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At least she didn't say it loud enough for everyone to hear.
A broad-shouldered young man steps forward, muscle straining under his sleeveless shirt. "This should be quick," he says, eliciting laughter from the others. I clench my jaw, meeting his smug gaze.
We take positions on the mat as the others form a makeshift ring around us. Lyssa steps back, arms crossed, face unreadable.
"Go easy on her, Mario," one of the recruits calls out. More laughter. Mario's mouth curls into a cocky grin.
"I'll try not to bruise that pretty face of yours, sweetheart," he says.
Rage sparks through me at the casual disrespect. But I rein it in, letting it smolder.
Mario moves with lumbering slowness, aiming a punch at my right cheek that I deftly dodge, dancing back out of reach. He charges again and I use his momentum to send him stumbling past me. But he recovers quickly, fueled by the whoops and jeers of the crowd.
"Not bad, sweetheart," he pants, circling me. "But you won't get lucky again."
He feints left then strikes right, and pain explodes along my jaw. I crash to the mat, head ringing. The men roar their approval. Through the haze I see Mario looming above me, grinning.
"Stay down, sweetheart. No need to embarrass yourself further."
His words pour gasoline on my simmering anger. It erupts into an inferno, hot and hungry. I surge to my feet, the pain forgotten, as Lyssa's instructions from earlier come flooding back to me. Mario's eyes widen in surprise an instant before my fist connects with his solar plexus. He doubles over with a choked grunt and I bring my knee up, catching him in the nose. He reels backwards, and a final side-kick at his knee sees him crash to the mat.
Silence rings out. I stand over Mario, chest heaving, and spit his own words back at him. "Stay down, sweetheart. No need to embarrass yourself further."
The recruits stare at me, mouths agape. And then they all start laughing hysterically.
Even Mario, when I stretch out a hand to help him to his feet, is giving a rueful grin. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbles at the other recruits. "Laugh it up. Wait till Suzy here gets ahold of you."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lyssa regarding me with narrowed eyes and the barest hint of a smile.
"Well, well. Seems like you've got a little fire in you after all, Suzy Sunshine. Though I suppose the sun is just one big ball of angry fire, isn't it?" she adds with a smirk.
Adrenaline still thrums through me, but as I look at Mario holding his head back and trying to stop his nosebleed, the full impact of what I've done hits me.
I unleashed violence on another person. And it was shockingly easy.
Even…evenfun.
Lyssa disperses the onlooking recruits and leads me from the gym. I'm trembling now, overwhelmed. She guides me to a small room just off the training area and pushes me down onto a bench.
"Breathe, Suzy. You won the fight—and a little respect along with it." Her tone is not unkind. She hands me a towel to wipe the sweat from my brow.
I take a few deep breaths, regaining some composure. The whirlwind of emotions still rages within me—anger, shock, and beneath it all, a disquieting sense of satisfaction.
I defended myself. Proved I'm not as weak as they assumed.
Lyssa sits beside me, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Not gonna lie, I didn't expect you to have that in you. Wasn't sure you had the spine for this world."
I meet her brown eyes. "I won't be anyone's victim again."
She nods slowly. "Good. Because this place will chew you up and spit you out otherwise." She stands abruptly. "I'll let you go clean up, get some food. Training's done for today."
As she turns to leave, I find myself saying, "Will you tell Hadria what I did? Do you think—do you think she'll be pleased?"
Lyssa stills, then looks back at me with an inscrutable expression. "Hadria appreciates strength. But don't go looking for her approval, Suzy. That's a losing game. You just focus on surviving."
With that, she leaves me with my thoughts swirling. I move to the small adjoining bathroom and wash the blood—Mario's and my own—from my hands and face.
The woman staring back at me from the mirror looks different, somehow. Harder.
