Scum (Book 1)

34. Confident

Chey’s POV

The money Alpha Liam was going to pay me is money I didn’t have to start with, so it's money that I won’t miss. Only my brother knows about it because to everyone else on territory, I’m here as Liam’s assistant.

I’m confident in my abilities, otherwise I wouldn’t have bet the full amount, but it’s clear that Alpha Liam isn’t exactly sold.

“It’s not too late to back out, little omega.” The ref isn’t talking down to me, I can tell by the worry in his eyes, but that word is offensive, and the fact that he thinks it’s okay to use in a sentence is precisely the reason I will win this fight.

“Just call it fairly and there won’t be any issue.” I wink at the man, who shakes his head and checks my clothing for weapons.

Since I’m seventeen, I can’t shift, so this will be a hand-to-hand fight until one of us can't continue. The ref does the same to my opponent, who, at twenty, has a wolf, and can shift, so different rules are in place for her.

If she shifts in anyway, she’ll automatically be disqualified. To fighters, a disqualification is worse than losing, so I doubt she’ll go that far, but I’m glad it’s been added as a condition.

The ref gestures for us to approach, but instead of shaking my hand like instructed, the woman spits on my foot, and it took every ounce of willpower not to punch her in the mouth.

The match is about to begin, so angering me was not a good idea for Leann, who’s less agile than I am.

I wasn’t planning to embarrass her, but now, I’ve had a change of heart.

The woman pulls back her arm and swings at me, but she’s tall and slow, so I duck under her arm and punch her in the rip.

Leanne’s a good fighter, so she left herself open for the blow, probably expecting me to position myself behind her, but Dallas used to elbow me whenever I did that to him, so instead of following through with a natural flow of movement, I target the woman’s thigh.

She tensed her muscles just as my fist connected, which is what I needed to stiff arm her leg and take her down with it.

Grappling is not my strong suit, so when the woman stumbled, I rush back, reevaluating this fight because she’s actually well trained.

If she lands one good punch, I’m finished, so I have to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Leanne and I continue to size each other up from a distance, but like a fool, she allows the screaming from the crowd to egg her on, and she rushes me. I allow her to get close, pretending to have barely dodged, but in reality, I was actually trying to get behind her.

Using my agility, I literally cling to her back and pummel her with as many blows as I can before she shrugs me off and sends me flying across the floor.

I expected that, so I jump up quickly, hoping to have antagonized the woman into a rage, which, based on the way she’s charging me, I’ve successfully done.

Instinct tells me to slide into her ankles, but experience tells me to go at her head on, so I match her aggression, accepting a solid blow to my shoulder as I connect one to the side of her face. Her jaw pops, and the pain makes her lose her composure just long enough for me to follow up with several additional attacks to her ribs and gut.

Every time she tries to defend, I target her jaw again, and out of self-preservation, she ends up keeping her arms up, exposing her kidneys, a bad idea when dealing with me.

I get lost in the fury of punches I’m letting loose, all the while trying to get the woman to fall, but when she drops to her knees, she reaches out with extended claws that I can’t completely avoid without putting myself in a more vulnerable position.

The sight of my bleeding thigh infuriates me, and the fact that the ref hasn’t said anything is even more maddening, so I stop fighting fairly, and treat the woman the way I’ve been wanting since the moment she spit on me.

All the rage, sadness, bitterness, and stress I’ve held back over the years gets poured into every blow, and at a certain point, the woman is on all fours while I continuously kick her ribs, hoping to break them and make moving unbearable.

I eventually succeed, but Leanne isn’t weak, she’s slow because she’s made of muscle, and clearly doesn’t stretch much.

She makes one last desperate attempt to gore me, but I’m not afraid of scars.

I close the distance between us, startling the woman who’s likely bleeding internally by now, and done with the fight, I hit her with a combo move that makes her crumple on the mat.

Technically, the fight isn’t over because the woman is still trying to right herself, but it doesn’t feel fair to continue to go after her, so I just stand there, waiting to see what happens.

I won’t insult her by asking her to give up, but she can barely breathe, and based on my throbbing hand, she likely has a concussion from my last blow.

