Losing Nuka (Litmus Book 1) (14 page)

He towers over me. “Seriously impressed,” he says, offering up his hand for me to fist bump.

As I return the gesture, we’re met with applause and cheering from those watching.

Steve puts his arm around my shoulders, nodding and waving to the crowd. We’re both in relatively good shape considering we just bashed the crap out of each other. My left side is tender, and I can tell my face will be bruised again. My lip is still bleeding and my head is pounding, but I look at the bright side—I didn’t pass out.

“Uh, you can let me go now. I’m not going to fall or anything,” I tell Steve.

He laughs. “What makes you think I’m trying to hold
you
up?”

“Oh.” I laugh back. 

“Good job,” Brett says, joining us on stage.

“You’ve trained her well,” Steve says to Brett before looking at me. “And next time, I won’t go so easy.” He kisses the top of my head, leaves the stage, and starts heading towards the locker rooms.

“That was going easy?” I ask, completely mortified.

“He was joking. Are you okay? Did you want medical to check you over?”

I wave him off. “Nah, I’m good. I’m getting used to being used as a punching bag.”

“So … you didn’t win, but you came close, and we weren’t really expecting you to actually beat him on your first go. You could have, though, but you let your nerves get the better of you.”

“I know,” I say, still trying to catch my breath.

“However, you did just survive fifteen minutes in the ring. Think you’re ready for the real thing?”

“That was only fifteen minutes?”
Felt like an hour.

“On fight nights, you’ll be expected to fight three rounds, but they’re only five minutes each. So basically what you just did but with breaks in between. Do you think you’ll be able to handle that?”

After catching my breath a bit more, I nod. “I think so. It was actually … kinda fun.”
I can’t believe I just admitted that.

“Then we need to celebrate,” he says, facing the crowd of fighters below us.

There are low murmurs around the room, everyone staring at me but looking away when I catch them glaring.

“Everyone, shut up!” Brett yells, getting everyone’s attention. “As you can see, Deakin is going through some changes. I’m no longer the prettiest of the group.” Everyone laughs, and I even hear a wolf-whistle from somewhere. “So, let me all introduce you properly to the soon-to-be new face of Deakin.” Brett gestures to the crowd in front of us. “Nuka, meet your new family.”

-11-

WE CAN’T BE TOGETHER

I stare down at my “new family” who are clapping and cheering, and they soon start making their way to the stage to meet me.

Everyone seems nice and encouraging, fist bumping me and telling me how impressed they are.

“What’s with the fist bumping anyway?” I whisper to Brett. “Doesn’t anyone shake hands here?”

Brett smiles a charming half-smile at me. “It’s a sign of respect. You’ve impressed them.”

They’re doubly impressed when Brett tells them I’ve only been training for a few weeks. People push their way closer to me to introduce themselves, and Brett leaves me to mingle. He doesn’t go far though, and I constantly keep finding his gaze. He smiles every time our eyes meet, and he seems to be booming with pride. I’m guessing he’s probably taking all of the credit for my fighting ability.

“At least we’ll be off Wild Card nights for a while then,” a guy says, slapping me on the back as he approaches. “They tell me you’re starting off small.”

“Why is that good for you?” I ask him.

“Wild Card nights suck. It’s okay money, but trust me, you’ll be bored after the first month and itching to get in the arena against me,” he says, charm oozing out of him. “They’re frustrating because you can’t go all out. You have to make sure you don’t do too much damage to the contestants.”

“Well, after facing Steve, I’ll be relieved to face a less experienced fighter.”

“You did really well. Surprisingly well, for a newbie,” what’s-his-face says.

“Thanks … uh … what was your name again? Sorry. I’ve met a gazillion people in the last five minutes.”

He returns my smile. “I’m Flynn. Barton team. Also known as Blaze.”

“Oh, so you’re like Palmer?”

“Yeah, sorta. We’re both fire-starters, but where he throws fireballs, my flames kind of stick to me but only burn my opponent. I guess my ability is more similar to yours, only with flames instead of just heat. It’ll be interesting to see if our abilities cancel each other out seeing as we don’t burn.”

“I look forward to finding out.”

My gaze finds Brett’s again, only he’s now scowling at me.

Great. What have I done now?

“So, what’s the deal with you and him anyway?” Flynn asks, nodding in Brett’s direction.

