Page 59 of Faithless
“Hey,” he called when I’d almost made it to the exit.
I stopped and looked back at him. “Yeah?”
“Why’d you get involved, anyway?”
“Because what they did is fucked up. And to be honest, I was in the mood for spilling some blood.”
He let out a derisive snort. “Welcome to my world.”
He was tough, this guy. And not just physically strong. I could only imagine the headfuck of not only being thrown into a fighting pit and beaten up by guards, but being forced to kill a friend. And here he was, standing tall and rolling his shoulders like it was all water down his back.
“Yeah, I guess.” I paused, then turned all the way around to face him. Come to think of it, it had been a while since I’d talked to another guy, just man to man. Shit, if Daren was here, he’d be right at my side, taking those assholes down. My best buddy would probably be piggybacking this guy to the hospital, he was such a saint. Unlike me. “I don’t know how you can stand it,” I blurted out.
“Stand what?”
“All of it. Everything you have to do out there.” I jerked my head toward the sand pit. “Being whored out to female guests. Dealing with those pricks ganging up on you when you can’t even fight back.”
The gladiator shrugged one shoulder with a scoff. “When the alternative is bleeding to death for the mass’ entertainment, what else can you do?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I can’t even imagine what that’s like.”
He cautiously dropped one hand from his ribs and tried to take a deeper breath, wincing a little. “Sometimes that’s just the hand you’re dealt.”
I still wasn’t ready to head back to the bar, to face Andie and whoever else saw those assholes run with their tails between their legs. The consequences would come, and I’d shoulder them like a man. But not quite yet. I especially wasn’t ready to tell Rori that I’d fucked everything up.
“You got a name?” I asked the gladiator.
He shook his head. “We don’t do real names. That shit’s burned and buried.” He straightened a little taller anyway. “Since I defeated the Animal, they’ve been calling me the Hunter.”
“Right on. It’s fitting, with the way you fight. Really strategic. Congratulations, by the way. On surviving that, I guess.”
“Thanks.” He gave a lopsided smile, one that showed he was enjoying this bro-talk as much as I was. “That was my first fight here. I was shitting bricks, you know? IknewI was gonna die, I was so fucking scared.”
“I don’t blame you. Where’d you come from?”
The smile instantly disappeared from his face. “Somewhere really fuckin’ bad. Honestly, I don’t know if this place is any worse. At least I can make a name for myself here.”
My eyes narrowed. “Seriously? What’s worse than here?”
The Hunter met my stare, squaring his shoulders. “What’s it to you? If you’re trying to take me on as your new charity project, I’m not interested.”
“What? No, it’s not that.” I looked down, realizing that he was still seeing me as a resort guest and from the perspective of miles stretching between our social classes.
Well, fuck that.
“Look, can I trust you to keep your mouth shut?” I asked. “At least for a little bit?”
He cocked his head but humored me. “Sure. We gladiators aren’t exactly all buddy-buddy with each other. And I’m obviously not getting along with the staff.”
“Right, makes sense. Well, my name’s Torrance. You can call me Torr. And this shit?” I pinched at the fabric of my shirt, looking around as I lowered my voice. “It’s all bullshit. I’m not one of these people.”
The Hunter’s expression didn’t change, though I saw his gaze sharpen. He was observing me for any twitchy, lying behavior. “How are you here then?”
“I’m still not sure exactly. Connections, I guess. But we’re undercover, sort of. Trying to sniff out this place, and yeah, it’s fucking rotten.”
“We?” he repeated. “You mean, you and your wife?”
I wish.
