CHAPTER 28 – Ink
Seeing Trigger hit Grace had shifted something fundamental inside of me. Where Gracie had managed to thaw my heart, watching her be beaten iced it over again. The only care in my world, my Gracie, was a flicker of a flame in a blinding darkness, and while that flame danced with constant life, I embraced the darkness. I sought it out, I breathed it deep into my soul. Death and destruction lived inside me now, I had to make them all fucking bleed, especially Trigger. Jebediah’s men were still watching the barracks, but the fight was a perfect distraction. Fury was now in charge of my soldiers inside and would take the lead in our final stand. We had no other options—our time was up.
My gaze left the dead body at my feet and singled out my flame, my Gracie. She looked a mess. Her broken hand clutched against her chest, her face battered, blood was smudged across one cheek. But her shoulders were pressed back, her body screaming defiance, even while facing death. And fuck if that didn’t burn, the thought of her dying. I didn’t want to accept it, while my rational brain knew there was no way we were walking away from this. I would do everything in my power to keep her safe. I’d drag my bleeding body over hot coals just to reach her and protect her, but I knew this was our final stand, and people were going to die. Gracie and I were on the front line, our death was as sure as the sun rising tomorrow.
My next opponent strolled out into the circle, a sneer on his face, smug words slung to try and dig under my skin. They bounced right off my darkness, nothing could get into that impenetrable obscurity. Dragging my gaze from Gracie was like tearing my body in half, but I pinned my hatred and anger on my new enemy. Sawyer. Confident, cocky, a killer. I could see it in his dull eyes, there was no humanity in there, only death. He couldn’t match the darkness inside me though, he didn’t have the same motivation, and he hadn’t just watched a man snap his heart and soul’s bones like they were meaningless twigs.
Rolling my shoulders, I turned my back on the dead body and strolled into the center of the circle.
“Maybe you want to be Jeze’s bitch.” His smile looked wicked, but those eyes remained empty.
I didn’t speak, I wasn’t here to talk. Instead, I lurched into action. Swinging around, I raised my leg in an arc, relishing the sound of my boot landing on his face, sending him flying back into the snow. A small smile cracked my icy composure as Sawyer shook his head and rose to his feet, wiping blood from his nose which smeared the red mess across his face.
Settling into a battle stance, feet spread, knees bent, and arms raised, the cocky fucker came at me. I met him hit for hit, his fists brutal and fast. The adrenaline in my body gifted me energy that would otherwise be lagging, and I breathed deep for the oxygen that deprived my lungs. My foot slid on a section of hard ice and Sawyer took the advantage, managing to get a punch through my defense, pounding the side of my head. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I ducked and slipped a right hook into his kidneys. Dancing back a couple of steps, I shook out the ringing in my ears and felt something trickle over my skin and down my brow. Blood. Wiping it away before it had a chance to fall into my eye, I kept my gaze on Sawyer who stormed toward me. He continued to throw punches which I blocked, ducked and weaved.
Spinning, I jabbed an elbow into his bowed head which caught his chin, throwing him backward. Falling, he rolled with the momentum, and when he came to his feet he was grinning feverishly. Sweat and blood tried to seep into my vision, and with a shake of my head, I flicked it away. Sawyer slowly raised his hand, and I realized why he looked so goddamned smug. One long, sharp blade rested in his fist. We’d fought our way across the circle, and I hadn’t even realized how close to a weapon we had moved.
Wasting no time, Sawyer flew forward and slashed at my chest. The blade sliced through my shirt, barely a whisper against my flesh. With the knife held in a hammer grip and the blade reversed, pointing back at him, I watched as he sliced and stabbed with skill. This was a trained fighter, and it was obvious he was more than comfortable with the blade. Allowing him to take a few swings at my body, I used my forearms to knock away each strike while I watched him fight, searching for any weakness. Another slice and this time the burning sting at my bicep told me he’d found purchase.
Lunging forward, the knife was plunged toward my middle, and I scrambled backward and ducked down on my haunches, missing the blow by less than an inch. When I rose to my feet, it was with my palm flexed open as I slammed it into Sawyer’s nose. Roaring through the pain, he was momentarily blinded with tears.
Now he had a weakness, his vision was compromised. Stepping into his body, I took another wild slash from the knife across my chest as I punched him in the nose I’d just broken. Sawyer fell to his knees, blood gushing, and his eyes blinking rapidly to move away the watery blur.
A loud explosion, followed by an agonizing pain in my thigh made me stumble, and I quickly back peddled away from my target as I tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened. Glancing down I found blood pooling from my upper thigh. Behind me, I could hear Gracie screaming her throat raw. Had I been shot? Turning, my incredulous gaze found Jebediah with one of his embellished guns held in a tight grip with his arm outstretched.
“Well, how about that,” he said, as silence descended upon us. “It was fifty-fifty as to whether I would hit you or my own man, lucky fucking break.”
“You fucking shot me?” I growled with disbelief.
“My game, my rules.”
Holstering his weapon, Jebediah grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. Testing my weight on my injured leg made me wince. It fucking burned, but this pain I could handle. My own pain was like an aphrodisiac, feeding me proof I was alive, that my body was a weapon and I would continue to fight until my heart took its last pounding beat. It was Gracie’s pain that tore me in two. Glancing her way, I noticed a soldier had her held in his unforgiving grip, a palm shoved over her mouth to silence her.
“Get your hands off my woman,” I snarled, my voice barely recognizable to even myself.
The fucker grinned at me before slowly removing his hand. Sawyer’s heavy boots in the snow were a loud roar in the silent night as he approached me from behind. Ducking and rolling, I popped back up to my feet, my thigh screaming at me, and punched the fucker in the kidneys. I loved his rumble of pain, it fed me, energized me.
