CHAPTER 29 – Grace
My heart was beating so fast I thought it might take wings and fly away. My good hand trembled, the one with the broken finger throbbed, and the side of my face felt swollen and hot. Even so, I wanted to fight. It was beyond a want, it was a need. Watching Ink battle had hurt my soul in a way I never thought possible. Seeing his pain almost crippled me, so I understood where his anger was coming from. It was the only reason I didn’t kick the stubborn ass as he turned his back on me and walked away.
“No,” Ink roared, lunging toward Jebediah.
A single shot from somewhere up high hit the snow right in front of Ink, bringing him to a grinding halt.
“That’s your one and only warning shot,” Jebediah calmly said. “You can either behave, support your woman, or I’ll shoot you and take your woman.” He added with a smile.
Ink’s entire body vibrated with fury.
“Ink, I need you to strap my hand,” I implored.
I could do this, I was a good fighter, Ink had trained me well, but if I didn’t have him standing behind me, believing in me, it would crack this delicate new relationship we had carved out for ourselves. My trust in him was unwavering, now he needed to trust me.
Grabbing at his hair he tugged with a punishing grip before yelling into the heavens above, then he turned and stormed toward me. I’d never had his anger focused on me before and had I not understood where it was coming from it might have frightened me. Instead, all I could think was how much I loved him, even while cloaked in dark rage.
“Fabulous!” Jebediah shouted. “I’m feeling generous. So, I’ll give you a minute to wrap that mangled finger of hers.”
Ink ignored him as he kept coming toward me, trying unsuccessfully to hide his limp. That weakness only proved I was doing the right thing. The stormy look in his eyes, the harsh, flat scowl of his usual full lips, and the rigid line of his tense posture urged me to submit and cower. But I did no such thing. We were equals in this, and I was about to prove it to him by killing Jeze.
Tugging off my jacket, I proceeded to pull off one of my thermal layers underneath. Ink came to a stop directly in front of me, his breath huffing in and out of his nose like an angry bull.
“Use this to wrap my hand.” Holding out the shirt, Ink stubbornly ignored it.
“Don’t do this Grace. I can’t… I won’t… Just—”
“I know,” I sighed.
Lowering my hand I took a step into his body, feeling the heat pouring off his battle-worn form. I knew what he was trying to say, but couldn’t find the words for. I knew how much this scared him.
“It will hurt watching me, just like I hurt watching you. Your heart will want to split in two, your soul will want to scream. I know, Ink. I’ve just lived through it, twice.”
“You don’t have to do this. I can fight,” he growled in a low voice, his jaw tense.
“Probably, but I’m fresh, I’m whole, I’m not suffering from blood loss. I have a better chance.”
Ink’s shoulders fell ever so slightly, the first sign of defeat.
Grabbing onto that single, delicate thread, I continued to pull. “I can fight, I’m good, you made me that way, and I need this. I need to hurt her… for you.”
With that, he unraveled. Reaching out a hand still coated in the blood of our enemies, he wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck and pulled me closer, resting his forehead against mine. “If anything happens to you…” He left the sentence unfinished.
“I know.”
“We need to end this,” he finally whispered.
“I’m going to kill her.”
With a nod, Ink pulled away and took the shirt from my fingertips.
Abruptly, I dropped to one knee, and Ink cast me a curious frown. “I need you to do something,” I murmured.
Ink dropped down in front of me, careful of his wounded leg, and using his body to block the staring eyes around us, I discretely reached into my boot and pulled out the small blade hidden there.
“Wrap my hand, but wrap this with it.”
His eyes peered under thick lashes, pride filling their depths. Taking my hand with infinite gentleness, he examined my broken finger. Blinking once, then twice, he returned his gaze to me, and this time I saw something new. Trust, acceptance, faith.
“This is going to hurt.”
Nodding, I fortified myself against the pain. My finger was bent backward in a way that defied logic. It was broken, and it needed to be brought in line with my other fingers. Reaching for my discarded jacket lying beside us, I shoved it in my mouth. With another nod, I let Ink know I was ready. With quick, efficient hands, Ink gripped my finger and tugged it back into alignment, and I screamed. I screamed until my throat burned and allowed the tears to spill.
“It’s okay,” Ink chanted as he packed some ice around my hand before using my thermal shirt to wrap it tightly. “You’re so brave.”
The knife’s grip was tucked inside the wrapping under my palm, the blade following the line of my broken finger.
“You’re going to have to clench your fist to get your fingers out of the way to use this, and that’s going to hurt like a motherfucker.”
Spitting out my self-imposed gag, I mumbled an, “okay,” while I took deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth.
“Keep some distance to begin with. Feel her out, watch for weaknesses.”
Nodding, I watched as Ink tied off my bound hand.
“She’ll be skilled, but so are you. Don’t be distracted, not by anything.” Grabbing my chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he lifted my gaze to his. “Do you hear me? Not by anything. If they try and use me to distract you, ignore it. Trust I can handle myself.”
“Like you trust I can do this?”
He didn’t even hesitate to nod.
“Let’s get this party started,” Jebediah shouted.
