Page 138 of Steel

I take in a deep breath and straighten from my perch against the fence. “Ready to serve my sentence, Prez.”

“Do you choose to face them one-on-one or together?”

“Together, Prez.”

He nods in confirmation. “Four minutes then.”

These two are more methodical in their hits. Gremlin attacks first, his hits landing randomly over me. He’s not the one I’m saving my energy for. It’s the quiet motherfucker who continues to circle me, landing hits in places that are going to inflict the most hurt.

Jagger’s fist aims for my kidney, landing up under my rib cage for maximum result, leaving me choking for air.

I defend against Gremlin’s attack, but as my arm is in the air, Jagger lands another jab to my armpit, deadening my arm and leaving it useless.

Fuck.

These two aren’t letting up, intent on making me retreat to face this all again or lose my position in the club forever.

Not . . .

I land a hit to Gremlin’s jaw, and he stumbles to his knees, so I swing again to hit the other side of his jaw and watch as he falls to his hands.

. . . fucking . . .

Jagger doesn’t allow me to go at Gremlin again. He strikes me on the chin, and my body seizes as jabs of pain spread through my face before I land on my knees next to my brother. Jagger backs away calmly, giving me the space to climb to my feet.

. . . happening.

Once I’m standing, I go on offense and rush Jagger. I don’t think he’s expecting it because I catch the widening of his eyes before my strike lands on his nose. There’s a loud crunch, much like mine sounded when Gremlin broke it before I put him to the ground. Not that it matters to this fucking sociopath in front of me. He just smiles and reaches up to pop it back into place, his tongue poking out to lick up the blood that was pouring down over his lips.

Neither of us get a chance to go at each other again because Wraith steps in and calls the fight.

Jagger and Gremlin both hold their fists out to me.

I curl my fingers, wincing at the pain that shoots through my hand, and bump mine gently against theirs.

The club gives me time for Phantom to check me over. He pops my nose back in place and secures a butterfly bandage over it, but that’s the only thing he does for the wounds I’ve sustained so far.

This time, Thrasher steps into the middle of the ring, his cellphone in hand. “You will now face your final round of jurors. You have your choice of all three at once or one-on-one. Make your choice.”

There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to make it through the round going up against all three at once after that last round with Jagger and Gremlin.

“One-on-one,” I croak.

Thrasher smirks at me, nodding. “One-on-one, you will face your next three jurors for two minutes apiece. If you’re still able to walk out of the ring at the end, your sentence will be served. Are you ready to serve your time?”

I lift my chin, keeping my eyes off the fucking psycho bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Ready to serve my time, SAA.”

Tweek bounces into the ring with us, shooting me a toothy smile and brushing his blue hair from his face. He rolls his head along his shoulders and shakes his arms out.

The twinkling in his eyes freaks me the fuck out. Fucker is enjoying this way too much.

“I’m looking forward to this. Your blood is going to look so pretty when it paints my knuckles,” he taunts.

Around and around, we circle each other as I wait for him to make the first move. Should have fucking known he wouldn’t come straight at me. Fucker likes playing too much.

“Crazy fuck,” I mutter.

Tweek dances on his tiptoes, coming closer and aiming a few fake punches at me before backing away with a laugh.

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