Page 83 of Fractured Allegiance
There’s blood on my hands now. My own, maybe. Doesn’t matter.
Because she’s still watching.
And something in her eyes has changed.
Not pity.
Not revulsion.
Just... understanding.
Recognition.
She’s not afraid of me.
And that terrifies me more than anything else here.
The last opponent is quiet. Smaller. Older.
Doesn’t talk.
Just circles.
I let him.
For a minute.
Then I close the space, catch his wrist mid-punch, and break it with one clean snap. He drops. Screams.
I grab him by the back of the neck and hold him there until he taps.
And even then, I don’t let go right away.
The crowd loses it.
Drazen walks up to the edge of the ring. His smile is all teeth.
He doesn’t speak for a while.
Then he says, loud enough for me, and only me, to hear: “She watched all of it.”
He claps.
Three times.
Turns. Leaves.
I look back.
But she’s gone.
I step out of the ring and move around.
The blood’s still on my knuckles when I find her.
She’s in the upper corridor near the back exit, halfway between the restricted staircase and the glass door that leads to the parking lot. The crowd downstairs is still roaring. But here — up here — it’s quieter.
Lydia doesn’t turn around when I step into the hallway.
