Losing Nuka (Litmus Book 1) (18 page)

Brett visibly relaxes. “Now your turn,” he says to me.

“Are you sure you don’t have a double ability and have some supernatural high pain threshold?”

“Overcoming pain is not a physical thing. It’s all mental.”

“Oh, okay, Zen master.”

Between upping my weights routine and pushing training sessions to the limits, my body is starting to protest. And now they’re attacking my mind.

Jonas and Cade haven’t said any more about going into the arena yet, just that it’ll be soon and to keep training to make sure I’m ready when the time comes. Brett’s gone back to fighting, and I haven’t been introduced officially to the fighting world yet, so I haven’t had to be at Brett’s fights for publicity. So I’m at home doing weights and cardio morning and night, and we spar in the middle of the day—unless it’s fight night or the day after, then Ryker has stepped in. Today, they’re both ganging up on me.

Ryker wasn’t lying when he said he’s not bad at fighting, but his reflex to use his ability responds too quickly when someone gets the upper hand.

“It’s all mind over matter,” Ryker encourages. “You can beat it, or at least hold it off from consuming you. Ready to go again?”

Nodding and getting to my feet, the pain slowly starts in my brain, making its way down into my neck before consuming my entire head. Sweat drips off my brow as I try fighting it. I grunt from the energy of refusing to give into it, refusing to collapse.
Come on, Nuka. Keep concentrating.

“Try to think of something … anything to distract you from the pain. A memory, a funny story someone told you. Anything,” Brett says.

The first thing that comes to mind is Declan. I have years of fun memories with him. Surely, I can conjure up something distracting enough.

Walking through the dauntingly long corridor of my brand new school, I told myself to ignore the blatant stares, the judging looks, and the tiny hint of fear in some of my classmate’s eyes. I stared straight ahead and kept walking towards my goal—my classroom.

Starting a new school in the middle of the year would be nerve wracking under normal circumstances, but I wasn’t normal. I’ve never been normal.

“Hey! Skate park girl!” I heard a voice yelling from down the hallway. Turning around, I was met with the face of an angel. Okay, maybe not an angel, but definitely my saviour. His bright blue eyes were almost covered by his shaggy dark hair.

“Hi,” I said nervously.

“First day?”

“Uh … yeah.”

“I’m Declan.”

“Nuka.”

“Welcome to Howard Academy.” He gave a confident smile, one I could only match.

“Nuka … Nuka?” Brett’s voice brings me out of my daze.

“What?”

“You did it.”

It’s only now I remember where I
actually
am and what we’re doing. “I did it?”

Looking at Ryker and Brett with their astounded expressions, I realise I’m not in pain. Until I snap out of my trance and realise that I am.
So much pain.

Grabbing my head and letting out a loud scream, I beg Ryker to stop.

“Sorry,” he says before mentally releasing me.

“What were you thinking about?” Brett asks. “You completely tuned out. It was like you weren’t even here.”

“Uh … nothing in particular. Just school …” My hand itches to play with my hair, but I force myself to keep my hands by my side.

Brett knows I’m lying, though, his face falling in disappointment. “Right. So whenever you feel you can’t go on, just think about
him
and you’ll be fine. I think that’ll be enough for today.” He stalks out of the room. The door slams behind him, and I flinch.

“That was weird,” Ryker says.

“Nah. That was just Brett.”

Reaching for my water bottle, I take a seat on the floor and take a sip. Ryker sits next to me.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks.

“What?”

“You and Brett. You don’t exactly … I mean … you don’t act like a couple behind closed doors. I thought I was going to have to put up with mushy lovey-dovey stuff during our training sessions, but I haven’t. I don’t feel like the third wheel at all.”

“I don’t hear a question in all of that.”

“Are you two …”

“It’s just really complicated. There are some trust issues. My best friend’s a guy, so Brett’s not too happy about that. And he has a history with nearly everyone from Litmus.”

I don’t know why I’m not telling Ryker the truth—that there’s nothing really going on between Brett and me. For some unknown reason, the words just aren’t coming.

“He was a bit of a manwhore before you,” Ryker says. “You want to keep training while he sulks about whatever he’s sulking about?”

“Sure. But it’s my turn to cause you pain.”

***

Sitting down to our family dinner, I’m surprised to see an extra place setting next to mine.

“Who’s—”

“Hey,” Brett says, walking in and taking the spare chair.

“Oh. Never mind.”

“We have some good news,” Cade exclaims.

“Oh?” I ask.

“We’re all set. Your first fight is in a week.”

“A week?” I sputter. “Great.” I drag out the word. On the inside, I’m cringing.
What if I stuff it all up? What if I lose?

