Trapped- Chapter 5

Under Pressure

                                                                                                                                         December 11

Ari woke up, face down in a pillow, gasping for breath and feeling like an idiot. His brilliant ploy to get another chance at Ivy backfired. He probably wouldn't have pulled anything, but still, he should have expected her to think the water was drugged...and maybe thought of a way to evade drinking it.
I'm such a dork. God.
Grunting, Ari looked down at his chest. Her tiny hand and whole right arm were pinned beneath his weight. She was lying on her back, her legs bent in an awkward position—she hadn't moved since he tackled her. His right arm was bent across her chest, his hand resting on her left shoulder—where he had pushed her. Sighing, Ari rolled off of her and into a sitting position, his feet dangling off the edge of the bed slightly. He knew that his little sip of Rohypnol only knocked him out for about four hours, where as she was down for the count for about eight. He still had time…
Ah, screw it. Ari didn't have the energy to do anything, and didn't really feel motivated. Plus, considering her fear of his Eraser side, her fear of his human side had to have intensified over night. He looked over his shoulder at her delicate face. As if on cue, her eyelids fluttered, she moaned, and murmured, "No… Please, no!"
For a moment, Ari had the strangest desire to cry. He never cried. But when he was very, very little, still completely human, he had been told the story of "Beauty and the Beast." Suddenly, Ari felt this strange compassion for the Beast. Ari's own bestiality was disturbing. He was a total human on the outside—even said to be decently attractive—but the lupine DNA that had been added to him had not only given him the ability to morph…it had penetrated his mind. Internally, Ari was disgusting. And he knew it.
Ari had been told that as he aged, the pain would go away. The pain of morphing, mostly, as well as a few other things. It was true for the most part. But the pain he felt when he hurt others… Corny as he knew it was, maybe he still had a conscience.
Hungry, Ari got to his feet. He looked around the room, hating it. It had been built just for him—almost like…a stereotypical bachelor's pad. It looked like the kind of room that belonged to someone with no friends. Like it belonged to someone who had girls coming every night. Someone who really had no life. The fridge in the corner was beckoning him. As Ari opened it, he realized that someone had restocked it during the night.
Ugh. I wish they'd stay out of here. Especially when I have a 'guest,' Ari thought. Then he realized that he sounded exactly like what he had just described and loathed to consider himself to be. He snarled and snatched a piece of cold pizza, devouring it quickly.
The tan leather chair in his living room called him, and he stomped over to it. It was cool, but comfortable.
Ari…what are you going to do with her? asked his Voice. Do you really think they're going to go for your plan?
"Get out of my head," Ari hissed. Ivy stirred on the bed across from him. "Look, if they don't like the whole 'I'm desperately lonely and could use some comfort' idea, I've got a backup plan." Rolling his eyes and experiencing a sudden burst of energy, Ari stood up and slunk down the hallway to his bathroom.
The bathroom was large and decadent, also giving Ari the sensation of being some ridiculous playboy. All marble, it contained a gigantic Jacuzzi bathtub, a glass door shower with ridiculous dimensions and about eight water jets, a solid vanity with an insanely shiny mirror, and a toilet stall. Not to mention, an MP3 system. Ari hated it. Too fancy, too industrial. The music was okay, but that was about it. Starting up the shower and popping on "Hell's Bells" by AC/DC, Ari smirked.
Ari… What's your so-called "backup plan"? said the Voice, androgynous and snarky as always.
"Simple," Ari said, stripping down and getting in the steamy water. "I give them what they want. A soldier."
"I'll give you black sensations up and down your spine/ If you're into evil, you're a friend of mine/ See my white light flashing as I split the night/ 'Cause if good's on the left, then I'm stickin' to the right…" *
*****
Sleep is weird when you're not sure if what you're dreaming is actually happening or not. I vaguely remember what I think I dreamed. Right after Ari tackled me, I fell backwards into the middle of a football game. Way off balance, I ended up at the bottom of a dog pile, and then realized I was holding the ball. I sank through the ground…and into the arms of men dressed in all black—I couldn't see their faces. They were dangling me over the edge of a cliff, and at the bottom, a snake pit. "No…Please, no!" I shouted at them as they let me fall. I couldn't scream. Just before I landed, I hit water… An octopus's tentacles replaced the snakes writhing bodies, and they pulled me down, deep beneath the surface. A shark suddenly arrived and chomped the tentacle around my waist, freeing me. I grabbed its dorsal fin, and it took me for a ride—in the wrong direction. Then it offered me an iPod that was playing a track by AC/DC. Confused, I lost my grip and drifted away onto a cloud. Suddenly, the cloud tried to strangle me. Writhing to evade its fluffy grip, I startled myself, and awoke to find that I was rolled up in the covers of Ari's bed.
