Page 47 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

“Yep, fight night.”

Case gives me a look; he was too busy hanging out with her today to be there when it was decided.

Jolie snorts and shakes her head. “Could you be any more cliché? I mean, really, big bad teenage boys and illegal fighting?”

“Not just guys, Petal.” Shit.

Her face goes white, but she quickly shakes it off. She must have remembered. I used to always call her Petal. The other guys called her Wildflower, but to me she was always the most precious thing, delicate like a flower petal.

“I left an outfit by the stairs. Go get changed.”

“Fine, mostly because I want to see Boston get his ass handed to him.”

“That won’t happen. Those guys who got the better of us had a lot of back-up, but tonight it’s one on one, and you will really see what we are made of.”

Her face drops and she huffs, walking away.

“What the fuck?” Case snaps at me. “Why is she coming? You know everyone that shows up has to fight, and she isn’t ready.”

“How do we know that? If she is rogue, then she will know how to fight,” I mutter, shrugging my shoulders.

“And if she doesn’t?” he asks.

“Then we know.” I refuse to mention that Laughn is pissed; being afraid of Boston is one thing, but when Laughn gets mad, it isn’t a pretty sight.

“And we couldn’t wait for the DNA testing? She’s going with Boston to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Everyone is getting antsy, and I have a feeling Jolie isn’t going anywhere. No matter what, she is our Sixth, and we need to do whatever it takes to make sure she isn’t dead weight.”

“She doesn’t know anything.” He reiterates what Davis already told us.

“How can you be so sure? She just recognised me calling her Petal.”

“Seriously?” Case flashes me a sceptical look.

“I might not be as good as Davis at reading people, but we all had the same fucking training. It was a split second of recognition, but it was there.”

“Let’s just get this done,” he says with finality, clearly finished with this conversation.

Everyone arrives at the training facility at eight p.m. sharp; being late when summoned is not an option. I was so stoned once, I was five minutes late, and as a consequence, I spent five days in intense training. I especially loved the Taser training; pissing my pants and having to wear them until they were done with me was an amazing bonding experience for me and the handlers. Laughn, the ass, is immune to being tased and just laughs when they try. Some bullshit about the voltage of the Taser being too close to the electrical impulses in his body.

Laughn is hand in hand with Jolie as she takes in the training facility. “Why is everyone in uniform?” she asks, noting how we all are wearing the same style pants, polo shirts with the G.O.D.S insignia, and boots. Mr Z likes order and obedience.

Speaking of the devil, he walks through the door of the facility and heads our way. Our creator, the great mind behind the G.O.D.S. We are his vision come to life. All his teams are hand-picked. Anyone he deems not good enough is adopted out. But us, we were made in a damn test tube, created to be better, stronger, smarter. Weapons.

“Ready to fight?” he asks Boston, who just nods his head in return.

“I’m out for blood,” Laughn hisses.

Yep, he is definitely pissed off.

“Good. It will make for an interesting fight—just don’t kill anyone, Laughn.”

Laughn chuckles and nods; he won’t do anything stupid. None of us will. Maybe it’s like Stockholm syndrome or some shit. We could all run while on the outside, but no one does. We enjoy the freedom, but we will undoubtably fall in line when called upon. It’s what we are trained to do, like good little soldiers.

Jolie scans her surroundings intently; the whole place has been transformed into what outsiders would think looks like a fight night.

The first fighters from the weaker teams are starting, and Jolie pulls Laughn with her to get a closer look. I don’t miss the other teams whispering. They all know what happened—shit, half of them attended her damn funeral.

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