Page 88 of Retaliation

With each passing moment, his determination seemed to intensify, fueled by a desire for vengeance that burned like an unstoppable raging inferno. He saw her as nothing more than a target, a means to an end in his quest for retribution.

Yet, despite the pain that gripped her, Poison refused to surrender to despair. Beneath the veneer of weakness, a defiant spark flickered within her, a refusal to yield to the darkness that threatened to consume her.

As she struggled to regain her footing, her body trembling with the effort, she felt the world tilt around her, a dizzying blur of pain and exhaustion threatening to consume her. Each step was a battle against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her, a relentless onslaught that left her gasping for breath.

With every wobbling step she took toward him, she tried to lift her chin, tried to face him with her head held high, no matter how futile it was. The pain, both physical and emotional, clawed at her, threatening to drag her down into the abyss.

But she refused to surrender to the darkness that threatened to consume her. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she lifted her head, straightening her spine in defiance .

And then, without warning, Scorpion struck with the force of an army, his shoulder slamming into her stomach with bone-crushing impact. The world spun around her as he lifted her into the air, her body suspended for a fleeting moment before crashing back down to the unforgiving ground below.

A searing wave of agony ripped through her as she felt the sickening crunch of bone beneath her spine, her arm snapping into pieces with a sound that echoed through the arena like a thunderclap. Darkness threatened to consume her as she lay sprawled upon the cold, hard ground, her body wracked with pain.

The gasps of the crowd echoed in her ears, a chorus of shock and horror that seemed to reverberate through her very soul. Yet within the chaos, a strange stillness descended upon her, a calm in the eye of the storm that enveloped her broken body in its embrace.

And then, just as she thought all hope was lost, something shifted within Scorpion’s eyes, a flicker of hesitation that stilled his hand. With his right knee between her legs and left foot pressing against her hip, he raised his fist into the air, poised to deliver the final, fatal blow that would bring with it the darkness and relief.

THIRTY ONE

Phillip stood over Poison, his heart pounding in his chest as he gazed down at her lifeless form. With a sickening, sinking feeling, his actions bore down upon him like a boulder dropping to the bottom of a well, the reality of what he had almost done sinking in with bone-chilling clarity.

As he looked into her still face, he saw the change in her eyes, a softening of her glare to one of awe and then to one of absolute horror. In that moment, something shifted within him, a realization that struck him like a bolt of lightning.

He couldn’t kill Poison. Not now, not ever. The thought of taking her life, the life of someone he loved, filled him with a profound sense of horror and disbelief. How had he not realized it before? How had he let things come to this?

In a daze, he stumbled backward, his blood-stained hands trembling as they hovered over his mouth. He felt as if he were drowning in a sea of guilt and regret, his mind reeling with the enormity of what he had almost done.

But one thing remained clear: he was in love with her. He had never felt this way about anyone before, never been so utterly captivated by another person. It was her confidence, her beauty, her very essence that drew him to her like she was the only magnet that could pull his cold, iron heart, igniting a fire within him that he had never known existed.

With a desperate plea, he kneeled beside her, his voice choked with emotion as he reached out to her lifeless form.

“Wake up, Poison,” he whispered, his words a prayer whispered into the void. “Please wake up. You have to wake up. Minke, please! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” His words turned into desperate pleas, tears stinging his eyes.

His begging turned to sobbing as the word please beated from his lips in a mantra.

But even as he spoke, he knew it was futile. He had crossed a line from which there was no return, a line that

he could never erase. And as he looked down at her, he knew that he would spend the rest of his days haunted by the memory of what he had done.

Dennis rushed into the ring, his hands trembling as he reached for Poison’s neck. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, every heartbeat echoing in the silence that enveloped them. Then, with a sigh of relief, Dennis spoke, his voice tinged with an unusual animation.

“I feel a pulse. She’s alive—but barely.”

The words pierced through the thick haze of shock that clouded Phillip’s mind. With a surge of urgency, he darted toward her, his heart pounding in his chest as he lifted her limp form into his arms. His voice, hollow and strained, escaped in a croak just above her head.

“I have to get her to the hospital.”

With her nestled against his shoulder, he moved toward the edge of the ring, his steps numbing. At the edge of the ring, he hesitated. He didn’t want to let go of her, but Gunnar held his arms out, ready to take her on the other side of the ropes. As he passed her over the ropes to him, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a fierce instinct to shield her from any threat that dared to come near. That included Gunnar, but he forced himself to let go of her, but only long enough to climb through the ropes.

Once on solid ground, Phillip reclaimed Poison in his arms, cradling her with a tenderness that belied the chaos that raged around them. With each step through the stunned crowd, he drew her closer to his chest as if, by sheer will alone, he could keep her safe from any further harm.

Kitiara met him at the entrance of the Temple, her face horror struck as she took in the state of Poison in his arms.

“Bring the car around,” she barked to the closest guard, and Phillip had never been more grateful for anyone. “Careful not to worsen her injuries,” she warned. “Keep her still and get her to a hospital.”

“Thank you.” That was all he managed to whisper to his friend, walking to the door.

He made it down two steps when Kitiara called out to him again, and he had to fight himself to force his muscles to turn back.

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