Page 20 of Blood & Throttle

"That right?" I cock my head, flicking ash onto the pavement. "And who the fuck decided that, Jace? You?"

"We all fucking know the rules—"

I cut him off with a slow, amused smirk. "The Gauntlet doesn’t have rules, dumbass."

Jace’s jaw tightens, nostrils flaring. "That’s not the fucking point! You can’t just—"

"I can do whatever the fuck I want." The words are calm, steady, absolute and the pit knows it.

Jace knows it too, but he’s too far gone to stop himself. He’s got an audience. He’s got a bruised ego, a busted-up bike, and a shattered fucking pride. He needs to win something tonight.

Too bad it won’t be this.

He takes a step closer, practically vibrating with rage. "You think you can just put some rookie bitch on your bike and pretend she belongs here? She ain’t shit! She should’ve died out there, and you fucking know it!"

I feel Sienna shift beside me, but she doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t move, but Jace notices. His lips curl, and his eyes flick toward her.

"What?" Jace lets out a sharp laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it. It’s venom, pure and raw, the kind of sound a man makes before he does something stupid. "You got nothing to say now, sweetheart? No smart-ass remark? No attitude?"

Sienna finally moves.

She tilts her head, eyes dark and unreadable, her lips curling into the faintest smirk. "Sorry, I just got distracted, was trying to figure out how you made it across the finish line with my boot so far up your ass."

A few laughs snap through the pit, sharp and quick, from the ones too stupid to hide their amusement.

I shouldn’t give a fuck. But I do. Because seeing her mouth off, standing her ground, completely unfazed by Jace’s bullshit? That shit shouldn’t be hot.

Butfuck, it is.

Watching her stare him down, fearless and sharp-tongued, makes my dick hard. Her defiance is a goddamn spectacle—reckless, sharp, and completely unearned. Except when it’s aimed at me.

Then? It’s a fucking headache.

Jace’s face twists, his jaw locking so tight I swear I hear his teeth grind. His knuckles crack as he clenches his fists, breathing heavily through his nose like a bull ready to charge. The fury in his eyes is different now—darker, meaner, the kind that doesn’t stop at a broken nose.

He steps closer, voice dropping to something low, and sick crawling under the skin.

"The first round might be over, but The Gauntlet never sleeps, sweetheart." Jace leans in just slightly, his tone shifting, something hungry, twisted, and fucking vile curling around the edges. "You should watch your back. Might pay you a little visit when you least expect it. You know… welcome you properly."

I go still.

I know exactly what the fuck he’s hinting at. And if he thinks for one second I’m letting that happen, he’s already got one foot in the grave.

Jace’s hand twitches, fingers itching to grab her, shove her, to put his filthy fucking hands where they don’t belong.

I don’t think. I move.

Because no one—no one—touches what’s mine.

Sienna Vega? That stubborn, reckless, smart-mouthed little stray?

She belonged to me the second she clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her alive.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

The second his fingers touch her skin, I drop him.

The cigarette dangles from my lips, the ember glowing red-hot as my fist collides with his face, knuckles cracking against bone, the impact ripping through the pit like a goddamn earthquake. Jace’s head snaps back. His body crumples before his brain even catches up and the entire pit fucking loses it.