It made it easier that the man had shown zero interest in me, sexual or otherwise, since I’d met him. I wasn’t the type to chase after someone who didn’t want me.
What he’d said earlier made sense. Unfortunately, I wasn’t much of a team player to start with. I much preferred to work on my own. But, if I was to start becoming a team player, I would want to trust my partner explicitly. Feel assured they had my back and would watch out for me.
That definitely wasn’t the case with that jackass over there.
How could I trust him? We’d already tried to kill each other. Multiple times. And he’d almost succeeded. Had it not been for Rebecca calling out and distracting him, I’d most likely be very dead already. How could I ever really trust that when my back was turned in that arena, he wasn’t just going to come up behind me and chop my head off or something?
It was a very real possibility because I would consider doing that exact same thing to him.
The whole thing was completely and utterly fucking insane. Fighting to the death in a gladiator inspired tournament? What kind of Hunger Games May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favour bullshit did I fall into?
Dimitri seemed unnaturally calm about the whole thing. In fact, not once did I detect even a hint of surprise from him in regards to our current predicament. Almost as if he’d suspectedthe outcome. Knew exactly what was in store. What was going to happen to us.
We hadn’t said a word to each other in the past hour. Not since the guard had left. What was there to say? “Sorry I tried to kill you, but let’s put that aside now and try to work together?”
We’d never trust each other to the point where we could ever work together effectively.
Then again, what if we didn’t need to? What if there was some way around that?
I licked the gravy off my fingertips, contemplating how to approach the situation. I was fairly certain I knew how the interaction was going to go, but nevertheless…
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Not interested,” he fired back instantly, not even bothering to look up from his plate.
Yep, sounds about right.
“Do you want to live or not?” I snapped. His eyes finally flicked up to me. “I’m suggesting atemporarytruce. Emphasis on the temporary part.”
“Not—”
“Interested. Right,” I finished with an irritated sigh, shaking my head. “Question. Have you always been this unbelievably pig-headed?”
He growled low in his throat, his narrowed gaze locked firmly on me like he wanted nothing more than to wring my neck. I’d have betted that someone in his position wasn’t used to being spoken to in such a fashion.
Tough fucking shit. I wasn’t going to bow down and kiss his ass because he was some hotshot mafia leader.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” I continued. “I’m genuinely curious if you’ve always been this way, or if it’s a skill you’ve been honing since your balls dropped?”
“Watch how you speak to me,” he warned darkly.
“Or what? News flash, Your Royal Grouchiness, you might be top shit in your world, but guess what? You’re not there. You’re here, locked up like the rest of us lowly peasants. We’re all in the same boat. So, why don’t you get off your high fucking horse and work with me. You might be content with rolling over and dying, butI’m not.I’m prepared to fight to my last, dying breath. And should that time come, I plan to take as many of those fuckers down with me as I can. So, you can either work with me, andtogetherwe might actually stand a chance of getting out of here alive, or I’ll kill you right here, right now, and just go at it solo. What’s it going to be?”
He stared at me, deathly still, not moving a single muscle. I thought I’d had his entire focus before, but this was something entirely different. If fear was an emotion I was capable of experiencing, I had no doubt it would be pumping through my veins with how he was looking at me. Like he’d just realised how big of a threat I really was, and was trying to decide whether or not to just cut his losses and end me.
His gaze moved slowly to my left. An unreadable expression fell over his face. I had no idea what the fuck he was looking at. There was nothing there except for pounds of solid concrete. Maybe he’d finally lost it. Cracked under the pressure, and was seeing things that weren’t there.
His eyes returned to me, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. “What do you mean bytemporarytruce?”
I held in my triumphant smile. It would probably piss him off, and it looked like I was finally winning him over. “While we’re here, fighting in these games, we agree not to try and kill each other.”
“And after?”
“Ifwe manage to win, andifwe manage to somehow get out of here…all bets are off. The next time we see each other, we’re free to do whatever we want.”
He thought it over for a moment. “How do we know the other will stick to the truce and not go back on their word?”
Valid question.