“Ryder, about last night … I’m sor—”
He cut me off. “It’s fine. You’re right, I have issues.” Without another word he stalked off.
I groaned and went in search of food. Blood hunger was not a good thing and I needed a major distraction from the fact that Jayden would be very shortly fighting for his life. I had every faith in my bestie, but that didn’t make the next few hours any easier.
Then next five days were the worst of my life. Ryder sat by my side and made me watch every fight. He was an expert at noting weaknesses, and he drilled it into me over and over. Of course, it was up to me to read the fighter once I was in the ring, to utilize any and all weaknesses. Twenty-five ash were dead. Each battle was a bloodbath of mammoth proportions, and sometimes as I sat there I wondered how the hell it could even be real. Though Ryder had been right about one thing: I was growing desensitized to the killing.
I mean, in the last fight, the middle-eastern-looking ash had torn out the spinal cord of his opponent – his mutha-freakin’ spinal cord – and I’d barely even flinched. I didn’t like the coldness which was starting to spread out from my chest, but I knew it was essential to me having the smallest chance of surviving. I just hoped when it was all over, if I survived, there would still be some of the old Charlie left inside.
Jayden, who had survived all his fights so far, was in the recovery wing, regrowing part of his calf muscle, and my first fight was in an hour. I forced myself to focus. I could do this. I was strong and smart and had boobs – surely boobs were a distraction I could use to my advantage in an all-male lineup.
After the spinal cord fight, I’d been escorted back into the locker room. I sat on the bench, my foot bouncing in a weird, agitated manner. I hadn’t told my mom or Tessa I was fighting today, skirting around it every time they asked. I couldn’t hear their goodbyes or any sappy shit. Even if that was unfair to them, I needed a clear head.
The door opened and I looked up to meet the eyes of my trainer. Ryder looked all kinds of badass and sexy today. His black-ribbed cotton shirt, tight across the biceps, did more than hint at the heavy muscle beneath. I stood and he crossed over to stand right beside me, dwarfing me as usual with his bulk and height. We clashed gazes. His eyes were a storm cloud of silver gray. I felt it then. The emotions from him were stronger than usual, and I somehow knew that If I died, Ryder would care.
I reached for my focus, starting to jump on the balls of my feet to keep my muscles warm, like he’d taught me.
He met my eyes and nodded. “Charlie.”
I paused mid-jump; a smile spread across my face. “You called me Charlie. What happened to number forty-six?”
He shrugged. “I figured I should probably be nice to you in case you die.”
I chuckled and smacked his tight bicep. He returned my smile but then his face became serious. “Your opponent is strong, but he fought yesterday, so he’s tired and still healing.”
My heart jackknifed in my chest at this news. Opponent. Right. I was going to have to kill a person today. Well, an ash really, but it was the same damn thing to me now.
I felt the blood drain from my face when he reached down and produced the weapon my opponent’s sponsor had chosen for me. It was a black case, which was open to reveal a set of five small throwing stars. I lifted my gaze to Ryder.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I couldn’t kill a cat with those.”
He grinned. “I know. That’s why I told Lucas to assign the sword to your opponent. I want you to steal it from him.”
My mouth dropped as the air wheezed out of me in a huff. That was either a brilliant plan or the stupidest thing I’d heard all week. So much of that relied on skills I probably didn’t possess yet. I just really hoped Ryder knew what he was doing, and that I didn’t let either of us down.
The next forty-five minutes passed in a blur as Ryder made me practice stealing a weapon from him. We ran through about ten different scenarios, depending on how my opponent reacted to our plan. I felt about twelve percent more confident than before, so I was still pretty much up shit creek sans paddle again.
I had about ten minutes of rest time before the buzzer sounded, then it was my turn in the arena. Ryder, gleaming with sweat, turned to face me. “Charlie…”
Charlie. The way he said my name this time … like there were true emotions there, a sense of reverence. He never usually spoke to me like that. I played with the hem of my shirt, unsure of what to do or say. I mean, I had a lot of things to say to him and I could be dead in the next few minutes, but I couldn’t find the right way to express all of my thoughts. Emotion overcame me and tears welled in my eyes. They weren’t tears of fear or pain though, they were angry tears. This wasn’t fair! We were just normal human kids who had free-lovin’ mothers and now we had to kill each other over it.