Pulling me to my feet, Ink cupped my cheeks and dragged my lips to his. His kiss was demanding, violent, aggressive and angry, but underneath all the layers of hard possession it was filled with love, sorrow and hope. I kissed him back with equal amounts passion and ferocity, both of us saying with our lips what we couldn’t verbalize. With one last dip of his tongue, Ink pulled away and without another word, he took a few hesitant steps backward until he was standing just inside the circle of men. Soldiers immediately shadowed him, wary of his presence and just waiting for him to move so they would have a reason to attack. Someone picked up the knife Ink had used to kill Sawyer, and moved it back to its position at the far end of the circle. My own blade tucked away in the folds of my wrapped hand gave me the illusion of safety. It bolstered my confidence as I pushed my shoulders back and moved to face Jeze, who already stood in the center of our battle arena.
“All right ladies,” Jebediah began. “You know the rules… there are no rules. Winner gets her man. Fight.”
I was the first to move, taking sure steps forward, watching Jeze as I circled her. She watched me with curious, probing eyes. Neither of us had seen each other fight, we had no idea of the others weaknesses or skill. Raising my hands, but making sure to keep my blade hidden from view, I stepped forward and rotated with a sweeping kick which narrowly missed her face.
Ducking away from my attack, Jeze pulled her own hands up and began to echo my movement, both of us circling each other. Watching. Waiting. With a swift combination of jabs, Jeze moved into my body, her fist whispering over my chin as I stepped out of her reach. Dropping, she swept out a leg which I jumped over, and before she could finish her sweeping attack, I kicked her in the lower back and sent her stumbling to her knees. Jeze recovered quickly though, not even using her hands to jump back to her feet. Settling into a defensive position, Jeze watched me closely as I used my good hand in a punch leveled at her face. With a block, she knocked my injured hand aside, and I groaned as pain shot down my entire arm. The momentary lapse gave her an opening, and she punched me square in the face and followed it with a kick to my stomach.
Air was pummeled from my lungs as I stumbled backward, and Jeze kept coming forward. Her eyes were narrowed with focus, her body coiled tight, not a weakness to be found. Shaking off the punch to my face and abdomen, I spun, stretching out my leg for another kick, this time making it through Jeze’s defensive arms and hitting her ribs. A low grunt spilled from her lips as she stumbled a few steps, but she came back at me with twice as much venom, throwing combination punches and kicks that I barely blocked. Bouncing on my feet, I moved away, giving myself a moment to shake off her attack.
“No bad,” Jeze murmured. The sound of her voice shocked me. She was always the silent presence beside Jebediah, never allowing a slither of emotion to crack her icy composure. “But let’s face it, you aren’t a killer. You don’t have that in you.”
“I killed within the first hour of you breaching our compound.”
Jeze actually snorted out a small bark of laughter. “With a gun, not your hands. Killing with your hands, that’s personal. It takes something special to be able to take a life in such a way, and frankly, you don’t have it in you.”
Her taunting worked to prickle my temper, and I leaned into a sidekick before spinning with my elbow, both of which she easily deflected. Jeze angled a punch up under my raised arms, connecting with my kidneys, again taking the breath out of my lungs.
“You have a choice here, you know. Give up now, and I’ll let you live. Jebediah has made it no secret he wants you. Concede defeat and you will live, both of you. I’ll take Ink, and Jeb will take you.” Her words were delivered with sincere intent, her serious gaze steadfast and resolute. There was actually compassion twisted beneath the dark depths of her murderous eyes. She truly wanted to give me an out, and she honestly believed I would choose to give up, to simply give Ink to her and myself to Jebediah. It was in this moment I realized her weakness. She didn’t truly understand loyalty, she didn’t understand passion, she didn’t know love. I had that, she didn’t, and that gave me an edge she didn’t possess.
I wiggled my broken finger, testing its mobility and clenched my teeth through the agonizing pain. “While I appreciate your so-called choices…” I spat out the word with distaste, “… the fact is, Ink and I would rather die than be enslaved to you and your sick, twisted fuck of a brother.”
Any sign of compassion disappeared, and that brutal exterior with cruel purpose slid back into place. This time it was Jeze who kicked, and I grunted as her boot hit my face.
I felt my teeth cut through my cheek, and I turned to one side and spat out a mouthful of blood into the slush and snow, I heard Ink’s voice over the cheering men. “Fuck Grace, finish the bitch.” There was more anger in his voice than concern, and it added to my determination.
I knew Jeze was a better fighter than me, her punches precise, her body moving with fluidity, she was born to do this. Ink had taught me all he could, and I could hold my own, but this wasn’t what I was born to do. I wasn’t violent by nature. Already my body was lagging, my energy dwindling. Adrenaline tried to compensate for what I was losing, but it couldn’t keep up.
“Just so you know, he will submit to me. Before this night ends, Ink will be on his knees worshipping me… again.” The ‘again’ was a slap to the face. But Ink hadn’t worshipped her, his body had been stolen by drugs and used against him. By her.
Clenching my fist, a scream was ripped from my body, but my anger and resolve kept me standing. Ducking under another of Jeze’s powerful punches, I thrust my fist into her ribs and allowed the knife to slice through flesh, the hard scrape of the blade suggesting I’d nicked a bone. Jeze cried out, dragging herself away from my body, the shock on her face bringing a smile to my own.
“Not possible,” I growled as Jeze brought her hand away from her ribs covered in blood. “Because before this night ends, you will be a rotting corpse.”