Page 28 of The Pretty Savage

The man that was speaking over the microphone lowered it down, his dark eyes narrowing at me. "You're not Yolanda," he stated.

"No." I shook my head. "I'm not."

"I don't think you know how this works, little girl."

"I know exactly how this works, old man." If we were going to call each other names, then he might as well get his own. I didn't think he was much older than me, but well… They obviously thought being called a little girl would offend me in one way or another. "You want to have a show, don't you? You want to see which ones of us are worthy." He stood silent in front of me, wondering whether or not he should let me do this. "Well, I am the best you have here."

"Are you now?" He smirked, obviously thinking I was bluffing.

"Oh, I am." I smiled, taking off the mask I had on my face. I wasn't going to hide myself or risk getting more hurt by this contraption on my face. It fell down to the floor, right next to my feet, and I kicked it in his direction. He bent down, picking up my mask. "Are we going to do this or what?"

The crowd became silent as the man in front of me considered his options. He turned around, showing me his back, and it took me a second to figure out who he was looking at.

The tingles raced over my skin when my eyes connected with the eyes of the stranger that knocked me off of my feet earlier. He looked murderous, not so happy to see me up here, but eh, I wasn't exactly happy to spend my evening like this, but doing what had to be done and all that other shit.

He nodded at the man in front of me, and that one small action propelled the rest of the evening.

"Well," the condescending fucker in front of me smiled, "I guess we're doing this."

"Good boy," I chuckled, earning another one of those deathly glares he had. But if they could call me names, so could I.

"What's your name?"

"Vega Konstantinova," I said proudly, keeping my chin held high.

He brought the mic closer to his lips. "We have a change of plans, everyone." I dared to look at the stranger one more time, seeing him with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me with the promise of death in his eyes. I winked at him, tightening my ponytail and rolling up the sleeves of my shirt as I took a stand in the opposite corner of Aisling who was looking at me with curiosity in her eyes. "Vega Konstantinova!"

The moment he roared my name, the crowd went wild, chanting with him and cheering for me. But just like every other time, I locked them out from my head.

Their screams.

The sound of my name.

The stranger whose eyes burned brightly on my skin.

And as I opened my eyes, I looked at my opponent, tilting my head to the side.

They wanted a show? I was about to create a whole-ass circus in this ring.

11

VEGA

Black dots danced in the periphery of my vision as I swayed on my feet, looking down at the groaning girl at my feet. I lost count after the fifth offering, as they so eloquently called them, stepped inside the ring, while my ears still rang from the hit I received from the lanky guy I fought against just before that fourth girl.

From the moment our host, or whatever the fuck he was, announced my name, the crowd didn't stop shouting. I’d been trying to tune them out, to ignore the noise and the fact that I had no idea what I was fighting for, but with each passing opponent it was getting harder and harder staying on my feet, and I had a feeling I wouldn't be able to do this for much longer.

The bitter taste of blood filled my mouth as I dragged my hand over my lips, thinking it was sweat I was wiping, but the red streaks on my hand told me the hit the girl that was now at my feet graced me with broke my skin. Or something.

Somewhere in the distant corner of my mind I knew I would pay dearly for this night and that I wouldn't be able to function for at least two days while I recovered, but surrendering wasn't an option. I didn't dare look in the direction of where I'd left Yolanda, but I couldn't let her fight. There was no way she'd be able to survive the viciousness some of these people possessed.

Viciousness that shocked even me when they started fighting with no honor, no fucking pride, trying to find the weak spots on my body. My left side turned numb a long time ago from the amount of punches I got there, and I was pretty sure the sound I heard coming from my right shoulder didn't indicate anything good.

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" the man that called Yolanda earlier and tried telling me I couldn't do this asked, standing close, and I didn't miss the worried look on his face when his eyes landed on me. Did I really look that bad? "We can st?—"

"I'm fine," I gritted out, smiling widely at him. "We can proceed."

His face shuddered as he took a step closer to me. "Vega," he murmured, keeping the mic away from us. "You need medical attention, ragazza, not another fight."

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