Page 101 of Paper Thin Love

“Or woman, you fucking prick,” a girl next to me grunts, making me think she wants to fight.

I pivot my eyes toward her. It’s Avery Hailstone. She’s tall and pretty; her thick curly hair makes her ponytail look like it has extensions, but she’s just blessed with great genetics. She could be a model if she were born into a normal family. It’s her eyes that reveal her hate. I can tell she wants to escape just like I do, but instead of running, this girl would be willing to fight her way out.

I envy that. I don’t know if I could ever have that mindset.

Feeling my stare, she looks down at me, her vengeful eyes filling with pity. Everyone knows Dash and I are together.

“I bet on Dash.” Avery tells me.

My chin dips. How do I reply?Thanks for thinking the man I love will kill his opponent.

Avery nods and looks away, knowing I can’t answer because I’m too weak to.

“Dash King,” the cloaked man shouts,“You are called to participate!”

I inhale sharply and hold my breath, unable to breathe again until I see him. Out from the trees, Dash emerges, Cillian behind him, remaining at the base of the tree. My exhale is slow as I take in every inch of him. He’s alive and unharmed, but for how long?

His light blonde hair shines off the spotlights like poured metal, his sharp jaw is set in stone as his attention draws towards the stage.

Look at me! Please.

He steps away from Cillian and into the fighting pit. He’s only wearing combat boots and tight shorts.“Why isn’t he dressed more?” He needs layers to protect him.

“Clothing is a tool for the enemy. It gives them something to grab and offset their balance. See his skin?” Dante asks.

I nod.

“That’s oil. When the enemy tries to grab him, it will be tougher. No weapons are allowed, but they allow this.”

“Does it make it easier?” I ask. My voice is a fading ember in the dark.

Dante nods as he looks ahead.“Yes, any advantage we can take, we will.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Dante finally peels his eyes away from the pit.

“Does referring to our fellow student as the enemy make it easier to kill him?”

Dante’s jaw clenches.“This is a solo game, Mila. It is you and your enemy. Survival of the fittest. We’re not students; we never really have been.” His anger morphs into pity.“We are pawns. Our only goal is to make it across the chess board, so we have the opportunity to change shape, no longer being a pawn but something with a fighting chance at survival.”

I want to hug Dante and apologize to the boy who never got to live a normal childhood, to play and explore the world. He is nothing more than a resilient man attempting to hold his shattered heart together.

Dante steps closer,“A pawn can change to a queen, Mila, remember that.” His lip tugs up before his eyes leave mine and return to the fighting pit.

Dash steps to the center and nods. Then I see his eyes scan the crowd. Dante and Cillian do the same scanning motion.

“Who do you think his opponent is?” I ask Dante.

“I think it will be Clive Chesterfield. Dash’s dad bought their company out from under their feet ten years ago. All they have left to their name is money, which doesn’t hold much value in our world. Secrets give you power, and they hold value longer than pennies do.”

I nod, feeling good. Clive is leaner than Dash, and although he fights, I know Dash can beat him. Maybe that’s all Dash has to do: knock him out. The rules are the last man standing. You can knock your enemy out and then choose to walk away. However, many men choose the second option; they go for the kill. They fight to their last breath, and a simple knockout rarely ever happens.

A second figure stands next to the other faceless man; his lips part as he begins to announce the opponent. It’s in that second that Dash looks up directly into my eyes like I’m his due north.

My lips freeze as all my emotions pour out from the look in my eyes. I want to run to him, scream and shout, grab his hand in mine, and force him to run with me.

Instead, Dante steps closer, his grip on my hand more like cuffs, chaining me to his side.

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