Gasping, I detangled myself. My wings were still sore, as well as my arms (for some reason). Then I noticed a mass of…something pinning down the covers near my back. Panicking, and assuming it was Ari in bed beside me, I flipped over and slammed my elbow into—a pile of clothing. Women's clothing.
Yes! Finally, damnit. I pulled myself to a sitting position and picked up the clothes. On top of them lay a sheet of paper, with a note that read:
Good morning, Love!
Sorry I couldn't be there when you woke up—had to go deal with an issue. I will be back @ 10:00 to pick you up for a 'grand tour.' And, although I like the 'toga' look, I'd recommend you put on these clothes (or I'll have to put them on you). Figured you'd like green. Feel free to use the shower down the hall—I turned off the cameras, just for you.
—Tag, you're it,
Ari
I frowned at the letter. An issue? Grand tour? Toga? Cameras? Then I shook my head, picked up the clothes, crumpled up the letter, and shakily made my way down the hall to his bathroom.
His bathroom was bigger than any room I had ever 'owned.' The marble was so clean that I could see my dirty reflection in the walls. Not to mention, the one, huge mirror was as shiny as a ray of sun, and hung over a large, masculine vanity built into the marble walls. There was a bathtub, which I would have jumped for the opportunity to use, had Ari not mentioned cameras at all. Even though he was probably just trying to freak me out. Instead, I did angle towards the humongous, glass door shower and removed my 'toga.' It took me a minute to figure out how to turn on the shower, but then I managed. I can't even begin to tell you how good the water felt. I found a loofah that appeared to be set-aside for me next to a set of bottles—mint scented shampoo, conditioner, and shower gel.
How did Ari know I liked mint?
The only bad part of that shower was cleaning my wings. Luckily, I noticed that the width of the shower seemed to have been designed for someone with wings (or a very big party), so that they could open them—perfect. Clean, only with water, my wings felt sufficiently better, but as I inspected them, I noticed a lot of missing feathers. The skin beneath was raw and reddish, stripped down by duct tape.
Feeling strangely angry at the world, I dressed in the clothes he had left me. Low-rise yoga pants—black, with a fold over waistband—and a green exercise camisole with a ruched bust, pinstriped bodice, and built in bra. As I pulled it on, my wings slipped smoothly through the straps and folded over the shirt—a good fit. Nice of him to leave me underwear, I thought. They were green as well.
Finding a brush, I worked through the rat nests in my hair, revealing decently smooth but messy (in a way) blonde hair. I attacked it with a towel until it was mostly dry—only the tips were still wet—and then flipped it back. All in all, I felt like a new model for some ridiculously expensive new exercise line.
After a minute, I heard a huge, terrifying growl. Jumping, I realized it was my stomach. How long had it been since I'd eaten? Too long. I made my way back down the hall towards the bedroom. Then I quickly peeked at the door, saw that it was still closed tightly, and dashed to the little fridge. Pulling it open, I found—nothing.
"Damn!" I shouted, slamming the door shut and then kicking the fridge. My stomach rumbled like a thunderstorm, and I swore further.
"Hungry?" said a voice behind me. I jumped, spinning around. Ari was standing in the doorframe, staring at me. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. We were both silent, but then I caught a whiff of…meat. My mouth started to water, and my stomach made this ridiculous gurgling sound. Ari laughed out loud, closing the door behind him as he came in. "I'll take that as a yes." He seemed to realize that I thought he was carrying food on him somewhere—maybe by the fact that I was standing within three feet of him voluntarily, and sniffing at the air like a wild animal—because he spoke up and said, "Ready to go? They have food in the cafeteria, Babe. Sadly, they don't keep my pockets stocked, so don't try to rob me of what I don't have." He grinned at me as I sighed audibly. "C'mon. You'll like the cafeteria."
