Page 21 of Mariposa
“Don’t go easy on me,” he declares with a giddy smirk.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I wink at him as he grips my ponytail’s ends and pulls my hair from behind jokingly. A short tug to rouse my emotions. I push him off me, and he chuckles lightly.
Roberts is one of the good ones in this class. He is always kind and respectful and treats me like any other classmate. He rounds me, throwing everything he’s got, but it’s not enough.
With blood dripping down my lips and my forearms tucked underneath his neck, choking him, his heavy body goes limp in my hold. As soon as he does, I let go and stand.
“Fuck this,” Willis comments from behind the cage.
I’m going to graduate. I will become one of the first female special operators to join the short list of strong, accomplished women, and it’s killing them all.
Someone’s footsteps thud loudly behind me. I peer over my shoulder and see a familiar head of black hair. Preston beelines for me, ready to attack. He’s taking advantage of my back being turned. Every single cadre in the vicinity barks at Preston to stop, but it’s too late. He clocks me in the jaw with his bare hand. His big knuckles dig into my chin until my head flings to the side. Red sprays out of my mouth and onto the mat. Adrenaline disguises the amount of pain I’m in, and the only thing I feel is the need to give him a taste of his own medicine until he’s begging for mercy. I jerk my head to face him and find him already cocking his fist, ready to give me another bitter strike to my face.
He swings and only receives air as his victim. Sliding backward on my feet, I punch him three times in the stomach and then pull his arm back until he bellows in pain. He’s sucking in the air I forced out of him, coughing and twitching in an attempt to escape, but he fails. His already reddened face turns into a pale reflection as my eyes burn the side of his face with a warning vengeance. He casts his regret-filled look over his shoulder with a bulging forehead vein, redness invading the whites in his eyes. I spit out iron crimson, and it lands by his feet.
“Fuck you, Isla!” Preston squeals.
Smirking, I lean in until my mouth is mere inches from his ear.
“No, fuck you, motherfucker,” I screech loudly, hoping Willis and all his hazing friends can hear and read between the lines.
“I am the Lion’s daughter.”
My patience has thinned into madness—a sinister grin reaches my eyes as I enjoy making Preston squirm. “I want you to take one good look at me because it’s the last face you’ll seeuntil you wake up.” I spit condescendingly into his ear as he grits his teeth, but it doesn’t do enough to hide his frustrated whimpers. I knock him out cold with my fist.
“Everyone out!” Beast snarls. His voice booms and bounces off the walls. I grin, satisfied.
Roberts gets up, dazed out of his mind. I go to help him walk, passing Preston’s sleeping body.
“Lean on me,” I murmur, guilt gnawing at me. He nods like he’s embarrassed to give in to my kind gesture. I go to give him my shoulder with my arm around his, but a large, calloused hand grabs my wrist until his fingers dig into my skin. I hiss, and Beast gets into my face. I can smell that same intoxicating cedar cologne scent, with a hint of his cigarettes. He grabs Roberts by the collar and yanks him forward, forcing Roberts to stumble over his feet.
“Go see the medic.” His voice is strangely cool, calm, and collected despite his murderous expression. Whenever he resorts to this tone instead of yelling, frankly, it’s more terrifying. I turn over to Preston’s sleeping body as he gets carried out by four cadres.
Serves him right.
“You heard Beast! Everyone get the fuck out!” Booker shouts.
“Not you.” He pushes me back. I’m so thrown off by his sudden burst of anger that I stumble, unprepared.
“Okay?”
“You could have killed him, Isla.” Another push.
“He told me not to go easy on him.” He keeps stalking forward until my back hits the cage. “And Preston deserved it.”
The vein in his neck is protruding through his tanned skin. He places both hands on either side of my head, caging me in.
I’m not letting him get to me.
I control my emotions and tilt my chin as he towers over me.
“Beast!” Booker warns him—almost protectively. Booker has always looked at me with compassion—Beast…not so much.
Beast slowly turns to him over his shoulder, with narrowed brows. I can’t see his eyes. They’re hidden beneath his aviators, but I’m sure they’re sending daggers his way. Booker clears his throat like he can’t hold his gaze and walks away, leaving us alone while cursing under his breath. He knows what Beast is doing is more than just a teacher-student moment.
It’s hazing. He wants me to quit so bad, but it’s not in my fucking blood to.
Fuck. I’d be lying if I weren’t trembling from how much I fear him. At the same time, that little voice in my head tells me I like it when he’s mean to me because I have the power to get under his cruel skin.