Snapping out my hand, I circled his wrist and found the pressure point, jamming my fingers into the soft flesh. Unable to maintain the grip on his knife, he roared with a mixture of agony and frustration as it fell to the ground. With a quick jab to the throat, I silenced him. Ducking to reach for the weapon, I flicked the blade around in my hand until I found the comfortable grip resting in my palm, then I thrust it deep into Sawyer’s stomach. It sliced through as if I were butchering a plate of butter. The action brought me into his body and seeing the panic and pain in his eyes, so up close and personal, was glorious.
“Give me a few minutes…” I hissed. “And I’ll send Jeze to hell with you. Then she can be your bitch!”
Twisting the knife, I imagined the blade rupturing organs and slicing tissue. Wrenching it from his body, I flicked the dripping blood away. Sawyer swayed on the spot for a moment before taking an unsteady step toward me, not ready to give in even though the wound I’d inflicted was a mortal one. Knocking away his weak punch, I swung and dug the blade of the knife into his flank before standing tall and reversing my grip on the knife as I ran it across the tendons of his throat.
With blood pouring from gruesome wounds, Sawyer fell to his knees, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. It didn’t take long for his eyes to fade and his face to go slack as he crumpled into the snow. With morbid fascination I watched his blood, his very life-force, bleed out into the mud and slush like a river having escaped its banks. My vision wavered, my body staggering to one side as my own blood loss began to catch up with me.
A slow clap tugged my attention away from Sawyer’s body. Jebediah strolled toward me, the clap increasing until he was grinning like a lunatic and standing only a few short feet away. My hand clenched the knife. I could so easily lunge forward and end him, sink the blade into his chest and find his black heart.
“Tut, tut, tut,” Jebediah purred. “Don’t forget I have my very own sniper, and he will put a bullet in that thick skull of yours, Ink. You won’t get one step before your head explodes and I wear your brain splatter like an exquisite cloak.”
“He can’t fight Jeze with the bullet in his leg, that’s not fair.” Gracie suddenly appeared beside me, her frightened eyes dropping to my wounded leg.
Jebediah rolled his eyes. “Who let the bird go?” Turning to face his men, the soldier who had his meaty paw over her lips grinned and took a step forward.
“Don’t worry boss, I’ll catch her.” The man moved like fluid water, marching toward Gracie with a sick lustful look on his face.
“Touch her, and I’ll bury this blade in your throat.” Flicking the knife around so I held its blade, I prepared to throw it. I was no expert when it came to knife throwing, but I was highly motivated to hit my target.
Jebediah held up a hand, stopping his soldier in his tracks. “My dear, little bird, the agreement was your Ink had to fight three of my men, he’s only defeated two. Though, if you wish to call it a day, Ink, I’d be happy to consider this a defeat and take Grace back to my humble abode. My dick hasn’t had a good drenching in a few days, I’m eager to finish this nonsense and fuck for a few hours.”
His words drove images to my mind that made my blood boil with rage. If he reached for Gracie, I’d attack him, sniper be damned.
“I have another suggestion,” Gracie said through gritted teeth, surprising both Jebediah and I. “Let me fight Jeze.”
My eyes widened and I was already shaking my head with disbelief, my gaze narrowed on the woman standing before me. Gracie glared back, standing tall and proud, daring me to object. She should know me better than that. Fuck yes I’d object, and fuck yes, I’d let everyone know.
“Not a chance,” I spat out.
“You’re injured, you’re losing blood. The odds are against you, Ink,” she began.
“Nice time to show your lack of faith in me, Gracie.” It was an asshole thing to say, but there was no way I was allowing her to fight. I couldn’t, there wasn’t a single molecule in my body which would allow me to stand back and watch her battle with anyone, let alone Jebediah’s crazy sister.
“I can fight. You’ve been training me since I was twelve, I can do this.”
“Like fuck you can,” I roared.
Gracie flinched, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she ignored me and turned her attention to Jebediah. “Let me fight for Ink. After all, he’s Jeze’s prize, I should get the opportunity to fight for him.”
“Not gonna happen.” I fixed my furious gaze on Jebediah, who actually seemed to be considering Gracie’s proposal. “This is my fight. Three of your men, remember?”
Jebediah simply arched a brow.
“It should be my fight, I should be allowed to fight for my man,” Gracie stubbornly argued.
“You can’t fight, your finger is broken.”
“And you’ve been shot,” she screamed, an incredulous tone to her voice.
I wasn’t going to argue with her, this was pointless, and we were wasting time. Turning my back on both her and Jebediah, I walked a short distance away signaling Jeze forward. “Come on, bitch, let’s see how you handle me without the drugs.”
Jeze didn’t move. Instead, she glanced at Jebediah, waiting for his decision. I didn’t dare look at Gracie, her anger was a tangible force that heated my skin. She could be pissed at me all she liked, she could stare her daggers, she could argue until she was blue in the face, but she was not fighting.
A small grin cracked Jebediah’s thoughtful composure. “Interesting turn of events, wouldn’t you say, Ink?”
Shaking my head, I growled, “Don’t you dare fucking do it.”
Jebediah turned his back on me, a testament to how invincible he really thought himself. He was only human though, a man who bled like everyone else. “What do you say? You boys up for a little girl on girl action?”
His men hollered and yelled out crude remarks.
He was going to do it. Gracie’s offer was just too tempting for a sadistic fucker like himself.
With a smirk, he glanced over his shoulder. “Well, Ink, I hope your woman’s got more than a bitch slap in her repertoire. Gracie, you’re up.”