Page 48 of Vicious Little Games

He doesn’t at first, waiting for me to make the first move.

When I make a grab for the back of his neck to bring my knee up into his face, he’s ready. His fist slams into my gut, momentarily stunning me long enough to sweep my legs out from underneath me, taking me down to the mat.

I roll into the fall, quickly gaining the upper hand and grabbing for his throat. A second later, Saul flips us so I’m underneath him. I jab my fist into his throat, but he’s already moving again. Taking my right arm with him as he goes, he twists it awkwardly, so I have to roll with it. Once I’m on my stomach, his elbow digs into my kidneys while still leveraging my arm.

I cry uncle when my shoulder pops, losing to the man almost as fast as I came the first time with Cass who is laughing at me yet again.

Letting my arm go, the old man stands up and adds insult to injury. “Unimpressive. I could’ve killed you when you hesitated and tried to grab me instead of hitting me.”

“My bad,” I say as I roll to my back and sit up, clutching my throbbing shoulder. “I’ve only ever…been in street fights where guys start out fighting dirty, like hitting you in the back of the head when you’re not looking.”

“When have you been in street fights?” my mother asks.

“There were plenty growing up. Most stopped by my sophomore year of high school when I finally towered over everyone,” I admit to her.

“Well, if Cass lasts longer than you, which should be easy, she’ll win this round,” Dante says, sounding disappointed in my performance.

I fully expect the crazy redhead to show me up as well. After all, I’ve been on the receiving end of her brutality when she tried to drown me in the pool.

Her and Saul face off right away since he’s not even out of breath from our short brawl.

They circle each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. When Saul does a fancy spinning kick that would’ve made me look like a fool, his foot heads right for Cass’s belly. She grabs at his ankle while stumbling backward and falling on her ass, bringing him down with her.

“Fuck,” she mutters. Releasing the man, she holds up her palms to put a stop to the match. “I twisted my ankle.”

“Is this some feign to lure the old man in and then punch him in the nuts?” I ask, not sure I’m buying her sudden injury after she went ape shit on me without breaking a fingernail.

When she tries to stand up though, she winces and sits back down. I feel like a huge dick when she says, “I think I sprained it.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What happened, Cassandra?” Her trainer leans down for a closer look, and she doesn’t attack him. Dante and my mom move closer before I join them.

“Let me see.” The old man's hands on her foot and ankle have me seeing red. I don't like anyone touching her body. But he only prods the area with his fingers and says, “I don't feel any swelling.”

“It fucking hurts to put my weight on it,” Cass mutters.

“Maybe we should get it x-rayed just to be safe,” my mom suggests.

“I’ll call Dr. Gates and arrange it,” Dante replies.

“It’s not a big deal!” Cass says. “Let me just ice it and see how it feels later.”

She’s lying. I would almost bet my nuts she’s not actually hurt.

But why fake an injury?

To let me win after my pathetic performance?

No. Cass is a lot of things, but she’s not that magnanimous.

“Let’s call this one a draw,” Dante says. “What do you say, Saul?”

“I say they should both hope they never get attacked while walking alone in a dark alley.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Cass and I both mutter at the same time while simultaneously flipping the man off.

The two of us must have been spending way too much time together lately, and unfortunately, not nearly enough.

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