Page 86 of Seven Oars
The pirates shuffled back, leaving Phex exposed to their leader. At the same time, the energy in the room heightened: they wanted to see the Striker and Phex fight.
“What would we fight for? Give me a purpose,” the Striker said, stopping within arm’s reach of Phex.
Extracting a small cutting tool from a side pocket, the Striker sliced through Phex’s bonds.Standing close, they were the same general height and build, startlingly well-matched.
Phex was ready.
“If I win, I claim protection for all the women.”
Fincros wrinkled his forehead, the motion pulling at his skin and further disfiguring his right side.
Rosamma hoped it hurt.
“Aren’t you precious,” he sneered.“And would you like us all to just launch ourselves the fuck out of the trash chute and leave this station to you?”
The pirates brayed with laughter.
Fawn clapped, misunderstanding what was being said, until Gro slapped down her hands.
The Striker raised one finger.“One woman. The one you fucked. Win—and you get to keep her.”
“And if I lose?” Phex asked.
“You’ll have problems if you lose.”
“I already have problems. I bet you fight dirty too.”
An ugly sneer curled Fincros’mouth.“I fight to win,” he said.“And you’re a moron. With your stupid convictions, it’s no surprise you’re stuck on Seven Oars.”
“So are you,” Phex parried smoothly.
Fincros’sneer slipped.“You’re here because you fucked up a field trip with a bunch of girls. I survived Sir-Sar. We’re not the same.”
He moved then, a blur in Rosamma’s eyes, launching himself at Phex. She’d never seen a body move so fast. Not even her brother Ren could snap into action like that.
Phex wasn’t slow himself. He’d anticipated the attack, yet his defense slipped at the collision.
The Striker slammed him against the wall. He was just a tad faster.
Was he also stronger? Possibly, though Phex matched him so well in size.
Rosamma gripped her braid.
Fincros knew that Phex was weakened. Heknew. He’d allowed and encouraged the pirates to beat Phex and beat Phex and beat him again. It was a deliberate tactic to keep their captive defender controlled.
Ah, but the Striker hadn’t counted on one crucial detail, Rosamma’s healing touch.Phex wasn’t as weak as he expected.
They churned around the Habitat like a tornado, threatening to mow down the women in their deadly path.
Phex evaded a punch and struck Fincros across the face.
Rosamma almost cheered.
Visually, theirs was a beautiful fight. Unlike Nud and Xorris sloppily swinging around, every move from Phex and the Striker had precision and accuracy. If it were a show, she might’ve enjoyed the display, despite abhorring violence of any kind. Their speed and force were better than any movie’s special effects.
But it wasn’t a show.
If Phex lost, the Striker might decide to kill him, after all.
