Page 100 of The Lies We Steal

But the way he moved didn’t allow for anything to even skim his body. Agile and quick as he ducked underneath monster punches, countering with lower body strikes that had to have broken ribs.

They rotated around one another, like animals ready to strike, always keeping their eyes on each other, never allowing them to circle behind them. Alistair’s face came into view just before he launched a right hook that made the entire crowd around him cringe.

I didn’t even watch as the other guy fell. I could barely see anything as he took the opportunity to slam fist after fist into his opponent’s face, burying his skull into the dirt beneath both of them.

Blood speckled his naked chest. The people watching, couldn’t look away but their faces all stared with horror in their eyes. If he continued this pace he would kill this man.

Yet, all I could focus on was the curves of this face, the bend in his brow,and the curl of his upper lip.

I’d never seen anyone so wrathful, but he made it look, beautiful.

This sort of molten anger rolled through his body, leaking from all his pores so it was all you could see. A cruel volcano of human rage that incinerated anyone he touched, yet you still stood there rivaling how nature could be so incredible, even when it was wreaking havoc.

A god of wrath.

This was the reason I’d shown up.

So that Alistair could remind me of the bits of me I’d left back in Texas, pieces I thought had to die there in order to make it in a place like Ponderosa Springs.

The parts of myself that loved the way my stomach tightened and my core ached while I watched him hurt someone. Someone who thrived in the trouble most wouldn’t even attempt.

I didn’t need to be a thief anymore, but that didn’t mean I had to leave the lifestyle behind. It didn’t mean I had to settle for a boring life without adventure.

Hands tear him away from the man on the ground, pulling him up, it took seven people just to get him to stop. Even then it still looked like he allowed them to stop him, if he wanted he could’ve kept going until that entire crowd was yanking at his skin.

Rook steals the attention from mostly everyone though, his winning lap consisting of him lifting the front tire of his bike up off the ground riding a wheelie up and down the track. Lyra hides her face as he places both his feet at the back of his seat, standing straight up and down on the motorcycle continuing to ride it around.

When I look back for Alistair, he’s nowhere to be found.

The night becomes frigid as we sit out here for another thirty minutes, watching the races, the fights. Most everyone is wasted of their asses at this point. Just as Lyra and I stand up to leave, Thatcher and Silas do the same.

“Following us?” I arch an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Coincidence.” Thatcher replies.

The four of us make our way out of the stadium, them heading a separate direction as us. Stopping to use the bathroom before we start the walk to Lyra’s car. The walk is short, filled with us talking to keep our bodies warm.

I see her car a few feet away in one of the grass parking spots and a few spots over I see Alistair leaning against the hood of his vehicle, talking to his friends. I notice the extreme redness on his knuckles, a few of them bleeding. He’s still shirtless from the fight, making it hard not to stare.

Knowing I should ignore him and just get in the car with Lyra, I know I should just leave, but I can’t. Something inside of me just will not let me leave until I say something to him.

“I’ll be right back.” I say to Lyra, as I walk around her car and head in his direction.

Rook is the first to notice me, the smirk on his face making me want to slap him. A blush tints my cheeks as I begin to think, has he told them what we did? Oh my God, do they all know what we did?

I suddenly feel exposed even more in this night air and the urge to tuck tail and cut my losses is strong, but I can’t do that now that one of them has noticed me.

They all begin to shift, turning to face me, it’s the most awkward fifteen seconds of my life as we all stand there staring at one another. My eyes refusing to even look in Alistair’s direction because I know he’s probably smirking.

“Well, that’s our cue boys.” Rook slaps them on the back, looking at Alistair, “Happy birthday, dude.”

Birthday?

They begin to walk away as I tuck my arm behind my back, holding onto my shirt nervously,

“Today’s your birthday?” It seems to be the best way to segue into conversation with him. I can’t exactly start out by saying, hey watching you bash someone’s face it got me hot and bothered because I think I’m attracted to dangerous things.

He nods, clicking a button on his phone to display the time, “As of three minutes ago, anyway.”

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