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I look behind me, and someone has dragged a plump white sofa up onto the catwalk. I’m just surprised to see it. The catwalk is ten feet wide in that location, and steel will support the weight, but it’s the rich kids’ couch. I sit down, holding my arms and crossing my legs. Grinder might have something worth listening to, and maybe I can tell Bryce to go suck on his money. I’m definitely giving off a don’t touch me vibe as Grinder sits down. Grinder sits guy-style with his legs open wide as if he’s airing out his junk. I try not to roll my eyes.
“Astrid, you’re one of the best fighters in the Pit, but there aren’t a lot of skilled women fighting here. And the men don’t want to fight a girl.”
“So, what is your solution?” I ask.
“You and Nova fight.”
I sigh deeply because the thought of hitting my best girl hurts me. “Nova is my first true friend. She didn’t have to be, plus she taught me how to fight.” I shake my head, “And you want me to use her moves against her? Your plan sucks like your ass.”
“Her charm knows no limits.” Bryce is standing in front of us, and he probably heard everything. Sneaky bastard. Justin and Pierce glance over but remain by the rail with the two girls they picked up. The girls aren’t supposed to be up here in an employee-only zone. Showing off, they wave like C-list celebrities to the people below.
Bryce motions for Grinder to move over, and Grinder makes room for him on the couch. He sits down between us, crossing his ankle on his knee. Weymouth guys would never sit like that, but Bryce doesn’t care because our humble ways are simply off his myopic radar. Everything poor people do is off his radar, and he’s just here to use us. A handout ain’t worth a damn, and I’m sick of his shit. I move to stand, but Bryce catches my wrist.
“Let go of me,” I state patiently, “Unless you want me to embarrass you in front of your little friends. We’re not at Stonehaven.”
He leans against me, squishing my torso against the arm of the couch. His thigh presses hard against mine, and I’m very much aware of his hard muscles underneath his clothes.
His lips brush my ear. “Astrid, what did I say about embarrassing me in public?” He pinches my bare thigh, digging his nails in.
I twist away from him. “I’m about to give it to you,” I hiss.
“That’s not what I want.” His hand brushes my thigh again and grabs only the skin. His short nails bite as they twist my skin. I can endure pain, but this is wicked. The razor-sharp pain makes me turn away, but as I pull back, it stings even more.
“Not to embarrass you,” I hiss.
He pats my thigh as if I’m his pet. “Good girl. See, you can behave if I invest the time to tame you.”
My eyes have to be rounder than the headlights on a Mercedes SUV. Bryce casually wraps his arm around the back of the sofa, resting it behind my shoulders. From where we sit, we have an excellent view of the fight that’s about to begin. I sit up straight when Mask appears through the ropes. His black knits drape his fit body, emphasizing those sleek muscles as he performs a few kicks in the air. He turns around and pauses, looking up at the catwalk, but turns around quickly when Crow enters the ring. Bryce leans forward, and his full attention is on the match as Mask hurls a fist in Crow’s nose.
“He’s a very gifted fighter, Astrid,” Bryce whisper, “I wonder what he is hiding.”
