Page 82

Don’t Say Goodbye

“ N o, again,” Major shouts from the side of the sand, watching me with a hard expression.

He looks out of place here, with his perfect suit and well-mannered looks, but he obviously knows what he is doing.

So, I pick myself up and go again, and again, until my body is one big aching muscle and I can hold the sword properly.

When I get a hit on the guard and defeat him, I can’t help but grin, looking towards Major.

The look of pride he beams at me makes all the pain and effort worth it.

“Good, tomorrow we will teach you two swords,” he calls, walking towards me, ignoring the dirt gathering on his pristine black shoes.

Swinging the practice sword casually in an arc, I grin. “Two swords, huh? I like the idea of that.” We share a smile before we are interrupted by a ring guard running onto the sand.

When he reaches us, he hesitates before whispering in Major’s ear, I see his face shut down. All trace of emotions wiped away. He nods and looks at me, instantly my back straightens and I know it is bad news.

“He is back. Best go and get ready.” His face is calm, but his voice wavers with anger and before I can question him on it, he spins on his heel and leaves the fighting pit.

All my excitement drops away and my shoulders hunch.

I had three days, three whole fucking days of not seeing him.

I wonder if this is what it feels like to be free?

“Little queen,” comes a desperate whisper.

I know that voice. I start to swim up from the memory but as soon as I do, I can feel it.

The pain, the pure unfiltered agony rolling through my body.

My heart feels like it’s being pulled from my chest and my lungs are tight.

My face feels like someone took a hammer to it, but it’s the bone deep sadness that has me flinching away, back into the safe and almost happy place of my memories.

I hesitate, not wanting to abandon whoever is whispering to me, but as I float there in blissful torment I slip away again, with nothing or no one to hold on to. It’s just me.

Looking into the tiny dirty mirror, I stare at the creature I have become.

I was in his care for two hours, although they felt like a century, and this is what happened.

For the last three days I had become more, the bruises had faded and I had forgotten to flinch when people came near me.

Yet two hours with him and I am nothing more than a shell again.

My face is bruised, broken. My left eye will be black and my cheekbone hurts so much he might have broken it.

My bottom lip is double its normal size and a gash runs across my entire forehead from his cane.

I know I won’t be able to sit down and my back will have more scars.

I think the only thing he didn’t touch were my legs. Lucky me.

Then I start to get angry, this defeated looking creature can’t be me.

I hate it. I hate the weakness and fear in her eyes.

I hate the sunken, dead acceptance. My fist cocks back before I can stop it and smashes into the mirror, shattering it.

My reflection still stares back at me, but from a million tiny pieces.

Shattered, like me. It helped, so I do it again and again, screaming as my knuckles are cut open, yet I can’t stop.

The anger has to go somewhere and what is one more pain?

I don’t even hear him until he catches my fist mid swing, gently turning it over to show me the destroyed knuckles.

Blood is running freely and dropping to the floor, I can see the inside of my muscle and, I am pretty sure, some bone.

I look up from his perfectly manicured hand holding my destroyed one, until I meet his eyes.

There I see the anger I feel, the heartbreak and utter desperation, but why does he care? I am no one, I am just a slave.

“No, never,” he mutters hoarsely, making me realise I spoke out loud. “You are so much more than that, you are a fighter. You are a survivor.” Looking down, he rubs some of the blood away from the edge of my fingers “You will heal, and you will thrive, I can see it in your eyes... you are like me.”

“Why do you care?” I ask, not giving a shit if it gets me punished. He’s too kind to me, it’s too much. He must want something, he wouldn’t teach me to fight, teach me to protect myself, feed me, clothe me, and spend his nights telling me stories if he did not. It’s just how the world works.

He blows out a breath, his eyes searching mine.

“Because, kid, what kind of world do we live in where I can watch a young girl be destroyed right in front of me and not care? You take each shot and keep moving, that’s why I care.

I care because I can save you… no that’s not right.

You can save yourself, but I want to help.

” The honesty in his expression and words stagger me, and he watches me as hope blooms to life in his eyes, mirroring what I am feeling in my chest. I stare at him with stars in my eyes; can he really mean what he says?

It’s stupid, but I trust him. He spent three weeks earning that trust, so why don’t I give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, still holding my hand.

Three simple words, but something no one has asked me for a long time, because no one cares.

Three simple words and Major has my heart.

I throw myself into his arms, sobbing all my pain and fear away.

He holds me here in the locker room of the pit, his arms wrapped around me like he will let no one ever hurt me again as I bloody his perfect white shirt.

“I’ve got you, kid, I’ve got you,” he whispers, squeezing me tighter as I curl my fists into his shirt and hold on tight, like I might be snatched away from him at any minute.

“We will get through this, I have a plan. I’ll get you out, you can come and live here, and we can work through all the books you eyed up in my library when you didn’t think I noticed.

” I snort out a desperate laugh and tilt my head back to look into his sincere eyes.

His hand comes up and cups my face. “You’re going to be okay, kid, you can get through anything, just remember to fight with everything you have in you… ”

The memory starts to fade, and I can feel my body again, with an anguished cry I try to hold on, try to bury myself back in his arms, but it's no good. I can feel it fading around me, and the last thing I see is that fucking soft smile and eyes so full of love and pride for me.

“I love you,” I whisper as he fades away and I am left looking at the ceiling of a moving car.

Blinking, I groan before I remember to be quiet, my whole body hurts.

I forgot what it felt like to be in constant pain.

I don’t want to, but looking won’t make it less real, so I slowly turn my head, having to close my eyes for a second when my vision spins.

Fuck, I couldn’t even fight my way out of a scav den at the moment.

I spot Vasilisy first, I must be laid on his legs, my head propped up because he is staring, no glaring, at the other people in the car, his back is ramrod straight and his hands are clenched in anger.

He glances down when he feels my gaze and shakes his head slightly.

I get the idea and flutter my lashes shut so I can only see through the slits, if anyone glances my way they will think I am still passed out.

Slowly, to not draw attention to myself, I turn again, until I can see the rest of the car.

I have to stop halfway again, when my head feels like it will explode, but keeping my breathing even and shallow, I finally have my head turned to face the rest of the car.

I count three Berserkers in the back and there must be two in the front.

It looks like we are in one of the war cars, as Ivar calls them, basically an old modded army truck.

I don’t want to talk, but I am curious how long we have been on the road and when we are going to make our move.

Thinking through my options, I work through my body at the same time, testing to see if anything is broken.

When it doesn’t seem to be, I let the pain consume me for a moment before pushing it away.

Sands below, I can’t fight off an army right now.

I just need to bide my time, allow my body some time to heal so that I can fight.

With that thought in mind, I close my eyes again, keeping my breathing nice and even, and lose myself while still being aware of my surroundings, which is harder than it sounds with my heart breaking in my chest as I remember what happened.

God, Major.

His name sends a throb of pain and grief through my chest like a knife.

I thought he was unkillable, so strong and sure, logic backing him up and the laws keeping him safe.

At least now I am breaking no treaty by killing Ivar, he did that when he killed the leader of the safe zone.

No blood will be shed in The Ring, outside of the fighting pit, or they forfeit their life.

It’s something drilled into me by Major and I thank him for that now.

I guess most people would skirt around the pain, trying to forget it, but I do the opposite.

I let it consume me. I let it grow inside of me until I am nothing but the rage he created.

I think of all the people I have lost: my brother, my father, Petal, Noah, and now Major.

I let the hate and fury twist inside until I don’t know where I end and it begins. It is what will get me through this.

I guess I must doze off, my head wound worse than I expected, because I am awoken when the truck jolts to a stop. “We are here, little queen.”