Page 100 of The Deceptions

“Gladly,” he growls, bulldozing toward me at his highest speed.

I jump to the side just as he gets to me and kick the back of his knees out. He lands with a loud thud, expelling the air fromhis lungs. Before he can think about standing again, I punch him. Over and over again until he’s collapsing on the ground and unmoving. But I don’t stop. I grunt, smashing my fist into his face over and over again. Strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me off the big man now out on the mat, drooling and mentally begging for his mommy. Whoever plucked me off Brutus sets me on my feet and stands beside me as I catch my breath. The entire room sways in my vision, but I right myself, lifting my chin.

I may be smaller than him, but I’m goddamn mighty.

The crowd blinks back at me when I finally look around until they explode, cheering my name. My arm immediately gets thrown in the air victoriously by the man who pulled me off. I expect to see one of the referees standing beside me, but it's not. It's Hux, looking down at me with pride shining in his eyes and confusion written on his expression.

"Well I'll be damned," he mutters, squeezing my wrist. "You really fucking did it. You beat the unbeatable,” he grunts out gruffly in awe.

I don't say anything back. Too stunned by having his hands on my wrist. When I get my wits back, I yank my hand from his grip.

"Thanks for the confidence." I roll my eyes and take a step away.

Medics immediately jump into the ring with a stretcher, rolling Brutus onto his back and taking him away. The crowd continues to chant my name with excitement.

I cringe when something hits my face and blanch when I hold the lacy material in front of my face. Blinking several times, I take in the bra as heat billows onto my cheeks, and I drop it.

“Fuck,” I grunt earning a chuckle from Hux. Everything in him seems to relax as he stands beside me.

“We’re having a party,” he says offhandedly, pulling my attention back to him.

“Oh, yeah. Another one at your frat?” I’m well aware. But I’d love to hear it straight from his mouth. It’s the party of the century, according to Simon. It happens every year, and it’s for anyone interested in drinking and losing themselves at the graveyard where they hold it. It’s also the first step into showing interest in their frat.

“More of a clubhouse,” he says, shrugging.

“And what does your clubhouse do?” I raise a brow, gently rubbing at the bruise forming on my aching jaw. Fucker. Those were the only hits I allowed him to get on me.

“A lot of shit.” He shrugs.

So damn informative.

“Okay. What kind of shit specifically?” I want to know what this mysterious frat or clubhouse is responsible for. Criminal activity?

“Let’s just say, if you’re wanting to get ahead in life, you’ll join us. From here, you can get any job you want. Any internship that interests you. Business investments. It’s good for your future to have us at your back, and vice versa.”

“Is this how you sell it to everyone?” I snark.

He shrugs, sending me a glare. “Come or don’t. But I’m extending the invitation. We could use a guy like you in our frat.”

A guy like me. I want to snort. If he only knew.

I pretend like I'm thinking about it and shrug. "Sure. Simon was going to drag me there, anyway."

Everything aches from the exertion of the fight. My jaw. My ribs. My fucking feet. It's been too long since I've jumped into the ring with someone. Spared and punched like my life depended on it. Tonight was a necessity, though. I couldn't say no to Brutus. Although, I'm betting now he wishes I did.

"Good," he grunts, taking a step back and collecting himself. "I expect you here for more fights."

"And why would I do that?" I raise a brow. He assumes I'll come back.

"Because the more you win, the more status you gain. You just knocked down the biggest fucking douche on campus." A slow grin spreads across his face. "He'll be after you, too."

"After me?" I glower, curling my fists.

"Yeah, so maybe it's best you join. We're the fucking kings, and no one will bother you."

I roll my eyes. Typical fucking Hux thinking. He's a king? Puh-lease.

"Only fellow douchebags call themselves the kings of campus," I quip.