Scowling and terribly silent, I followed him out of the room and down a stark hallway, my feet bare. For some reason, I made myself believe that not talking would cause Ari to loose interest in me… I was an idiot. Instead, he paid more attention.
"So, how was your morning?" he asked cheerfully, walking next to me. I looked up at him, narrowed my eyes, and looked back away. No sound but the padding of my feet. "So it was good? That's good. Mine was good, too. Did you enjoy the shower?" he said, as if I were part of the conversation. He was staring at me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, onto my face—like a wildfire. I was going to blow soon if he didn't shut up.
I still refused to answer, but my stomach spoke up. Guuuurrrrrrrrrrrggggllle.
Ari laughed. "We're almost to the cafeteria. When you're done eating, I'll show you around a little more, okay? Turn left here." I did so, staring straight ahead. "So I'm guessing you didn't like the shower? Maybe it would have been better if I stayed and shared it with you… I just didn't want you to feel like you needed a supervisor." He smirked. No supervisor? Wasn't I a prisoner? "You smell nice… and I like this outfit on you. I'm glad I took the time this morning to steal something decent. Is it comfortable? Actually, I don't care. I like it. Y'know, don't think I got a good-morning kiss, Poppet. Did I? Help me remember?"
At the word 'Poppet,' I lost it. Aside from the context, I had encountered only one other person in my life that was brave enough to call me 'Poppet.' He had been trying to woo me in order to prevent me from robbing him of a huge stack of $100 bills (on commission for a very discreet client, of course). As he spoke to me, he promised me more money, a home, and anything I could want from him, if I were to do one private little thing with him and leave him be. He called me 'Poppet.' I believe last I heard, he was still in a coma with two broken limbs, and no one in his family had yet to find any of his possessions.
So, yeah, I can be brutal.
"God damnit, would you shut up?!" I screamed, turning on him in the middle of an intersection in the hallways. "Why are you so freaking obnoxious? You know what, fine. Fine! My morning was terrible, 'cause I woke up in someone else's bed, with no memory of the past two nights—and no one was there to explain jack. I don't care if your morning was good, bad, or ugly. The shower was fine, and I don't ever want to share anything with you! Yes, the clothes are comfortable; especially considering they're the first real clothes anyone's given me in…in what, two days? I've had better treatment in homeless shelters! No! I'm not giving you a 'good-morning kiss,' and I'll never kiss you of my own free will. And if you ever call me 'Poppet' again, I swear to some higher power that I will kick your ass from here to next week!" I stopped to catch my breath. I probably would have continued cussing him out and jabbing him in the chest with my finger if he hadn't been…laughing.
Ari stared at me, waiting for me to finish, but as I got closer to the end of my rant, his sly smile turned more and more into a sneer. Finally, he just busted up, doubling over a little. "Wow, Shorty. You've got a mouth. Pretty cute one, no less…" he joked, and then cracked up again. I couldn't help it. He wasn't looking, so I pulled back my fist. Just as my punch shot out, he looked up and blocked my arm to the side, throwing me off balance so that I spun on my heel before falling backwards…right into Ari's arms. "Careful, Toots. You might hurt yourself." He was still chuckling—I could feel it. His arms were wrapped around my waist, my arms trapped beneath his.
"Let go," I snarled through my teeth.
"Hmm… no," Ari murmured in my ear.
"Let go of me right now or I swear to God, I will—" I threatened. The rest of it was the best part—involved a cactus and a skyscraper—but I was unable to finish because something covered my mouth.
It took me a few seconds to figure out that it was Ari's lips, silencing me.
*****
Free will was unnecessary.
Ari held her tightly, pressed up against him. He could feel her every movement—like when she realized he was kissing her and not gagging her. And when she started struggling against him. It was cute—like she could keep him from getting what he wanted! Ha! Ari's body curved around her, his arms wrapped tightly, his neck and head titled down, over her shoulder, and around to her face awkwardly. The awkwardness for him was totally worth it. She was delicious, and he could have kissed her for hours.
