Page 118 of Stockman's Stormcloud

But then Marla gripped Sophie’s ponytail.

‘Ow. Let go.’ Sophie struggled to free her hair, with her face being pulled tight, she was thrown like a sling shot, tossedto the ground, face first, into the dust.

‘Get up, Sophie, before she kicks you.’ It was Dex.‘Get angry.’

A boot met her stomach, and she rolled and kept rolling across the gritty dirt, dust and stones, to get away from Marla, until she slammed into the edge of the crowded circle and used some stranger to help herself up.

It was the man Dex called Leo. The enemy.

‘You should have stayed home. This is not your world, little lady, you’re way out of your depth here.’ Leo’s dark eyes made him look deadly. It should have scared her.

But it only made her see red.

It was the same way her ex used to speak to her, when he’d go out and gamble away her cash in the slot machines. It’s what he did to hide his lies, to hide his addiction. It was the same lies her other ex used when he went to sleep with her best friend.

And here she was, once again thrown into that firing pan filled with chaos.Sure, she’d done this for Dex, but she thought she’d be able to run around the ring and stall or something. So far that part of her plan hadn’t worked. It was fight or fold, because she couldn’t flee if she tried.

But she’d fled before, ending out in the middle of nowhere to reinvent herself. Maybe this was that chance. Because she wasn’t all sweet and sugar. She was a fighter. Dammit.

Sophie wiped the sweaty hair and dirt free from her face, and glared at Marla, allowing that anger to take over. Dex was right, she needed to get angry. She needed to get angry at the people who kept pushing her over. To get angry at her ex-boyfriends who saw her as nothing but a night nurse who was always kept in the dark. All those cranky city patients, the angry drunks, and the addicts who treated her like scum in the city’s ER. At her ex-boss, the hospital administrator, who thought she wasn’t good enough for her job. At her bank for not letting her save her mortgage, instead taking her house. At the debt collector who took her car and all herfurniture. At the bastard who stood on the other side of this dusty circle who’d stolen from Dex and his family. Most of all, she had to prove to herself she was no longer that pushover.

Right now, under the hot spotlights, in a dusty paddock, surrounded by a roaring crowd of strangers, Sophie had nothing to hide. She was pissed. She’d lost everything before, she would not lose this for her and for Dex, because she wanted that engagement ring. She wanted to be Dex’s wife, for him to be her husband. She wanted to be a part of his family and be a mother to those children. And just like Dex, she was fighting for her family and her future.

Lurching forward, she swung with everything she had. Angry now, her fists were tight and lethal, and she swung like a woman possessed, to connect with Marla’s ear—just like Dex had suggested. Marla’s neck snapped back, her eyes widening in surprise that Sophie had swung, her hand covering her ear, but it was the pain she wore on her face.

Dex was right. She’d found her enemies weakness.

With a howling war cry, Sophie punched again, her fist connecting with Marla’s jaw, to deflect and hit her other ear.

But Marla returned the punch and Sophie’s head jerked to the side.

Sophie wiped the blood that filled her mouth, not feeling anything except the deadly fury that filled her. It was as if some ancient, inner primal savageness was unleashed from her soul.

Again, Sophie hit out. This time she aimed for Marla’s ribs, that same spot where Dex had been hurt. With gritted teeth, she unleashed a furious storm of punches, again and again. Screaming with each punch, unleashing all her frustrated anger, so sick of always being the nice girl.

Marla bent forwards as if to hide. Sophie clasped her hands together to create one large fist and slammed them down into the middle of Marla’s back. The impact forced Marla to fall to the ground. Sophie kneed Marla’s back and it was her turn to pull on Marla’s greasy hair to make theenemy kiss the dirt, face first.

Many hands pulled her off Marla’s cowering frame, but Sophie still swung like a wildcat.

‘Calm down, Sophie.’ Dex held her arms. ‘You won. It’s over.’

It took her a moment to see past the red, past the anger, to face the man standing before her. ‘I love you.’

‘I know.’

‘How?’

‘Because you went to fight for me. And you won. I’m so proud of you.’ He hugged her. ‘But we might have to talk about your technique in the future.’

‘I don’t want to do this, or ever feel like this again.’ Her hands ached with a pounding heat, with her knuckles red, raw and bleeding.

‘There are other forms of anger management. Or we can just have hot hate sex.’

She gave him a meek grin, even with a throbbing face.

‘Here, put this ice on.’ Dex pinched a chunk from a nearby esky. ‘Come on, we'll clean you up at my car.’ Slinging his fighting bag over his shoulder, he led them past the crowds, where the cool air away from the hot spotlights was a blessing.

‘How much did you win?’

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