Page 54 of Wild Child
"And if I don't?"
Kimball shrugged. "Dunno. He'll probably kill you. If he doesn't, we won't be taking you home. So you’ll have to figure it out from there."
"Different proposal," I countered. "I win, Ellie goes free."
"If you lose?"
"I won't."
Kimball laughed. On the other side of the ring, Joe rose back to his feet. Next to him, the smaller man named Collins hissed like a snake, indecipherable. The crack of the bonfire created too much noise for me to hear words, but the bright gleam of Joe's eyes meant he thought I didn't have a chance. Even with his groggy steps and struggle to stay conscious.
Maybe that rat-like little man was right.
Maybe I didn't have a chance against Joe. Joe who already glistened with sweat and blood. Joe who weighed at least fifty pounds more than me and had shoulders like a tree. His eyes held that same bright, stiff expression, like he'd snorted something. Fists like his could topple a brick wall. Their whack on my head when we first arrived made certain I wasn't in great shape either. When I didn't have a walloping headache that could be a head injury, I'd barely have a chance with this guy.
But my anger was back—and it was ready.
Ready to throw fists. Ready to vent the building aggression that had been simmering under the surface since I hit American soil again. A life or death situation would be the excuse I needed to vent the truth that haunted me every night.
I shouldn't have survived.
The guy with the scarred face looked as if he were going to protest my new terms, but Kimball spoke before he could.
"Fine. Ellie goes free."
Kimball lied—he'd no sooner set Ellie free than he'd let me live. All of this was sport, and he'd probably try to kill me by the end of it. The back-and-forth was only an attempt to buy time for her to get away undetected. But when Ididbeat Kimball's meathead slave, then they'd all be scared. I'd have the upper hand. Frightened men made terrible decisions, and that might be the only edge I needed in order to get us out of here.
No further sounds issued from the cabin, which hopefully meant she'd cleared it and was on her way out. I needed to stall more, because I didn't know if Kimball would follow her or not.
How badly did they want their prize?
I had to assume they'd follow.
Although I had no idea what they'd done to her—if they tied her up or knocked her out or drugged her—I felt in my bones that she'd get away. She'd fight, somehow. The cat-like young girl that had flown into a rage against her step-father and choked him to unconsciousness to save her sister's life flashed back through my mind.
Ellie would fight.
And shebetterget out of here.
"Step up to the circle, Joe," Kimball cried, but he backed out of reach like a frightened cat as Joe advanced. Warily, I watched Joe's every step. He walked heavy-footed, but certain. I’d guess he would be slow to pivot, but he'd punch hard.
A flood of uncertainty filled me when he stopped a few steps away. His too-long stare trained on me, but I couldn't tell if he saw me or not. Was he with it? One of his cheekbones had taken a hit, the top skin scraped off to reveal a bright red underlayer. A purplish bruise bubbled up from underneath. The same gentle dusting of powder showed around his nostrils.
I shoved my lacking confidence back and shook my head, the pungent smell of lighter fluid filling in my nose. Whatever drug they'd given these men, I had to hope it slowed them down, because my only tactical advantage here was speed. Adrenalin rocketed around my veins in anticipation of the fight and alleviated my headache. I honed in on Joe, who tilted to the side and caught himself just before he fell.
Maybe this would be simple.
Then Joe let out a bellow like a livid ape. Blood vessels popped out on his forehead when he bent at the waist, flexed his arms, and charged at me like a bull.
And suddenly, I knew we were utterly screwed.
15
Ellie
The sound of flesh hitting flesh made me choke.
Frantic, I tripped over my own feet for the tenth time and barely kept from jostling a bush. Blood freckled my hands and wrists. I'd narrowly missed cutting an artery as I sawed through the ropes to freedom. Smears of crimson decorated the lighter fluid container that I'd been clutching for the last sixty seconds. Sneaking out the back window had been treacherous. The entire cabin threatened to pitch over with any jostle. Thanks to Devin's loud conversation with Kimball, I freed myself without drawing suspicion.