I shrug one shoulder. “Who knows,” I mutter. “Nothing, really.”

“Are you saying him kis—”

“How about we take this party to the bar?” Steve yells from the floor. He’s dressed now, fresh from a shower by the look of it.

People start descending the stairs and heading to the bar for an impromptu welcome.

“Drink?” Flynn asks.

“Yeah. I might go shower and change first. I feel kinda gross.”

“Yeah, that’s understandable. I’ll see you at the bar then,” he says, walking off.

I start limping my way down the stairs.
When did Steve hit me in the leg? Maybe he kicked me? Maybe I got my ass kicked worse than I originally thought.

“Need a hand?” Brett asks, holding out his arm for me to take.

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” I reply.

He rolls his eyes and takes my arm gently. “Don’t be stubborn, just let me help you.”

“Fine,” I concede as I reach for his arm and then gasp in pain.

He grimaces at my reaction in sympathy but doesn’t say anything until we get to the Deakin locker room. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to medical?”

“I’m fine,” I say, holding my left side.

“At least let me look.”

He removes my hand from my ribs, lightly pressing along my rib cage. I wince and bite the inside of my cheek to stop from screaming out. Looking down, I see my whole left side is already black and blue. Not badly, but it’s definitely tender.

“It looks like it’s only bruised,” he says, moving his hand away. “But keep an eye on it and make sure if it gets worse that you see someone. I’ve cracked ribs before, and it looked a lot worse than that. But the fact it’s bruised so quickly is a bit disconcerting. You should have a hot shower. Loosen your muscles.”

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you back out there?”

“Uh … umm … yeah,” he says, running his hand through his hair.

“Were you wanting something else?”

“No. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He turns to walk away but stops, looking at me over his shoulder. “Be wary of Flynn. He’s only after one thing.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he walks out, and the door clicks shut behind him.

Really? He’s acting all jealous now?

A long grunt of frustration leaves me before I grab my bag and head for the showers on the other side of the locker room.

Relief washes over me when I find two individual stalls, each with a shower and a large dressing area. I was wondering how sharing a locker room with five guys was going to work.

Getting out of my sports bra isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I can barely lift my left arm because of the bruising on my side.

Okay. What are my options?
Thinking through what I could do, I come to the conclusion I’m on my own and just have to bear the pain to get the top off. I can’t ask Brett or any of the other team members to help because they’re all guys and I don’t want them seeing me topless. One of the other girls could help, but I’ve barely just met them, and asking them to help undress me might be a tad inappropriate. Sasha could help … if she was here.

Sucking in repeated short breaths, I take the bra off as fast as I can, thinking it would be like a Band-Aid and I just need to get it over with. I’m so wrong. My scream is so loud I’m sure they’d be able to hear it from the main floor.

The locker room door clicks open. “Nuka, you okay?” Brett’s voice calls out with a hint of urgency.

“I’m fine,” I yell, but my voice sounds strained and wrong.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice suddenly soft and right outside the stall.

“I just had some trouble getting undressed, but it’s all good now. The pain’s subsiding. I’ll be”—I wince—“fine.”

“I’ll just wait for you on the bench until I know you’re okay.”

“Ugh. Why do you even care?”

“Nuk—”

“No, don’t answer that. I’m just in pain and cranky. Also hungry. I’ve been so nervous all day, I didn’t eat lunch in case I upchucked all over the arena.”

He laughs. “You shower. I’ll go organise you some food.”

I shower quickly and Brett was right, the heat on my skin feels amazing. Getting dressed is a lot easier than getting undressed. I still struggle, but it’s manageable.

Not expecting a welcoming party, I only brought jeans and an off-the-shoulder baggy top to go home in. It’s not exactly something I’d normally wear out with friends.

Friends.
Is that what I’m doing here? Making friends? Is that part of the plan? Do I even have a plan at this point? I guess if I’m going to be doing this for the foreseeable future, I should at least try.

When I leave the stall, Brett’s exactly where he said he would be—sitting on the bench next to the lockers.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I say, refusing to look at him.

“I know.” He holds out his arm and I take it in mine.

At the bar, the music has started pumping, and there are more people here than before.

“Who are all these people?” I ask.

