Page 12 of The Game

Bolting down the right-hand side of the wall, I ducked into a deep doorway, breathing hard in the shadowy space that temporarily concealed me. I wouldn’t be safe here for long, but my legs wouldn’t take me further.

Banding my arms around my knees, I tucked my head down and shook. I couldn’t avoid hearing the fights. The chasing. The shouts.

I was a fool to think I was out of it.

Opening my eyes, I peered out.

My view of the basement arena reduced to a narrow slice. In it, the contestant who hadn’t hung out with us in the changing room jumped down from somewhere high then stopped dead. She had her focus on a person out of sight round the curve of the wall, she paced backwards, toe to heel, never taking her eyes off whoever she could see.

A man came into sight. He shoved a shock of dark hair from his eyes then extended his hand. “Stop,” he crooned.

She kept moving, her nostrils flaring.

“I’ve got you now. I’m claiming you as mine,” the guy bit out.

“Prove yourself,” she snarled back.

Despite her tone, despite the circumstances, I somehow knew she was interested. She straightened to bring her shoulders back and her chest out. Her eyes gleamed.

Her suitor, for want of a better word, tugged down his mask to reveal a warm, appreciative smile. He was handsome, in a boy-next-door kind of way. They fitted each other’s vibe.

A heavy thudding preceded another man running in. With a gasp, he threw himself at the suitor. “I’m going to have her. Get the fuck away.”

The two tumbled to the concrete in a whir of fists flying. It was obvious which the woman wanted. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth, gaze glued to the dark-haired man. When he took a hit, she jerked. When they rolled her way, she threw a punch of her own to a growl of approval from her man.

In a flash of understanding, I got it. They didn’t know each other. They didn’t know anything about each other. All they had was a millisecond of attraction, and it was enough for them to draw blood in want of the other.

It didn’t make me want to try, though. Just for this to be over. Except it couldn’t be. Not until every one of us was caught.

An abrupt cry of ecstasy rent the air, followed by the distinctive sound of sex, coming from back the way I’d run. A man grunted, and a woman moaned in a long undulation. They were…fucking. I made myself voice the word. One of the women had been claimed. Oh God. Someone else whimpered in pleasure as if enjoying their show, and another howled in unmistakable defeat.

Something cracking brought my attention back to the trio closer to me. The dark-haired man rolled off his opponent and jumped to his feet. The man didn’t move. The crack had been a bone breaking, I was almost certain.

Frantically, I skimmed my gaze over the fallen man, cataloguing him as only a medic could. He was breathing, that was one thing. His limbs were straight. Probably his ribs I’d heard break then.

“Mine,” the dark-haired man yelled.

He backed the woman to the wall. I jumped my attention to them. With a bloodied hand, he grasped the front of her shirt and tore it straight down the middle, displaying her bare breasts.

Her chest heaved. She put her palms flat on the painted breeze blocks at her back, peering up at him with such emotion in her eyes it caught me in shock.

He didn’t waste time or further words. He opened his jeans and freed his erection. Then he tugged up her miniskirt to an indecent level, cupped her backside, and lifted her into his arms, guiding her legs around his waist. His body concealed hers now. Only her arms and legs around him and a glimpse of her rapt expression were visible when he adjusted his position to fit himself to her entrance and jerked his hips to seal the deal.

Claimed.

Another couple matched up, and happily so.

Seconds later, a thunder of steps brought two other men bearing down on them. One skinny with a scraggly beard peeking out from under his skeleton bandanna, the other a huge beast of a man who threatened Malachi for size. They shouted in anger when they realised the deal was done.

In my hiding space, I shivered and shrank in on myself, a tear overspilling and rolling down my cheek. Not only for the fear of the night, but also because of a surprising degree of envy as well. Oh, to be that woman. To be so sure of the man who’d caught her. To want this.

He drove in and out of her, both tucking their heads against the other. Unlike the other couple, they didn’t howl and scream. I was close enough to hear the act but also their quiet words.

“I already love you,” the man said. “Tell me your name. I’m Jacob.”

“Peonie. I love you, too.”

How could they say that? I found it hard to understand, yet at the same time believed them. Or I believed they would make it so by saying that every day for a month while exploring the other’s body.

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