Page 33 of The Pretty Savage

"Don't touch that!" Yolanda screeched. "I could barely stop the bleeding."

I could barely move my right shoulder and the ribs on my left side felt as if they were broken in ten different places, but I knew if that were the case, I wouldn't have been here, breathing and able to sit up.

"What fucking happened?" I asked, lowering my hand and trying to focus on her face.

Yolanda fidgeted in her spot, looking anywhere but at me. "You saved my life," she said softly, her eyes filling with tears as they connected with mine. "God, Vega, what the fuck were you thinking?" I wasn't thinking, and that was the problem. Alena reprimanded me enough times that I couldn't save every single person, but hell, I could try. And if I had another chance, I would still do the same. "I thought you were dead when he punched you," she whimpered, and I hated the vise-like grip her words had on my heart.

For whatever reason, she cared about my well-being, and maybe it was idiotic to get attached to a person after just meeting them, but something told me Yolanda needed me, and maybe, just maybe, I needed her as well.

"I cannot believe you stood up to Adrian Zylla, you silly goose," she murmured, wrapping her hand around my wrist. "Don't ever do that again." So, I didn't imagine him?

Bits and pieces floated slowly through my consciousness, the memories of men and women lying at my feet, defeated after our fights, only to catapult me into the moment when Adrian fucking Zylla waltzed toward me, saying I wasn't good enough.

I thought the anger I felt would disappear after a night, but it fucking bothered me, and I hated being bothered by things that didn't even matter. Who gave a fuck if Adrian Zylla thought I wasn't good enough for their little club? I wasn't here to become his best fucking friend. I was here to find out what he was doing at the Academy and what his father was planning.

Nothing more, nothing less.

"I thought he was going to kill you," Yolanda said, rubbing her thumb over my arm. "When I saw you fall down, when I saw him punch you in the face and then carry you out of The Pit, I thought I would never see you again." He carried me out? Why? "Gabriela stopped him as he started climbing up the stairs."

"From the outside?" I shuddered. There was no way he would be able to carry me and go up those stairs of death.

"No, there's an entrance to The Pit from the inside of the Academy. God, Vega, he looked terrifying when Gabriela told him not to be an even bigger asshole and to hand you over."

"Well, he obviously handed me over."

Yolanda got a funny look on her face, before speaking again. "I mean, he brought you here. Dante got involved, he and Gabriela bickered the entire way, but Adrian didn't want to let you go. You should've seen the look on his face, Vega. I have never seen anyone look that dangerous."

"He was probably pissed he wouldn't get to kill me after all."

"Yeah," she smiled, "I don't know about that. The moment he punched you, the crowd went silent. They were really cheering for you—they liked you."

"No." I shook my head. "They were cheering for him, not me."

"It was a mix, babe. Do you have any idea what you did last night?"

"Uh, I fought?"

"No, Vega. You fought against seven people, and you won every single time. I have no freaking idea how you did it, or what got into you, but you looked like an angel of death up there, with blood dripping from your knuckles, incapacitating every single one of your opponents."

"Until Adrian fucking Zylla."

"Yeah." She winced. "Until him. But in all honesty, I had no idea how you managed to stand straight after so many hits. I wanted to strangle you and cheer for you at the same time, because it was obvious you were struggling but you weren't giving up."

What would Yolanda think if I told her that last night wasn't my first brush with that kind of fight? What would she think if I told her that my first initiation into The Schatten meant having to fight against people that were older and more experienced, and it was an actual fight to the death?

"I'm okay," I mumbled, reaching for her hand when a sharp pain stabbed through my left side, making me wince momentarily.

"That's it," she huffed, getting up. "We need to get you to the doctor."

"No." I refused to go to the doctor. The last time I was in the hospital, my mom… Never mind. "No doctors, Yolanda."

"Babe." She frowned at me. "You probably have at least one broken rib and I'd be surprised if there’s no internal bleeding. We need to get you checked out. Adrian wanted to take you last night, but?—"

"Adrian Zylla can eat shit, Yolanda," I grumbled. "I am not going to a fucking doctor, so stop pushing for it." I would've known if I had broken anything. The pain would've been unbearable and as long as I could still stand, I was fine.

I inched toward the edge of the bed, placing my feet on the cold, hard ground, biting down the moan that was threatening to escape as my body moved, reminding me of all the spots where I got hit last night.

"Fuck," I groaned, closing my eyes when the throbbing pain in my shoulder became too much to bear.

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