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Except I can feel the hatred and anger in him, possessing him and urging him on in a way I haven’t seen since we came here. He practically snarls as he punches my side hard and sweeps me, moving into top position and then passing guard just like I fucking taught him.
The fucker is now standing over me as I’m in an awful position on my back. He has the upper hand, and until he makes his next move, I don’t know if I will be able to get on my feet as well, or bring him down here with me.
“I fucking had you,” he says in a low voice, the spotlight on the ceiling behind him darkening his face so I can’t quite make out his expression. But I know it’s one of complete disdain, and I know he’s talking about the tournament.
I kick up at him, and he knocks my foot away. I’m surprised when I take my chance to get to my feet, and he lets me. He’s glaring at me, maintaining his stance and ready to pounce.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “But you didn’t.”
Luca is quick with a front kick to my stomach and a rush of air escapes me as I stumble backwards. He darts forward, but I raise my hands just in time as his right fist swings at my face. But the fast fucker redirects and lands a left hook to my ribs instead.
“You didn’t even need it,” he grunts as he brings a knee up to my ribs on the other side.
It takes me a minute to catch up and realize what he’s saying as I defend myself against his attack, all while trying to catch my breath.
“I did need it,” I pant, striking out and punching his jaw. “Because of you.”
His elbow meets my cheekbone, followed by another fist to the ribs.
Fucking fucker.
“Don’t blame me for your need to be a complete fucking asshole.” He takes a couple steps back and kicks my thigh before I can close the distance. “You weren’t even supposed to be there.”
Annoyance is now completely taking over. I shrug one shoulder, gesturing around the gym. “And you aren’t supposed to be here. But here you are.”
If I thought he looked angry before, it’s nothing compared to the look on his face now. He suddenly collides with me, bringing us both down to the mat with a hard thump, and unleashes a fury of punches to my face and body. He’s fast and ruthless, as I scramble to defend myself, unable to attack.
Eventually, I’m able to trap his side and roll, moving us so that I am now in mount position. Just like how we finished the tournament.
But this time, the fight is still going. And this time, I can bring myself to look into his eyes.
I do, as I grab his wrists and pin them to the floor on either side of his head. And as I meet his eyes, they are full of hatred.
The only sounds around us are our heavy breaths as I stare down at him. There’s a cut above his eye which is swelling and bleeding, and I can feel that one of my lips is busted.
“It had nothing to do with you,” I say, my voice low and firm.
“Bullshit,” he spits out, and attempts to move out of my grasp. But I hold on. “You saw an opportunity to fuck with me, and you took it.”
I’m fighting every urge to stay calm and not punch this asshole straight in the face. Again.
“No,” I grit out. “I saw an opportunity to regain my focus and get back on track… and…” I swallow hard, “didn’t think of how it would fuck with you.”
Luca continues to stare up at me, his expression unchanging.
I shake my head slightly. “I can’t lose control.”
He forcefully pulls his wrists from my grip, hands landing hard on my chest. But as I prepare for another onslaught of punches to the face, I’m surprised when he rolls over instead, sitting up on the octagon floor. He still looks angry. But he’s not hitting me, so I guess that’s progress.
“And why do you need to take from me so you can have control?”
A tightness settles in my chest as I realize what he’s saying. I did know how much this tournament meant to him. And a couple months ago, I wouldn’t have even questioned stripping him of a lead spot in our bracket.
But things have changed now.
“Do you really hate me that much?” he asks, and I swear I sense a pleading undertone to his question.
Or maybe I just want to hear it.
