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“Lucca is going to kill me,” I heard Viktor say in the background, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught him pulling out his phone.
It was now or never. As I followed Arlo to the one door I hadn’t been inside, I shut it behind me, leaving Wex and Vino behind.
The temperature dropped drastically inside the basement. Fluorescent lights shone over the black concrete room filled with equipment, from weights to a variety of weapons. Two rooms lay in the far corner, and the only exit was the door we’d come down from.
As Arlo stood on a large, cushioned workout mat, rolling his head, I mentally prepared for the pain I would soon endure.
I was no fool. Arlo outweighed me to the point of ridicule. His height was incomparable, and his killer hands matched the bloodthirst in his eyes. My most effective form of attack was speed, the push dagger I had strapped onto my back, and the knife under the stretchy material of my pants by my ankle.
My odds weren’t great with two knives, but I was ready to show him how thisliabilitycould slither and fight.
I wouldn’t back down.
I had to be smart and take the defense, watch his dominant side, and study his movements. The tells of each action he took.
Lucca would be furious.
“Are you going to stand there and look at me, or are you going to follow through, big guy?”
“Would you like asafe word?” His sarcastic and gentle tone antagonized.
I knew better than to attack first.
With a shrug, my feet crossed, taking a step to my right. Arlo followed my movement, and we danced, slowly creating a ring around us. Eyes scrutinizing, waiting.
“Doyouneed one?” I smirked.
My eyes fell as his left foot slid forward, swiftly his right followed, and his steps rapidly closed the gap between us. Immediately, I ducked and twirled out of reach to face his back. Instead, I found him facing me.
Fuck, even with his size, Arlowasquick. Too quick.
Arlo charged, and I sank, dodging his hands. He didn’t like that. As Arlo snarled, I steadied my hands to stop his powerful fist from striking me. My side cowered as my arm and elbow received the first block from his fist.
Ah!I clenched my mouth shut.
The dread of his blow has vanished now that I’d tasted the pain of his force. It was aching and left a deep burning, but I welcomed it.
Pain and I were close friends, especially from the hands of a man. It wasn’t the first time I was overpowered, but it was the first time I could fight back. The first time I wasn’t afraid.
I took another blow with a grunt, knowing I couldn’t block many more, but this time, I punched back.
Arlo swatted it effortlessly, but he hadn’t expected my leg to shoot out to his knee. His leg folded, and I’d found his weakness. Low ground.
His eyes darkened, and we danced with pain as every blow we took, the other blocked, and my kicks no longer connected with his frame. My breathing was shallow, my body ached, and without using my right fist to punch, I’d taken the disadvantage.
Arlo was a skillful fighter, one that didn’t blink after a strike. The kind whose body caused pain instead of taking it. However, his endurance didn’t compare to mine, and his footwork became slow, drawing his movements to my advantage.
I just had to stay low.
I ducked another hook, legs twirling with momentum, swiping his foot off the mat.
Thud.
His large body hit the floor, echoing loudly, and when I glanced down, my eyes widened. Arlo had gripped my ankle. Hand clutching and arm pulling, I fell backward.
Get up!
I couldn’t. I was trapped between his forceful clutch, but I had a split second before his body could overpower mine from a lock hold.