“You’re ready, Nuke,” Brett says.

“And are
you
ready?” I ask him. “To take this”—I gesture between the two of us—“public?”

“All part of my job, sweetheart.”

Yeah, would’ve been more convincing if the “sweetheart” didn’t come out so sullen.

“You’ll need to cease with the training,” Cade says. “At least where you’re getting hit in the face. Vidia can only do so much with her makeup brush.”

Ugh. Vidia.

“We’ll be revealing your promo posters on that night. It’s what we’ve been waiting for. We needed to know they’d be ready before we committed to a fight date.”

Jonas, who’s been quiet as usual, letting Cade do all of the talking for him, hands over an envelope.

Inside are all the photos from the shoot.

“That one,” Cade says, “is the new team banner.”

Brett looks over my shoulder as I lift it closer to me. It’s breathtaking, intimidating, and fierce all at the same time.

My purple eyes bore into the camera lens, glowing with radioactivity.  Brett’s lips are on my shoulder, his face obscured. His arms protectively surround me, supporting my bruised side, which isn’t digitally covered like Olivia said it would be, but it gives it attitude. With just his hands, he’s warning vengeance on anyone who hurts me.

Beside me, facing the opposite direction, is Steve, his back muscles tense and rigid, his whole body almost a translucent glow. Colton’s on the other side of him, only one of his black wings visible as it falls at his side like it’s an extension of himself, another limb. On the other side of Brett, Palmer stands with a hand behind his back, a superimposed fireball in his hand. Lastly, Ryker’s on the end, smaller than the rest but glancing over his shoulder, his side profile giving a knowing smirk. His attitude oozes
“I’m number one.”

“It’s perfect,” I say in awe. We look like a team, and Brett and I look like a couple.

“Except you can’t see my face,” Brett says.

“You can’t see any of the other’s faces either,” I point out.

“No one needs to see your pretty face now, anyway. You’re taken.” Sasha’s voice comes from the doorway, as she arrives late—something I have grown accustomed to when it comes to family dinners. “Give me a look.” She walks around the dining table and sorts through more of the photos from the envelope. “Whoa,” she says, picking one up. “You look insanely hot, Nuka.”

She hands me the photo, and it takes less than a second for me to work out when the photo was taken. Brett’s chest is barely visible behind me, but my face is angry, full of rage. It was the first photo taken after Brett re-joined my side when Vidia cornered him. I look like the grungy street fighter they wanted me to be, but I know better. The look of contempt on my face is one of competition, of my desire to fight; only my intended victim is not a fellow fighter, but a makeup-brush wielding ex-girlfriend. It’s a look of pure jealousy.

Cade looks to me, a proud smile on her face. “You are the new face of Deakin.”

-14-

MY FIRST FIGHT

“Ready?” Ryker asks me, bouncing on his heels in front of me as I sit in the locker room with my head in my hands.

“Do I look ready?” I snap.

“No need to bite my head off,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry. I just need a reminder of why I’m doing this. This is stupid. It’s demeaning, it’s—”

“Fun, exciting … you’ll get lots of money.”

To be more specific, my
charity
will get lots of money.

I stand and hug Ryker, hoping it will somehow calm my nerves. “Thank you.”

“No problem. You’re going to do great.”

The door clicks open and the rest of the team enters, Brett bringing up the rear.

“What are you guys doing?” I ask as they start stripping off their shirts.

“We’re escorting you out there,” Colton says. “No one’s going to mess with our girl.”

“Ugh. Cade and Jonas’s idea?”

“We’re ‘revealing our new brand,’” Steve says with a roll of his eyes.

“Come on, we’ll be announced any minute,” Brett orders.

We head out as a group and wait behind the double doors that will lead us straight to the floor.

“Up front, Nuka,” Brett says.

I stand by the doors, feeling nauseated and a little bit ridiculous in full hair and makeup. My hair has been curled, styled, and left down, by orders of Cade.
“Image is everything,”
she said. Apparently, girls have to look like pin-up models to fight. I at least convinced them to forgo the fake eyelashes, stating how hard it would be for me to see.

I am worried about the hair though. I’ve been training with my hair up—having it down is just inviting my opponent to pull on it.

The announcer, force field guy—Felix as Brett calls him—starts amping up the audience. “Welcome to Wild Card night!” he yells. “You’re going to be introduced to a brand new fighter tonight. She’s young, she’s hot—in more ways than one. She’s joining the Deakin ranks. She is, Heatwave!”

The crowd goes ballistic, and the rumbling of their cheers and stomping feet vibrates the air.