Hearing wolf whistles, Ari became aware of the presence of a couple other Erasers in the hallway intersection. The whistling and constant shouts of, "Dude! Get some!" made Ari's blood boil with pressure. But he kind of enjoyed it—it was an expectation he had to live up to. He kissed harder.
Recognizing Ari's sudden conviction—and obviously feeling pressure as well—Ivy struggled harder. She was slipping away. With no hesitation and no warning, Ari spun her out of his arms and up against a wall. Before she realized what had happened, Ari had leaned against her and was kissing her again, only less awkwardly.
"Damn," said an Eraser. "Look at them go!"
It was probably at that point that Ivy just completely lost it.
Ari was too caught up in her mouth to pay much attention to her knees. That is, until one of them flew up between his legs. Startled and, of course, in pain, Ari's arms flew away from Ivy and he jolted backwards, slamming into a wall. He swore, wincing. Forcing his eyes open, despite their sudden wateriness, Ari spotted Ivy across from him, her hands balled tightly into fists, her eyes practically shooting flames. Despite the slowly fading pain, Ari couldn't help but smirk at her. Ivy's fiery passion was just so damn amusing.
An Eraser rushed at Ivy as she stomped towards Ari, ready to fight. The idiot stood in front of her, like she would say, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll back off due to your immense size." Instead, before the Eraser could do anything, Ivy threw a ridiculous right hook that smashed the Eraser's nose sideways, spurting blood.
"She broke my nose! Holy… God damnit, you little—" he started cupping his face in his hands. As he began to go after her, Ivy spun quickly and shot her leg up into the air. As she turned, her heel caught the side of the Eraser's head with a dull thud, and he fell to the ground, silent. Confused, a different Eraser rushed her, not thinking. As he came closer, clumsily running, Ivy put her right foot in his stomach, grabbed his shirt lapels, and rolled backwards, launching him over her—he flew a couple of feet and then face planted the wall.
Ari watched, amused. Two down in less than 60 seconds. There was one remaining Eraser, but this one was a little smarter—tried to talk things out.
"Look, Sweetheart," he started, putting his hands up in front of him as if to soothe the savage beast. "Maybe you should just… stand down… a little?"
Snarling, Ivy stomped towards him, and grabbed his hair before he noticed her so close. "I'm not your sweet anything!" she shouted, pulling his head down, wrapping her arm around his neck, and then pulling tightly. Ari watched her take one very heavy blow to the head from the Eraser's fist, but she maintained a strong grasp, and choked him until he fainted. Then she released him—he flopped to the ground.  
"I sure hope they caught all of that on film—I don't think anyone believed me when I told them you could fight," Ari joked. Despite his jovial words, he was definitely in pain, and beneath the pain he could feel a building anger. He wanted to hit her, and the way she kept approaching led him to believe that he was about to. Her hands were clenching and unclenching slightly, her glare was like poison. Poison Ivy. Ari snickered, standing up straight but still leaning against the wall and wincing slightly. "You're gonna fit in perfectly around here," he murmured.
With one quick stride, she was standing in front of him, her hand balled up in the front of his shirt. She pushed him back against the wall, which he hadn't expected, and his head smashed it violently. Using the whiplash of the bounce of his head, she pulled him forward, close to her face.
"Damn," Ari snarled, dazed. He wasn't having a very good day so far. "You sure know how to—"
Ivy growled, "Shut up. I'm sick of your mouth and what comes out of it. Give me anymore of this 'Poppet-enjoy-the-shower-and-gimme-a-kiss?' crap and I'm going to break your mouth. Sound fair?" She yanked his shirt, jerking him around.
Ari laughed in her face. "Yes, of course… Poppet."
"Argh!" Ivy growled. She pulled back her fist and slammed him in the face, still holding his shirt. Ari blinked, but he was stronger than she thought. He shook his head a little and then smiled at her. "Damn you for being so incorrigible!" As she snarled, Ari snapped out his fist straight into her stomach. He knew she wasn't expecting it, and so she released his shirt, stepping back. Coughing, she put up her fists, but it was too late. Ari had spun her around, tackled her, and pinned her down on the ground by sitting on her. Before she had time to do anything, Ari grabbed her wrists, jerked them roughly behind her back, and held them there with one hand. Shaking his head and laughing, he leaned over to one of the unconscious Eraser bodies and pulled a pair of handcuffs off of his belt.
