Champion(22)
Blaine stared at her for a long moment, then he reached out, his callused fingers brushing over her jaw. “Your strength and courage are astonishing.”
For the first time in years, Saff fought back a blush. Suddenly, a wind whipped up from nowhere, tossing her braids around and pricking at her eyes.
“Sandstorm coming in,” Galen yelled. “We need to get out of here and back to Kor Magna. Like it or not, we have a fight tonight.”
Blaine cursed and Saff squeezed his fingers. “We won’t give up on them.”
A brusque nod. “Right now, I want to fight in the arena.” His hand flexed. “I need to fight.”
She watched him turn back to his tarnid, a chill running down her spine. She felt the ugly emotion pulsing off him. He wanted to be in the arena to take out his frustration—to hurt and be hurt. And despite what he’d told her, she didn’t believe he’d be careful out there.
Saff gripped the reins of her own beast. Fine. If Blaine wouldn’t protect himself, she’d do it for him.
***
Blaine hammered his fist into the gel bag dangling from the ceiling of the gym. He kept thinking of Dayna, Mia, and Winter. They had to be terrified. He was well aware he was a big guy, but the women were all so delicate compared to the alien species here.
He kept punching his fists into the gel bag, harder and harder, like he could purge the darkness roaring inside him…
Suddenly, the bag burst, splattering blue gel on the floor.
He heaved in some harsh breaths. That was the third one he’d destroyed since they’d returned from the desert.
He looked up, catching his reflection in the mirror on the gym wall. For a second, he barely recognized himself. His face was twisted with anger, and his bare chest was covered in scars and gleaming with sweat. His black hair was far longer than he’d ever worn it, and he snarled. Blaine was out of control, a shadow of the man he’d once been.
And now he realized he might never be that man again.
His hands curled into fists, his chin hitting his chest.
Movement in the mirror caught his attention, and he lifted his head. Saff stood just behind him.
Strong, tall Saff, who ignited something in his blood. Something else he couldn’t control.
“You have word on the women?” he asked.
“Nothing yet.” She walked up to him, reaching out to touch his back.
“Then why are you here?” he snapped. The nightmares inside him morphed into a horrid ball of hurt and anger, and it wanted to lash out.
She dropped her hand, her face a blank mask. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He spun to face her. “You want to help me? Heal me? Fix me?”
Something ignited in her own gaze. “No. I just want you to know that you aren’t alone.”
He advanced on her. “I feel alone. I’m the only human man on Carthago, hell, in this part of the galaxy. I feel alone when the urge for the drugs is riding me so hard I want to puke.”
Saff backed up a few steps. “Blaine—”
He kept advancing. “I feel alone when I’m a lather of sweat in my bed at night and can’t sleep. I feel alone when I can’t damn well smell a damn thing. Or when thoughts of those women, who I should’ve kept safe, crawl through my head.”
Saff spread her feet wide. “You don’t have to go through it all by yourself.”
He stepped forward until his chest was pressed against hers. “I’m alone when I remember the face of every person that I had to kill in the fight rings.”
“You aren’t a bad man, Blaine. You just had bad things forced on you.” She lifted her chin. “You think you’re the first person who’s been forced to kill people?”
A small voice in Blaine’s head reminded him that she’d been forced to fight, too. And she’d been just a child. Saff had her own nightmares.
Right now, his own demons were riding him hard, and they needed a release.
He moved fast, sliding his hands under Saff’s arms, and lifting her off her feet. She gasped, and he took several strides until her back hit the stone wall.
He expected her to hit him, but she just watched him with a raised brow. “So what now, Earth man? You going to take a hit? Fight with me?”
“No,” he growled. Then he slammed his mouth to hers.
Saff went still for half a second, then her arms wrapped around him and she kissed him back.
The kiss was neither sweet nor gentle. It was exactly what he wanted: hard, fast, with an edge. Fuck, she tasted like caramel, and as her hands dug into his shoulders for leverage, her tongue dueled with his.
She nipped his bottom lip. Hard enough to draw blood. He growled.
“What do you want, Blaine?” she purred.