Page 60 of Faithless
“She’s not actually my wife, but yeah, the two of us are just regular folks from Four Corners.”
“Shit,” he breathed, eyes widening. “So, what, you’re here to like…free us?” He whispered the word so cautiously, like he didn’t dare believe it.
“That’s just the beginning. We want to find out who’s on top, funding all of this. This whole fucking business model is just sick, and we want to root it out for good.”
The Hunter’s jaw hardened. “Get us out. Burn this place until it’s nothing but a scar in the ground. Do what you came here for, and I’ll tell you about where I came from. I have a feeling I know who’s at least supplying fighters to this place.”
“That’ll help us a ton,” I said. “We want to stop it. This whole place has made my skin crawl since I set foot in here. It’s just…fucking inhumane.”
He continued to observe me coolly. “I haven’t been a gladiator long, but I’m pretty sure this is a big, complex machine that I’ve been a cog in for years. You won’t be the first to try putting an end to it. But I sure as fuck hope you’re the last.”
22
RORI
“No jaguar hanging out with us today?”
The Butcher chuckled, sending me a warm smile over his shoulder as he poured drinks for us at the minibar. “No, I think he’ll leave us alone today.”
“Aw, too bad.” I propped my elbow on the back of the couch. “He’s the whole reason I was excited to see you again so soon,” I joked.
By some fluke in the schedule, I’d been able to see the Butcher, er, Santos, again only two days after our first appointment. I was a lot less nervous this time, less conflicted about my feelings for Torr, who seemed hellbent on avoiding me for the past several days.
That was fine. I could at least spend time with someone who pretended to be interested in me.
Although Santos didn’t give me a lot of fake vibes. He, too, seemed warm and relaxed today. A nice change after he’d been so worried about being reported the first time we met. After his jaguar had showed up, we’d small-talked about mundane things until our time was up. There had been a little tension and awkwardness hanging between us then, but I didn’t feel any of it now. The nerves in my belly were solidly about spending time with a guy I was attracted to, and if things went in a physical direction, I just might let it happen.
“I can do my best jaguar impression if you want,” Santos said, coming around the couch with our drinks. “Crawl around on all fours, lick myself in unseemly places, stretch across your lap in hopes of head scratches.”
“Hmm, tempting. Your head does look very scratchable.” I accepted the whiskey from him. “Thank you.”
“If you ever need a scratching post, it’s there for you.” He settled on the couch next to me.
A laugh burst out of me. “Wait, amIpretending to be a jaguar now?”
“Hey, fair’s fair.” His smile and warm, dark gaze made me bashful to the point that I had to take a drink just to have a break from the intensity of his eye contact. “So, what have you been up to since we last hung out?”
Oh, nothing. Just being completely shut-out by the guy I’m in love with and thinking of you while I masturbate so I’m not focused on him.
“Not much,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “Going to the spa, breakfast at the cafe, dinner and drinks. The usual. You?”
The pause before he spoke stretched on long, giving me the sense he didn’t believe me, but he humored me enough not to address it. “The life of a gladiator is much more boring than that,” he said with a smirk. “It’s just eating, training, sleeping. Watching your back and preparing for your next fight.”
He didn’t mention his private time with other guests, which I was morbidly curious about. Nella hinted that he was popular, so how often was he in this room with other people, having sex with them? Did he have regulars that kept coming back?
I wanted to know everything, but couldn’t bring myself to ask. I asked Torr about his sex life all the time, at first thinking it would help me get over him. But my feelings never went away and hearing about what he did with others only hurt me more. Santos felt like the beginning of a crush, and I knew the end result would only be the same. Hurt and rejection that I’d only brought upon myself.
“How often do you fight?” I asked instead.
“It’s different for everyone, but since I’m a headliner that draws crowds, I’m out there once a month. Guys that are lesser-known, they’re tossed out there once a week sometimes.”
“Wow, doesn’t seem like a lot of recovery time.”
“It’s not, which is actually by design to weed out the weaker fighters. If you keep proving yourself, keep winning, you earn longer recovery times and little perks here and there.”
“A jaguar bodyguard seems like a hell of a perk,” I mused.
Santos laughed softly. “Yeah, they don’t exactly hand out kittens for us to bond with.”
