Page 80 of Light in Your Eyes
Layla Hayes is my undoing.
The thought rings in my head repeatedly. It doesn't leave my mind, not when I have to train my fighters the day after the incident in the kitchen.
It’s not the fact that someone was trying to kill me that consumes my mind. It’s Layla. She’s just as close to the danger, and it makes me restless. I can’t help but think that the culprit was also targeting her.
I'm now standing in the boxing ring again, but tonight, the basement is filled with people. The crowd roar, shout, and talk madly.
People have gathered to watch me fighting with the chosen members of Black Wings. I can hear some of them placing their bets on who's going to beat me. The ones who did place that stupid bet must be new because anyone else must have seen that no one has ever beaten me in a one-on-one fight.
My chest rises and falls as I wait for the next challenger.The crowd goes louder as I feel the person climbing up the ring. I take a large gulp of my drink and face him.
I catch the sound of his breath and the weight of his feet touching the ground. This one doesn't feel huge or bulky, but he doesn't feel small either. He's average, but he definitely has a temper because he’s panting in rage.
His nostrils flare like a bull, and I don’t know why he’s like that. It’s usually the other way around when it comes to fighting with me. I’m usually the angry one.
Yet, after Layla came around, everything changed. I’m not the same person anymore. The happiness that I thought was long gone sips back into my soul. I never felt this whole.
But then, it also feels so overwhelming that I can’t help but fear that when I wake up, it will only be just a dream.
A guy shouts to indicate the start of the battle, and just as I expected, my opponent storms at me like a madman. His movement is fast, but I’m faster—the result of my never-ending practices all over the years. Martial arts is my therapy, and my other senses are five times better than a normal person. Anyone who picked a fight with me would be a fool if they thought that they could beat me.
I duck his attack just when his fist is about to make contact with the side of my head. I use that split second to get low and kick his feet, causing him to fall with a loud thud on the ground.
The crowd roars, and I hear a guy shouting a curse at my opponent. It’s not unusual for the audience to go barbaric when they watch the fight. They enjoy the violence, and sometimes their emotions take over.
I’m just glad that Layla isn’t here to watch the fight. Idon't like the idea of her standing in the crowd. It’s not only the fight that is brutal but also the audience.
Honestly, I don’t like the whole idea of her being here in Black Wings, no matter how much her existence makes me crave her emotionally like an addict. Layla and danger are not supposed to be in the same place.
The guy gets up after I kick him down. I know from his breath that he’s getting even angrier. He storms at me again, and this time the tips of his fingers almost graze my neck. My adrenaline instantly rushes, and my eyes widen in shock. This guy is planning to choke me to death while pushing me against the ropes at the side of the ring.
Before he can wrap his hands around my neck, I slip under his arm and get behind him. I kick his back so hard, he’s thrown forward against the ropes of the ring.
The crowd roars again as I pant. Something is wrong with this. Something is fishy about this guy.
He attacked me like he wanted to kill me, literally kill me.
The force I used to kick him against the rope should have knocked him out, but I am face to face with his wrath again. I can feel his piercing gaze on me when his body turns to me again, but I’m not going to give him any chance. I will fucking end this fight now.
It’s actually good for their practice session that a member is being so persistent in defeating me, but my gut tells me that there’s something wrong with this guy.
Before he can regain balance to storm at me again, I do it first. Our speed makes us meet each other halfway in the center of the ring, but since he’s still unstable from my attack, he’s not fast enough to dodge my punch into hisface.
I hear a loud crack as his jaw breaks. The crowd cheers, almost making me deaf. My opponent falls again to the ground.
My jaw is clenched tightly, and my breathing is hard and fast.
To everyone’s horror, he’s still trying to get up. Loud gasps echo inside the basement, and I can even feel my heart rate kick up a notch.
He wants me down that badly, and I wonder who the fuck he is.
I lower myself to the ground to give him the final blow, but then the next thing I feel is pain stabbing my upper arm. I groan loudly while the crowd echoes loud gasps and curses.
He fucking stabbed me with a knife.
I hiss in pain. No one has ever stabbed me. I don’t know what made him dare do it. Weapons are never allowed in every fight with me.
He could have stabbed me in my heart, but the position when I was about to give him the final blow—with my thighs trapping the sides of his stomach and my arms caging him—he could only aim the knife at the flesh of my arm.
