it was a girl? Girls can definitely be fighters and warriors, but it is just simple anatomy. The male body is built to be stronger. This girl must be incredibly tough and skilled to have beaten Amadeus of all people.
A kick to my back rips me out of my thoughts abruptly. With a grunt, Amadeus begins to take his anger out on me.
Thankfully, it is Friday. I have the weekend to heal before school and Amadeus is rarely around on the weekend. He is always sleeping or training during those two days.
He grabs me by my shirt and lifts me up to throw a punch to my cheekbone. Instantly, it starts swelling up so I can't even open my eye and I know that it will not go away before school starts. Thankfully, I have the weekend to come up with a lie that will explain it.
Amadeus drops me to the ground and rains kicks down on me as he rants under his breath. Whoever that girl is, the one that beat him up, she better be careful. Amadeus will be coming for her soon.
The kick to my head that knocks me out comes as a relief.
• • •
Asher's POV
• • •
I touch the dog tag that dangles from my neck before snapping the rabbit's neck. The rabbit didn't feel anything; it was over too quickly for that. I feel remorse, of course. But the rabbit gave its life to me so that I could live. I haven't eaten in a while.
Silently thanking it, I quickly skin it and take the meat back to where I am camping. I could've told the rabbit to come to my camp to make it so I didn't have to travel farther, but then the mess would've been too close to where I live.
I fidget with my dog tag again as I sit down on the dirt and assemble a tepee of sorts out of twigs.
'Asher, what are we doing today?' A sparrow asks me.
'I'm not sure,' I reply thoughtfully in my head. 'I couldn't find any shelters close enough that would serve food today without asking questions.'
'What happened to that one that you were going to?' A possum whispers quietly.
I shrug sadly. 'That guy kept poking around. He didn't stop like we thought he would.'
'I say we kill him! Tear him limb from limb and make a meal out of him!' One of the wolves growls.
'You know we can't do that,' I correct her with a roll of my eyes. 'It would just get me into all sorts of trouble. People would start looking for me.'
I use my knife and a flint and magnesium block to start the fire. Within seconds, I am feeding it larger and larger sticks until the fire is large enough to cook the rabbit over.
All the herbivore animals leave, complaining about the smell of the cooking meat. The other animals look hungrily at the meat. Smiling slightly, I break off a chunk of meat for each of them. It doesn't leave me with much, but I know that they work a lot harder than me to get a lot less food. None of us are full off of so little meat, but it feels better to not have such an empty stomach.
The school has free and reduced lunches, but my parents aren't poor enough for me to qualify for either so I don't get to eat at school.
My parents.
I haven't seen them in about two years.
I miss my father and mother, my biological parents. My dad was my hero. I looked up to him. When he died, I was devastated. I was never the same. My other fathers, they... they noticed. They decided to take advantage of my grief.
The abuse got so bad that my mother kicked me out of the house. For my own safety. I've been living in the woods with these animals ever since.
The animals are great. My friends. Followers of sorts. But I still crave human interaction. That's where my friends come in—Darkon, William, Gage, Kolton, Nekoda, and Boaz. I don't talk much, I suppose. Too used to talking in my head or something. Rage, though... I definitely want to talk to her.
I bolt upright.
That's it!
I can speak with animals telepathically. Rage can speak with animals telepathically.
Shouldn't we be able to communicate with each other through our minds?
I grin at the thought and quickly clean up my camp. I'll have to find Rage. I don't want to wait to test this out. A sort of excitement passes through me, an eagerness I haven't felt in some time.
Giving a final goodbye to the animals there, I set off at a jog as I head out of the woods and over to William's house. He lives the closest by and might know where Rage is.
Picking up speed, I enter a full out sprint as I spot the street where William lives. I throw open the door and burst into the remodeled hotel.
"William!" I yell, probably louder than I've yelled in my life. "I need your help!"
William races down the stairs. "What?! What's going on?! Are you okay?! Who's injured?!"
"No one," I admit, a blush tinging my cheeks as I realize I may have gone a bit overboard. "I need to find Rage."
A smirk plays on William's lips. "Oh, I see."
The blush burns brighter and I argue, "Not like that!"
"Oh, yeah?" William challenges. "Then why?"
I turn serious as I reply, "I think I might be able to communicate with Rage telepathically."
William furrows his brow. "What on earth makes you think that?"
Sighing, I quickly explain to him.
William grins, matching my excitement.
"Let me call Gage," He decides. "If anyone knows where she would be, it's him."
I snort at that, knowing how true that is.
"Hey, do you know where we can find Rage?" William asks as soon as Gage picks up. "Sure. Bye."
"So?"
William shakes his head. "He has no clue where she would be and asked if we could pick him up lunch from the restaurant where his mom works."
Dismayed, my shoulders slump. I nod. I guess I'll just have to talk to her at school then.
"Don't worry about it," William declares. "She'll be excited to hear about your theory, no matter how long it takes you to find her."
I grin, thinking of the way her lemon eyes shine when she gets excited and the way they darken with fury so often.
My grin dissolves into a frown quickly.
"Why do you think she wears contacts?" I ask. Don't get me wrong, her yellow eyes are beautiful, but it hurts to think that she feels the need to cover up her eyes.
William continues out the door and shoots me a glance. "I'm not sure," He replies finally. "They're pretty, but that can't be the reason why she wears them."
I smirk at that. Rage definitely isn't the type to wear contacts all the time to feel pretty. Truth is, everybody is beautiful, they just don't realize it. I don't think I've ever come across a hideous or ugly person, just people that act that way or feel as if they are ugly.
We walk down to the restaurant taking our time. Pulling the door open, we are greeted by Thorne.
I nod a greeting as William says, "Hi, Thorne. We're picking up a lunch for Gage."
Looking us up and down like some sort of schoolgirl, Thorne nods and yells back, "Fiona! Your boy sent a couple friends to pick up lunch!"
Thorne has never liked any of us for whatever reason. Oh, well. I've come to dislike him as well.
"Alright!" She hollers back. "You make sure and tell my son to pick up his own lunch!"
"Okay, Fiona!" William calls to her, chuckling.
"A sandwich, soda, and fries?" A familiar voice asks, drawing near as she looks at the paper sack and soda in her hand.
"Rage!" I say beaming. "What are you doing here?"
Her head snaps up and a grin dances on her perfect lips. "Working. What are you two doing here?"
"We're picking up a lunch for Gage. He's Fiona's son," William explains.
"Really?" Rage asks skeptically. "But she's so fun and easy going. He's so..."
"Serious?" William offers. "Boring?"
"Intense," Rage finishes. "My shift ends in a few minutes. If you guys want to wait, we can head to the woods together and work on our project."
"Project?" William echoes.
"Yes," I agree. "Our project."
I give him a meaningful look and it sinks in that she wants to train.
"Ohh... That project," William nods. "Sure."
Rage smiles and hands me the food. I must admit, I may have traced a finger down her hand on purpose.
"Thanks," I say quietly with a small smile.
Thorne glares at me. Figures that he likes her.
Who wouldn't, though?
• • •
Not really a Q&A... Just the ship names:
Rage + Asher = Rager
Rage + William = WillRage
Rage + Boaz = Raze
Rage + Darkon = Darkage
Rage + Kolton = Rageton
Rage + Nekoda = Nekage
Rage + Gage = Garage
Yeah, ship names aren't my strongest skill...
Also, the POV switches weren't too annoying or confusing, were they??
• • •
Don't forget to vote, comment, and share!
Jade