Page 7 of Taken By the Alien Killer

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I slam my knee into his side.

Again.

Her voice, her face—it won’t leave me. Her green eyes flickering when she leaned over the board. The smell of citrus and fire-wine in her hair. The curve of her mouth when she said it, like itmeant nothing.

Like she wasn’t carving out my lungs with every syllable.

The Odex swings wide, desperate. I catch his wrist midair, twist it until he drops. My foot crashes into his ribs. He drops harder.

I climb on top of him, my fists like hammers.

One hit. Two.

He tries to block. I don’t let him.

Three. Four. Blood. Screaming. I think someone’s yelling my name.

I don’t stop.

I want to break him.

Not because he’s my enemy.

Because Ican’tbreak her.

She’s choosing him.

Shewantsthis.

She must.

Right?

My claws are out now. Somewhere in the haze I hear the referee screaming, trying to call it, to wave me off.

I don’t care.

Five. Six. More blood. It’s on my hands, my chest,in my mouth.

Seven.

“Rayek!” someone bellows. “Stop!”

I freeze.

Not because of the voice.

Because of the image that flashes behind my eyes—Star, on her wedding day, eyes downcast, lips pressed into a smile that doesn’t reach her soul.

I shove off the Odex like he’s made of ash. He twitches. Coughs. Still alive. Good.

Barely.

The crowd goes silent. Then the roar crests again like a tidal wave. They love it. Love the carnage. They don’t know I’m already dead inside.

I stagger out of the ring, chest heaving, blood soaking through the wraps on my knuckles. I don’t hear what the announcer says. Don’t care.

The silence in my mind now is worse than the noise.

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