“Let’s do this,” Brett says, opening the door for me.

Telling myself to not pay attention to the faces surrounding me, I look ahead at the arena and keep my eyes trained on Felix. I concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and try my hardest not to smile. I’m meant to appear fierce.

Brett and Colton flank me on each side, trailed by the others behind us. The crowd parts for us, making a clear path to the arena. It almost feels like I’m gliding, as we head towards the stage.

Above the bar behind the ring, our new banner hangs. I barely have enough time to appreciate it before we reach the steps to the platform. Brett grabs my hand, walking me up to the stage, and the rest of the team waits at the bottom of the steps. Girls practically swarm the guys, trying to get close to them.

Brett turns to me, his hand cradling my face. “This doesn’t go on my tally, it’s an order,” he says with a smile as he leans in and kisses me feverishly, pulling my body into his.

“You’ll do great,” he whispers when he pulls away. He leaves me, my legs weak at the knees. When he reaches the bottom of the steps, he stays ringside.

I turn slowly, facing the crowd—a sea of screaming bodies. Felix joins my side as I try to regain my composure.

“Oh!
Oh!
Did
that
just happen?” Felix yells. “I bet there are a lot of broken hearts out there right now. Brawn … in
love?
You must be one tough girl,” he says, nudging me with his elbow.

I continue to stand as still as a statue, keeping up my fierce charade as my heart beats wildly in my chest.

“Before we get started, and before all you women out there start signing up to take this girl down for stealing the man of your hearts,” he starts bantering again, “I’d like to tell you a story.”

What is he doing?
I glance down at Brett at the bottom of the steps, looking for an answer, but he looks as confused as I feel. He doesn’t know what’s going on either. Felix was meant to do a quick, simple introduction.

“A long time ago, there was a man. He was no ordinary man.” Felix is getting animated and walking around the arena, making sure everyone in the crowd gets a glimpse of him. “He was born to be a leader, born to stand out in a crowd, born with one purpose: to become president.” The crowd screams, but Felix just yells louder into the microphone. “To rid our world of discrimination and give us Immunes a chance at life.”

He’s not talking about …
I close my eyes for a brief second and tell myself this isn’t happening.

“Unfortunately, before he could accomplish that goal, he was gunned down by anti-Immune activists.”

The crowd lets out a collective “boo.”

No, no, no, no, no, no.

“You’re probably wondering what this has to do with this lovely, fine specimen before you,” Felix says gesturing to me. “Not many know that he had a daughter. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that daughter is here, and she’s
all
grown up. She’s here fighting for vengeance for her father, fighting for her right to be noticed, and … as we’ve just seen, fighting for the man by her side.”

Angry, so very angry. My hands explode with tingling heat, itching to get some action. The urge to run off this stage right now is so strong I’m surprised my feet aren’t moving yet.

“Who will try to defy her honour? Who wants to knock her back in her place? Step forward,
now.
”

Even though the crowd is screaming and yelling and getting riled up, all I hear is crickets. No one is stepping forwards. It’s like I’m back at school, asking to join a group assignment, only to be met with frightened stares.

“Don’t tell me this little lady is too intimidating for you?” Felix taunts. Still no one steps forwards. “Well, no wonder you were able to steal Brawn away from these ladies who are clearly too
chicken
to fight for his attention.” Felix wraps his arm around me. “How about any men? Any men out there wanting some action in the arena with
her
? I can’t guarantee Brawn won’t break your neck for it later … but—”

I grab the mike, holding it up to my mouth. “I’m pretty sure I could take care of that myself, Felix,” I say, my voice laced with cockiness, ready for a fight. Right now, I want to punch Jonas and Cade out, but I’ll settle for punching someone else instead.

“Ooh, did you hear that? Someone’s just begging to be taken down a notch.”

“I’ll do it,” comes a deep, slurring voice near the front of the stage. A group of rowdy males are pushing a guy towards the steps.

Felix leans in, whispering into my ear, “Might need to go easy on this one. He already looks a little wasted.”

“Yeah. Just a tad.”

“Are you any good, anyway? I heard you almost beat Ghost. That’s pretty impressive,” he says, still speaking quietly in my ear so now one else can hear.

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” I say with an arrogant smile.

Even though I’m pissed as hell Felix said all that stuff about me being Paxton James’s daughter, I know it wasn’t him. No, this has Jonas and Cade written all over it.

He nods to me and I go to my corner. The average-sized drunk takes to the stage, waving to the crowd as if he’s on a float in a parade.

“Only a few minutes before bets close, people. Who’s going to win? This guy … uh … what’s your name?” Felix leans in to the guy.