"Did I mention that I love being on top of you?" Ari joked, cuffing her.
"Did I mention how much I hate you?" she growled in response, face down on the linoleum.
Ari smirked. "Ooh… Strong words." He stood, then reached down and pulled her to her feet easily. She stumbled a little, but then stood tall and proud. "You look hungry."
*****
We left the bodies of the three unconscious men in the hallway. I was slightly confused at how easily Ari seemed to move on. Obviously, I didn't understand how he connected to anyone, but it still seemed odd to just leave behind his… comrades?
Sadly, my little "break your mouth" pep talk had rolled off of Ari like water off a duck. I felt like I had been pretty convincing, and I was serious about beating him up. And yet here he was, jovially making small talk about what the cafeteria offered.
Did he really think I gave a crap about the delicious steak they offered? My stomach growled, but I could hardly enjoy dreaming about food when I had other things on my mind…
Things like… Like that kiss. What was that all about? And by the way, EWW. Talk about disturbing. The way he held me… And that whole peer pressure thing—he seemed to gain more interest once his friends showed up. It was all just so… Ugh.
Or at least that's what I told myself. I believed it too, for the most part. But there was some tiny part of me that wanted Ari, in a very twisted "I would rather rip of your head than kiss you…but since I can't really rip off your head" way. And that was what disturbed me most.
When we reached the cafeteria, Ari led me into line. My wrists were starting to sting from the cuffs, but when I looked around, I forgot about everything. The "cafeteria" was about the size of a ridiculously large gym. The whole room, besides the main lines, was filled with bench style tables, and probably seated close to 400 people. Currently, it looked pretty empty. My eyes were huge, but then I turned and looked at the food. The first area of food was devoted completely to meat.
Now, I may not have emphasized this enough already, but I love meat. I'm a total carnivore, despite the fact that I'd eat almost anything to survive.
I was so caught up in the scents and visions of meat of every kind that I didn't even hear Ari talking to me.
"Ivy. Here you go," he repeated. I jumped and looked down at his hands—he was holding out a solid plastic tray. I stared at it, and then at him. "It's for your food, Babe." He smirked at me like I was slow.
"As much as I really want to take that and fill it with food…" I turned my back to him. "My hands are 'kinda tied up.'"
"Oh, forgot about that. Now, I'll take them off if you promise me something," Ari began. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was reaching into his pants to get the key, but his eyes were all over me. I got goose bumps and glared at him.
"If you want me to promise to—"
"No, not that. Not yet." He winked. "Just promise me that you won't try to run, fight, or hit me. My face is almost sore."
I sighed. Details. "I promise not to run, fight, or hit you—unless someone attacks me, looks at me like I'm dessert, or calls me anything." Ari shook his head.
"I can't really control all of those things, but I suppose that's a start." He pulled up against him and removed my shackles. I turned around, rubbing my wrists, to see Ari staring at the handcuffs. He cocked his head. "Y'know what? I'm hanging on to these." He pocketed them. "Might be…useful."
Rolling my eyes, I picked up the tray.
Minutes later, we were seated at our own little section of one of the long benches. I found it entertaining and angering that many of the young men started to flock towards us and seat themselves in positions that allowed them to stare at me with nothing interrupting the view. I looked at Ari once, and he had a ridiculous grin on his face. Scowling, I returned to my food—and what a feast it was. I hadn't been allowed this much food in weeks, and the last time was when I crashed a corporate company dinner party. The plastic tray was filled with delicious roast beef, a hamburger, two hot dogs, a chicken salad, a slice of pizza, and a few small side dishes. Still feeling groggy, I had snatched a humongous cup of coffee.
It was safe to say that I was acting like a pig—and I couldn't care less. In fact, it was very satisfying to watch all of my admirers' confusion at my ability to down so much food. It wasn't my intention, but by the time I had finished about ¾ of the food, I had Ari laughing so hard he had to put down his sandwich.
"Do you always eat this much?" asked one of the men across the table. He looked like someone was pulling a prank on him. I took a deep breath and finished chewing the bite of hot dog I had just taken.
"No."
"So… Why are you eating so much now?"
"'Cause I can," I replied, narrowing my eyes and taking another gigantic bite of hot dog.