If I hit her that hard on the head again, it could kill her; the same is true for her ribs and stomach, so I do what I think is right and strike her Vagus Nerve, watching her face plant as her body struggles to adjust to the rapid spike in blood pressure.

What I did is dangerous, and it can kill by stopping the heart, but this is the reality for our species. Every day that we wake could be our last, and seeing that no one plans to interfere, I step forward, wanting to check the woman’s vitals myself.

All the while, I hear and see a woman who’s trying to get to me from the spectators' seats, but she looks about as delicate as a flower, so I’m not worried about her at all.

“Stay away from my mate!” She shrills, breaking free of the people holding her at around the same time that I’m able to detect my opponent's pulse.

As soon as I stand, the woman swings at me, so I make quick work of her by putting her in a chokehold until she stops thrashing around.

Still, no one calls the match, and yet another person interferes, causing me to narrow my eyes, especially when I see that my alpha and beta are purposefully being blocked out by multiple males.

They’re outnumbered, and this is an event for young men and women who hold alpha ranks, so they won’t be able to kill everyone with ease.

“It’s fine!” I shout, making eye contact with Liam who looks strange.

He probably doesn’t think that I can handle myself, but he was away at school when a new neighbor attacked the pack, and I was forced to take my first set of lives.

At that time, warriors surrounded me much the way they are now, and although I was able to get support from my patrol partner, it was only my wit and skill that kept me alive.

Taking a deep breath, I rotate my shoulders, carefully observing the several people who’ve stepped forward as I try to guess who’s the weakest in the bunch.

If they want to play this game, we can, but I promise that I won’t be the person who regrets the result.

Liam’s POV

Chey is brutal, and I never really realized how skilled of a fighter the girl is.

I mean, I know that she’s the top female fighter in the pack, but I always assumed that it was because she outclassed the women in our pack only, which is a slight toward her, and a mistake on my part.

“Pack helper my ass,” Riker growls, still nervously squeezing my arm because the match is still young, and anything could happen.

“You’re cutting off my circulation,” I grunt, attempting to pull away from the man who shoots to his feet at the same time the smell of blood hits my nose. “Leanne f*cking cheated, why is the match still going?” Riker is talking to himself, but he knows just as well as I do that Chey started this fight at a disadvantage.

She’ll have to bring her opponent near death in order to be declared the winner, but even after that happens, no one is calling the fight.

“We have to do something.” Royce and I try to get to the mats, but Alpha Arlon and a few other alpha males who don’t want to offend him stand in our path.

“Going somewhere?”

“Chey’s already proven herself as our top female fighter. Why isn’t the match being ended.”

“I never said that Leanne was her only opponent.” I flinch as I realize the alpha in front of me is absolutely insane. “Maybe next time she’ll learn not to disrespect her betters.” I start to tremble with rage, but Chey’s sweet and melodic voice instantly pulls my attention back to the fight.

“It’s fine!” She yells, flashing a barely perceptible smirk as multiple men and women begin to surround her.

“What is the point of this?” I ask through gritted teeth, not wanting to see the girl hurt any further than she already is.

“There is no point. I just like to destroy the tenacity of the rankless. Don’t worry; I’ve given them instruction to not kill her.”

“Sir, what you’re doing isn’t right. Chey is seventeen, she’s yet to come into her wolf and-”

A loud cry comes from the mats, pulling my attention again, and I see that Chey used the lifeless body of the first intruder to her advantage. I don’t know what happened, but someone’s arm is broken, another is spouting blood from his nose, and someone else is struggling to breathe.

I can’t tell what I missed, but when Chey uses a man's tie to strangle him, then uses him as a shield to block her other opponents, I feel a rush of euphoria mixed with fear.

There’s still one opponent, and he managed to kick her thigh hard enough to make her leg buckle, but Chey uses her head as a weapon, coming up on the man’s chin hard before guiding his head to her knee.

Within minutes she’s the last one standing, and finally, the ref calls the match.

Chey’s hurt, but she’s alive, and the highlight is Alpha Arlon’s bitter expression as she smugly approaches us.