The Numbers on Her Wrist

27

A/N Apologies for the late chapter. This past few days (Thurs.-Sat.) our wifi was completely knocked out because of a huge storm and flood that came through our town. I kept revising this up until the point of publishing it, trying to decide what route to take with plot. I am thinking about doing just a prequel to this, instead of a sequel and the prequel, but it all depends on how the story continues!

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did typing it!

Samuel follows close behind me as we dodge our way through the crowd, picking out perspective opponents as we pass by the men who push to the front of the line for a chance in the ring. I look to him and notice that he is staring, a small smile on his lips as he pulls me a little closer, and he whispers loudly into my ear over the screaming and shouting. "Want to go to the back and take a drink before we try and get in on the fights?"

I nod and guide us through the rows of arms and torsos, everyone crowding for a chance to look at the woman in the middle of the ring, her fists held up against a man only two inches taller than her, but far skinnier; she is winning and every single fighter here knows it.

"Looks like you have some competition in the strongest woman department."

I smirk at Samuel's comment, accepting the water bottle he passes to me, lifting the satchel from my shoulder and setting it on the ground. "Nah. Her moves are too sloppy- she is lucky that the guy she is fighting is tired." I gesture towards the pair as she throws a left hook, but it is not straight and almost misses her opponent's face. "I see your point," Sam admits, taking the drink back from me and quaffing a fourth of it.

I watch the activities within the large building that the street fight is taking place in, but for tonight only, it seems like the only thing other than street fighting taking place is a crowd at the drinks table where a few people laugh and chatter. There are no shimmering dresses or cards to gamble or any other things that would distract from the main attraction. My eyes then rove over the people for the second time since I arrived, many head bobbing up and down as they trade from flat feet to tiptoes in order to observe the brawl, and some arms gesturing wildly to get their friends' attention.

A hooded figure catches my eye, their form moving quickly throughout the ranks as their head keeps down and stare cast on the ring; they know what they are doing; I want a challenge tonight and they will be the one to give it to me. I watch in silent shock as a sprig of long hair falls from their jacket, bright feminine eyes shining as they glance my way, and I realize that not only is it a girl, but she is barely fifteen.

"I'm going next," I say to Samuel, who is stretching out his right shoulder that has been giving him some trouble the past few nights. He nods curtly and says nothing as I push back through the men and women, gaining on the girl in the black coat as we both wait for the fight in the middle to finish. Her eyes catch mine and a faint smile can be seen in the shadows of her jacket's hood, and I can almost imagine a smirk on her confident face and figure- she believes herself an equal or better match for me. I smile in response, knowing that overconfidence kills you faster here, and she gestures towards the ring. She is accepting my challenge and I move a hand forward also, acknowledging her affirmation. As she tears her gaze from mine I do the same, both of us set on the two fighters as we wait for our turn.

The man who struggles to stand upright is holding on to as many seconds as he can, gaining both cheers of encouragement and of impatience. The woman sighs and wipes sweat from her forehead before she throws the final punch, the loser crumpling to the cool concrete and barely even breathing. The ref counts him out and the victory to the woman, a few of the spectators dragging the man away from the arena, and money is exchanged around the warehouse.