After I finished eating, Ari showed me where to take my tray. Then, he spoke up. "Alright—I promised a little bit more of a tour. Will you keep up your promise of no running, no fighting, no hitting Ari?" I nodded. "Alright. Then no handcuffs."
The tour was pretty small. Ari didn't really show me that much—mostly just told me what all the important rooms were (like sharing his world would win my trust); for instance, the surveillance room, the sauna, and the training room. He led me into the latter, telling me that it was one of the rooms I would spend a lot of time in.
Yet again, it was one of those oversized rooms. I had been to a high school before—out of pure curiosity—and had wandered into a wrestling room. This reminded me very much of that. The walls and floor were completely covered in pads, and there were a few raised areas—I assumed they were supposed to be fighting arenas. In one corner, there was a numerous amount of punching bags in all shapes and sizes. In another corner, there was a door. "That leads to the locker rooms," Ari murmured. I nodded and then wandered away from Ari, further into the room. I had been too caught up in the layout of the room to consider the people in it. There were fights going on everywhere, but it appeared that everyone's attention was focused on one specific battle between a very burly guy, and an average looking man.
Burly was winning. By a lot. I could only see a few scrapes on him, but the average guy—who was about Ari's size—was shredded, had a black eye, and was sporting so many bruises that they were impossible to count. Not to mention, he was stumbling like a drunken man. Seconds later, average guy was on his back, wailing like a baby as the buff guy wailed on him. No one was helping the average guy. They were all standing around and watching the young man get the snot beat out of him. His blood was everywhere.
"Hey!" I shouted, forgetting completely that these guys were holding me captive. I couldn't watch the underdog get pounded. "Stop!" Before anyone could stop me, I had dashed over and jumped up on the platform, stepping in between the two men. "What are you doing?" I shouted at the burly guy.
"Winning," he said, shrugging. Then he slipped past me, picked up the young guy by his shredded shirt collar, and tossed him off of the platform. He landed on his arm with a sickening crunch, but by that point he was unconscious. I turned away from him and looked at Burly, whom had a fist pumped into the air. Without hesitating, I clocked him in the jaw. Caught completely off guard, he fell backwards and landed on his ass.
"You're so retarded! It was pretty obvious he wasn't getting back up when he fell the first time. Why did you keep hitting him?"
"Man, you don't have any idea what you just did, do you?" said a voice from the crowd. I looked down from the platform and spotted Ari, still smirking.
Burly jumped back up. As I watched him, I realized one thing—he was slow. "Why shouldn't I have kept hitting him, little one?" he asked, cracking his neck. My eyes narrowed. What a jerk!
"Because he was screaming! And already down! Plus, he's tiny in comparison. Pick on someone your own size!" I hissed.
"Problem is, there isn't anyone my size. But you've got a pretty big self-image; maybe you want to try and fight me?" Burly cracked up at that idea. So did almost everyone else in the room. And at the laughter, I decided.
Ari jumped up next to me, grabbing my arm. "No," he whispered. "You can't win."
"What, Ari? You've given up on her already? Or is she only good for…other things?" He winked.
Ari sneered. "She's good for anything and everything…" he trailed, sliding an arm down my hipbone. Don't hit. Damnit. "However, she's just come down from severe hypothermia and I've worn her out pretty well the past few nights. Don't think she's physically capable of this kind of 'training' right now."
"By the expression on her dainty little face, I'd say she is." I looked to my left—a different man had spoken up.
"Yeah, Ari. Let her learn." Another man.
Damn Ari for caving in to peer pressure. "Fine. If she thinks she can go a round or two, she can give it a shot." Then he looked at me. "Don't come crying to me when you look like him," Ari finished, jerking a thumb at the unconscious man on the ground. Then he leaned in very close to me, and whispered in my ear, "If it gets too rough, I'll step in. Sorry, Sweetheart, but they'll only respect you if you can prove you're more than a toy." He winked at me, and then jumped off of the platform.
My mouth was open in a little "O" of surprise. They were actually going to make me fight this scag. And based on his size and generally obvious ability to fight, I knew I was going to loose.