“Uh … umm … Knox,” he stammers.

“Well, there’s a fake name if I ever heard one. Who’s going to win? Heatwave or …
Knox
,” he says his name in a dismissive, mocking tone. “The newbie fighter or the drunk man. Then again, no one has seen Heatwave in action yet. She might suck at fighting. Knox here though, he looks pretty sturdy … maybe.”

Felix reaches over and tries to push Knox over in a playful manner. Knox wasn’t expecting it, and being a little drunk, he stumbles a bit, but not far.

“Yeah. You’ll do,” Felix says.

I was told this would happen. Felix is stalling for time. Betting is open before an opponent is chosen, but hardly anyone will take it because it’s risky—they don’t know what the challenger looks like or what their ability is.

As soon as an opponent is chosen, the bookies’ jobs get frantic. People only have a few minutes to sort their bets. Experienced punters will know which bookies to approach—who gives the better odds, who favours men versus women. I was told that because I’m a woman, unless another woman challenged me, the odds would most likely go in the challenger’s favour. Even with the drunkenness. Especially with the drunkenness, actually. Having a few drinks numbs the senses; they generally can’t tell when they’re in pain so they keep going, even if their coordination is a little off.

Sasha’s tried to explain the maths of it all, how odds are worked out, how much gets paid out and each cut. I lost her pretty quickly, and I still don’t understand most of it.

Felix takes Knox to his corner, still bantering with the audience, playing up the fight.

“What about this ability of yours? Want to show us what Heatwave’s up against?”

“Uh … okay.” Knox starts to take his shirt off.

“Whoa, getting naked is your ability?”

“Just wait,” Knox says, right before flexing his bicep. Without warning, his chest grows from average to almost double its size. His arms follow suit and then the rest of him, and suddenly I’m looking at someone who’ll give Brett a run for his money in the muscle department.

Oh, crap!

“Might want to adjust those odds,” Felix mutters to the crowd, no doubt giving the bookies an order.

I stand patiently in my corner, trying to regain some of my confidence that just took a major blow.

“Nuka,” I hear a yell from the ground below.

Brett’s on the side of the arena at my feet. I kneel down so I can hear him over the crowd.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m ready. He’s not that much bigger than you. I can take him.”
I think.

“I know. But are you
okay?
I seriously didn’t know he was going to bring up the dad thing.”

“Oh, that. I’ll be fine. Just make sure you get me to Cade and Jonas as soon as this fight’s over.”

“Done.”

“Okay, lovebirds,” Felix says into the microphone. “Geez, turn my back for two seconds and she’s already trying to escape into the arms of her boyfriend.”

Exaggeratedly, I roll my eyes at him with my hands on my hips.

“Bets are now closing, fighters take your stance.”

We meet in the middle of the arena, and it looks as though Knox is sweating bullets.

“Scared?” I ask, my tone mocking.

“Of you?” he scoffs.

“Oh, so you usually sweat this much?”

“It’s hot in here, okay?” he slurs.

After a couple more minutes of waiting around for the bets to close, there’s a loud ding of the bell that indicates the clock is ticking.  When Knox doesn’t make a move, I wave for him to come closer. “Come on. Time to hit me.”

This whole cocky act is kind of fun. When Cade told me I had to be confident and arrogant in the ring, I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off.
“Fake it ‘til you make it,”
she said. Whether it’s the crowd chanting “Heatwave” over and over again, the fact that my giant opponent looks terrified of me, or maybe it’s just the adrenaline giving me arrogance I need, I feel ready for this fight.

About a full minute goes by where we walk circles around each other, trying to suss each other out.

Knox finally charges towards me, but I’m too quick and easily step out of his way. I think his intention was to knock me on my ass. He quickly turns and tries to attack me from behind, but I elbow him in the face before he reaches me.

Stumbling backwards, he grabs hold of his nose and swears under his breath.

It takes about another minute for him to gain his composure back. He advances on me again, but I dodge his fist by ducking to my left and kicking out my right leg to meet his stomach.

It’s clear he has the muscles, but he doesn’t have the training.

While he’s still hunched over, I turn and land a heated left hook to his cheek and then a quick jab with my right hand into his throat.

At this moment, he decides he needs to grow again. He’s grabbing for his throat and trying to breathe, but suddenly he’s even bigger than he just was. He’s well over seven foot tall and wider than a friggin’ doorway.

Stumbling back in awe, I’m briefly overcome by fear. The crowd, which I’d basically blocked out until now, distracts me with their screams just long enough to not see the burly fist coming.

My body slams into the ground as an excruciating pain takes over my jaw and neck, but I know I need to get back up or this fight is over.