“Friends, friends of friends. It doesn’t take long for word to spread when the bar opens early in here.” Brett leads me to the side corner of the bar where he hands me a beer and a plate of pastry-covered meat on sticks. “It was the best I could do on short notice.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m starving,” I reply, shoving one in my mouth and grabbing another to shove in after it. “Fanks,” I say with a full mouth.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he says in my ear, planting his hand on the small of my back.

I nod. “Okay.”

Just as he leaves me, I’m joined by the feisty blonde who was in the ring just before me.

“Ice,” I say, nodding to her.

“Holly. Please.”

“Nuka.”

“I know. So … you and Brett.”

I shove another pastry thing in my mouth so I don’t have to answer.

She chuckles. “Just wanted to give you a heads-up is all. I don’t exactly know how you managed to get him to mark you in such a public display, but that still doesn’t mean he won’t have his fun then be done with you within a few weeks.”

“Uh …”

“Oh. It’s nothing against you or anything. That’s just how he is.”

“Sounds like you’re talking from experience.” I take a sip of my beer to try to hide my uncomfortableness of this conversation.

She shakes her head. “It was a long time ago now. And I’m not the only one. I just wanted to warn you. Most of the guys at Litmus are the same. They have girls hanging off them constantly. But us? Guys are intimidated by girls who can fight. It sucks.”

“Sounds like Litmus is kind of twentieth century. Women are less than men, and men are revered for their muscles and ability to protect their women.”

She laughs. “That pretty much explains it.”

Brett’s talking to a girl in my peripheral vision, smiling and flirting. He touches his hand to her arm as he leaves to heads my way.

I clear my throat, letting Holly know he’s coming back.

She leans in and whispers, “When this all fizzles out, come find me. We’ll go find real men who love strong women.”

I smile and nod politely.

“Holly,” Brett says curtly, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Dickhead,” she replies before walking off.

I stifle a laugh.

“I guess she told you about us, then?”

I shrug out of his grip. “Yeah. She did.”

“It was a long—”

“It’s cool. You’re not mine, so it’s none of my business.” Walking away, I go to find the rest of my teammates to get to know them more, and to stay away from Brett.

He’s hot on me one minute and then standoffish the next. He’s kissed me … three times now, once in front of all of his friends.

What is he playing at?

Shaking my head, I tell myself to forget about Brett and his confusing behaviour. Finding Ryker at the other end of the bar, I sit on the stool next to him.

“Hey.”

“Uh … hi?” He seems shocked that I’m talking to him.

“Umm … how are you?”
Okay, totally didn’t think it would be this awkward. Way to make friends, Nuka.

“Shouldn’t you be over there with Brett?” he asks, indicating where Brett is talking with the flirty girl from earlier.

“He seems plenty entertained to me.”

“So he was just being a dick earlier when he marked you?”

“Marked me?” That’s the second time someone has said that. “What does it even mean?”

“It’s an unspoken thing. Kissing someone in the arena is like marking your territory. It’s this sacred thing. He basically told every other fighter today that you’re his.”

I laugh. “Are you serious?”

He nods.

“Then yes, he was just being a dick because there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Nothing? Are you sure about that?” Ryker quirks his eyebrow at me.

I swallow hard.

“Thought so,” he says cockily.

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fight.”

“The same reason any of us fight. Money, fame … girls,” he says with a shy smile. “Not that any of these girls even glance my way. Even if I am the best fighter.”

“Why not?”

“Even though we all have abilities, pretty much everyone else still fights. It’s like they use their abilities as theatrics, but the real sport is in the punching and kicking. I’m not a bad fighter—if I met someone on the street, I could beat them, but here? I’m seen as the scrawny cheater who
needs
to use his ability to win. So the other fighters don’t really see me as top dog, even though I am.”

“So they make you feel like an outsider? That kinda sucks. Have you ever thought of …” I don’t know if it’d be offensive or not to suggest he train more.

“Thought of …? What, training more?”

I nod.

“Brett offered, once. It never came about, though.”

“What if we trained together? You saw me get my ass kicked today, so I’m sure you can’t be any worse than me.”

He half-smiles. “You were pretty awesome today, even if you did lose. But if you’re serious about the training, I’m in.”

As we smile at each other, his face suddenly drops at whomever I suddenly sense behind me.

“How about that drink?” Flynn says in my ear.

Ryker nods his head, telling me to go with Flynn. “Go, mingle and meet everyone. I think you’ll like it here. And I already like you more than I do the others.” He gives a pointed glare at Flynn as he says this.