"God damnit…" I murmured. Make the first move. Trusting my instincts, I leapt forward, faking with my right arm extended. Burly threw his arms up to block his face, and therefore didn't realize it was a fake. My right leg snapped out as well; a perfect sidekick landed firmly against his rib cage. He stepped back, surprised, but it was obvious—that was going to be the last time I tricked him. I took a deep breath, took a step back, and put up my fists. He mirrored me, and then ran straight at me, throwing a punch. I managed to duck and dodge the first punch, but the second hit me right in the neck. I flopped backwards, landing on the ground, gagging and gasping.
"This is too easy," he said, walking up to me. Before he could get close enough, I whipped myself back, and then slingshot myself forward, executing a nice kip that allowed me to kick him in the face before landing on my feet.
"Don't give up on me yet!" I shouted mockingly over the yelling of all of the men in the room. Jumping to the side to avoid a kick, I remembered—Burly was slow. I was fast. My arm shot out and I grabbed his ankle, then I turned 90 degrees so his leg was parallel to my body, and I swung my arm around in a circle, slamming my bent elbow into his tibia. Basically, I shattered his "shin bone" where it connected to his foot. He howled, and lashed out, grabbing the collar of my low cut tank top. Unhesitating, I re-grabbed his hand, and then spun quickly to my right, so that I rolled against the natural bend of his elbow. When in doubt, push things the way they aren't supposed to go. It always causes a chain reaction.
His hand unclenched from my shirt, but as I spun, so did he—in the opposite direction. Resembling a whirling dervish as he twirled on his uninjured ankle, he swung his arm heavily into my gut. I stumbled backwards, and was unable to dodge his next desperate attack. His open hand, curved like a claw, scraped across my bare shoulder, and blood started to ooze slowly. I threw myself to the side, rolled across the floor behind him, and then jumped to my feet. As I turned to face him again, I slipped. My feet flew out from under me, and I landed heavily on my wings. Tears filled my eyes instantly and my head spun. Then I realized why I had slipped—I had stepped in a pool of the currently unconscious young man's blood.
For some reason, my body locked up. Before I had realized that I could move, Burly was kneeling above me, one knee on either side of my hips.
"Put up a pretty good fight," he said. "Too bad Ari insists on keeping you to himself." My head rolled to the side as I started to cry.
I might as well give up.
Then I realized something. I had already noticed that all of the men were cheering… But I had failed to pick up on one thing. They were cheering for me!
Usually when I fight, it's because I've been told to. Or paid to. Or I'm fighting to make a point. This was one of those very rare occasions where I was fighting for me, myself, and I. And all of a sudden, I was really damn angry.
Screaming, I popped my hips up with no warning. Burly fell forward, but he fell slowly enough that I managed to get my leg bent between the two of us, planting my foot firmly against his sternum. Using his momentum, I straightened my leg and shot him straight over me. He apparently didn't know how to land from a classic "tome nage throw," so he pretty much landed on his head and then collapsed on his back. I jumped to my feet and dashed over to him.
"How about that for 'big self-image'?" I shouted. "How do you like it?" I reached down, grabbed his arm, and pulled it up so it created a right angle with his body. Then I took my right foot, placed it on his shoulder, and pushed down. Quickly, I yanked hard on his arm and heard a satisfying "pop" as his shoulder dislocated. He yelped, and I dropped his arm. It flopped uselessly on the ground, and he rolled onto his side to cover his injuries.
Suddenly, I realized that the training room had gone silent. I straightened up and looked around. They were all staring at me; eyes wide, mouths open in shock.
Silent as a wraith, I slipped down off of the platform and found my way to Ari. And then someone clapped. Out of the blue, destroying the quiet, they all started clapping. My eyes widened.
"Yo, Ari! I like this one!" someone crowed. "What's her name?"
Ari grinned, and suddenly I felt like arm candy. Only, arm candy in a bloodstained green tank top and yoga pants. "Ivy." Then he slid his hand down my arm and grabbed my wrist. "On with the tour?" he whispered. I nodded, feeling suddenly claustrophobic and thankful of his weird ability to seemingly read my mind.
He pulled me through the crowd, and I could feel a weird pressure coming off of them. What was that? The back of my neck prickled.
"Hey, Ivy!" someone shouted. I looked over my shoulder, just in time to see Burly swing a medicine ball into my face.
And then—just my luck—I blacked out yet again.