“Defended?” She laughed with all the acid churning in her stomach. “All you’ve ever done with those fists is instigate and harm. Actually, I imagine even that isn’t true. You hide behind weapons bought by someone else. You have always tried to make me your little pawn because it is allyouare, allyou’llever be.”
He sneered, taking a threatening step toward her. But that was the goal. The closer he was, the more likely she was able to stop him from grabbing a weapon from inside his coat.
“Iama weapon,” he told her viciously. And clearly believed it. “No pawn.”
But Ari refused to. “You are a hiding coward.”
He lunged forward, but she easily dodged the blow. She knew she could outfight him, though she did worry he’d get to whatever weapon he was carrying under his jacket. She might not be able to fight that.
But she wouldn’t run. Everything she’d fought for these past ten years would not let her run. So she took two quick steps forward, feinted left, then landed an uppercut square to the jaw.
It sent him sprawling. Though her fist ached at doing so without a glove, especially after already taking the abuse of a fight, satisfaction was like a drug.
She moved toward him, but he’d gotten quickly to his feet. This time when she feinted, he must have seen it.
The blow was a shock. He’d gotten some decent power behind it, and she saw stars as she stumbled back.
“You were promised long ago, and I must keep my promises if I wish to keep my life.” He was reaching inside of his jacket, and she couldn’t let him grab whatever he had.
She charged. She did not let fear or hate control her. Luckily, the control of the fight was still in her. So she landed her blows that he could not sufficiently block, and she sent him sprawling again. This time, he stayed down.
He was laid out on the floor, blood dribbling from his mouth.
There was a sudden commotion all around her, but she couldn’t quite pay attention to it. All her attention was going into staying standing.
He’d waited until after the fight so she’d be weak, hurting, exhausted. And he’d still lost.
She spit the blood out of her mouth next to him, breathing heavily. “You will rot in jail, and I will celebrate every day of your imprisonment.”
Then she was being jostled out of the way by…well, by police. How had so many known to come, she wondered. Then she turned slightly to see Bacchus.
But not just him. Zervou stood next to him.
Ari blinked. Was she hallucinating?
Once Erjon had been dragged out of the room, she sank onto the bench, legs suddenly watery. Eyes filled with tears. But she could not let them fall.
Not in front of Zervou. Who stood before her now. Silent and foreboding.Beautiful.
Oh, she really was pathetic.
Bacchus talked in low tones with a police officer by the door, but Ari couldn’t manage to focus enough to hear what they were saying. Not with Zervou standing there.
“When did you return?” she asked, trying to sound casual but not able to meet his gaze. “I thought you weren’t going to be here.” She jutted her chin to where Erjon had been dragged. “He didn’t think you were here.”
“I watched your fight,” he said softly. “Then came back just in time to see you land the final blow on him.”
Because it infuriated her, she looked up at him now. “And you did not step in to land it yourself? How novel.”
His sigh was soft, but he did not say anything to that. He carefully crouched before her so they were eye to eye. He lifted a washcloth to her mouth, then gently wiped away what she imagined was blood.
“You were doing fine on your own. You usually do, whether you need to or not.”
So he had learned nothing, and was here to what? Fight? “Yes, that is what survivors do, Zervou. You claim to know what that is like, but I am not altogether sure. Perhaps you have become so insulated by your power and your money you have made everyone else the problem, when you are the only oneIsee.”
Which was, of course, a lie. Her father was a bigger problem than anything Zervou had done to her. What was a little broken heart, after all? At least he’d broken it when she had a full stomach.
“Are you hurting me because you hate me, Ari?” he asked softly. “Or because you are hurting?”
