Page 63 of Splintered Desire

That girl is going to be the death of me.

She isn’t the little girl that was Ozy’s shadow all those years ago; she’s a woman now, lethal and sexy as fuck.

I’d been in shock when she texted, but I’d given her my number a few times now. I knew she grew up in shit, and the first time I hoped, at the very least, that she would call if she needed help.

Of course, she didn’t. Zela never wanted to need anyone, especially not after what Ozy did, the bastard.

I mean, I got it, but still, a dick thing to do when he knew damn well that she was in love with him.

He swore she would get over it, get over him, and all but forget he ever existed. She was young and had a whole life ahead of her.

God, he was so wrong.

I saw it every time I mentioned him, the way she flinched as if just the sound of his name physically pained her.

It made me want to repay the favor on his damn face.

I don’t think he expected her to really make it like she had, ‌either, and being here, it’s probably a lot harder to let go of his memory. To his credit, I never would have guessed she’d become the undefeated female champ here either. At first, she was lucky to finish a fight conscious.

Ozy asked me to look out for Zela; there wasn’t a Vixen back then. Now I worry there might be more Vixen than Zela left. He’d asked me to keep her safe, and while I did that physically, that might not have been enough.

Maybe Ozy isn’t the only one in need of an ass-whooping.

The urge to take her and run rides me as I try to even just get a peek at what her life is now. The house she and her father used to rent sits empty, and for a little while there, I was worried she was gone. She took her sweet time coming to The Pit, and I never thought to ask, but I don’t remember giving her the new location.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as I watch Vixen enter The Pit opposite Widow.

“Come on, kid, beat her annoying ass,” I whisper over the sounds of screams around me. People pack the place, up in the bleachers, looking down, or watching the screens that are all over the room for better angles.

It feels packed compared to the old building, but we're only at about half capacity. Next week's fight is sold out, and I can’t even imagine what that will look like, let alone sound like.

For the next half hour, I alternate between watching the fight and scanning the crowd to make sure everyone is behaving. Or behaving as well as a bunch of drunk, violence-seeking assholes can, at least. I don’t miss the nasty hit Vixen takes to the side of the head, and though I can’t hear them, I see Widow’s mouth flapping her usual BS with the opening in her mask.

“Come on, Vix, don’t let her get to you.”

It takes a little while, but she’s always been down for the long game; stamina is something she has always had, and eventually she learned to use that to her advantage.

Another ten minutes and Vixen has her on the mat, making the crowd lose their minds, deafening shouts and whistles, but as I look down at her, I know she doesn’t hear a bit of it, too lost in her thoughts.

I move through the crowd and shout to Warren, my second, giving him the signal that the pit is clear before I head after Zela.

If I didn’t need this job to keep an eye on her, I would have said fuck it. I saw her leave. Who cares about Widow…

Not me, that’s for sure.

If you ask me, Vix should have hit her harder, but whatever.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and usually I would ignore it. People rarely text me, and none of them are people I'd jump to talk to.

Until a few days ago, that is.

Zela's name lights up my screen, and try as I might, I can’t keep my lips from curling up in a smile as I read her message.

Took a hit, and I’m hungry. Aren’t you supposed to be here to make it all better, or did I scare you away?

Fuck, this girl is going to be the death of me.

She did take a hit, though, and while I should have kept it to myself, I hit send before I even really think it through.