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As if we were old friends, synchronized, we each picked an opponent and fought them with fists and feet. My loafers were dreadful to fight in, squeaking on the slippery stadium floors. She was barefoot still and wearing nothing but bikini bottoms and a sports bra.
I briefly wondered if she’d spar with me in the buff. I’d even settle for sparring with her in the clothes she wore now. That was a new kink unlocked.
Hugo’s blazer tore between his shoulder blades as he grabbed one man by the lapels with one hand and punched him with the other.
“Putain!“ He complained.Shit!“I liked this suit. You will be paying for my tailor!”
“I didn’t ask for your help!” The girl said with disdain.
“I meanthim.Le connard Anglais! The english asshole!”
“Who? Me?” I feigned great offense, bringing a hand to my chest like he’d hurt my feelings. “You didn’t have to join me in my chivalry, you froggy cunt.”
A bullet pierced the air. The screams renewed. We all fell to the ground, looking for the source.
“LeBlanc!” the woman cried, her eyes wide as she watched her coach crumple to the ground. She moved to run to his side.
“We have to get her out of here.” Hugo hissed at me.
I grabbed the girl under her arm before she got too far. She fought me, but I held on.
“You can’t do anything now,” I growled at her. “Where’s the nearest exit?”
From the ground, her coach bellowed, “Go!” giving her instructions to flee.
That was a fine idea. Hugo and I dragged her out of there, though she fought us the whole way.
We let go of her once we were out of the stadium and in the entrance hall. With a scream of agony, she punched both her fists into a cement wall. She took some deep, slow breaths. I recognized the move. She was gathering herself.
“The side entrance leads to the road,” she finally said after swallowing the lump in her throat, fighting back unshed tears. “So we won’t have to go through the parking lot. We might be able to shake them.”
“Which side?” Hugo asked. She pointed.
Hugo nodded and sprinted out the front. “I’ll get the car.”
It was truly unconscionable how a burly box of a man like Hugo could sprint as fast as he did. If he ever stopped bulking and living on protein, he could give Usain Bolt a run for his money.
I followed the girl to the side entrance, down the hallway lined with white bricks. We were separated from the outside by a simple, creaky metal door. Below it was a gym bag, which she grabbed and threw over her shoulder before we went into the cool air of the alleyway.
As predicted, Hugo was already there with our black Mercedes-Benz E-Class. He had backed the car into the alley, so that his headlights faced forward, though the vehicle’s lights were off.
I opened the back seat and ushered the girl in, and climbed in after her.
“Do you guys want to tell me who you are?” She asked quietly as we started driving.
“Why?” I asked, changing the subject and flashing her a smile. “Uncomfortable being in a car with two strange men?”
She opened the gym bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and started putting them on. She shimmied it up her well-formed legs, bringing her ass off the seat to button them closed.
“I’m pretty sure I could take you,” she mentioned casually, “I could refer to you as Thing One and Thing Two, but that seems disrespectful.”
“She’s funny,” Hugo commented without humor. “That makes you worth the rescue.”
“I didn’t need your help.”
“Of course not,” I reassured her, trying to repress a smile as she threw a white shirt over her head. It was a crime to cover up that lovely skin.
“So, did I jump out of the frying pan and into the fire?” She asked, still not looking directly at me. “Where are you taking me?”
