The racer’s gaze bopped between me and the spot on the stage that would give her optimum advantage in the race.
This kid really thinks she has a shot.
“Um, okay. Maybe I will.” She stepped forward. “Thanks so much.” One of the tinier cameras hidden on the stage zoomed in on her hesitant smile. Her innocent beauty would take her far.
But not today.
“No problem.” I stifled my sigh and stood behind the pretty blonde. Always hyper-aware of the damn cameras, I directed an exaggerated wink at the whirling lenses. In seconds, my face was splashed over every screen in the arena. The crowd exploded in laughter, and the newbie frowned in confusion.
Gotta give the people what they want.
Too bad the cheers only made me feel hollow. I’d ponder the dramatics of that last thought after I aced this course. In the meantime, my shoulder screamed in pain. I’d pushed it too far in the pre-quals. I placed my hands on my hips to hide the quiver.This is it.My last chance and the only hope Valentina and I had to make it out of this barren wasteland. Nothing ranked lower than New Angeles.
You either fought or fucked your way out, and not many were lining up to hit the sheets with my sarcastic ass.
Shaking off the negative energy, I used my remaining seconds to study today’s course. It changed depending on the race. I would have to conquer the Net Hang, the Twisted Wall, and the Log Roll. The deadly obstacles wrapped around the curved edges of the massive stadium. One long mile of full-contact, balls-to-the-wall, anarchy.
The only rule: Everyone’s got to leave the ring with a pulse. A really faint one, but a pulse, nonetheless. You can take out an opponent—but not permanently.
A wicked grin split my face, and for the first time, it was genuine. I excelled at all three challenges because they allowed me to get up close and personalwith my fists.
Gracias, Dios.It took seconds to plot a course, each step burned into my brain.Drop down, dash forward, run up the steps, swing off the—
Bam! The simulated pistol fired.
I grabbed the newbie by the shoulders and shoved her off the balcony. I jumped after her and landed on her back.
“Oomph.” She smashed, face-first, into a pile of sand.
“Sorry,corazón.” I launched off and raced toward the Net Hang.
“No, you’renot,” she sobbed, digging dirt out of her eyes.
Not true.But the lesson had been delivered:Never trust a big butt and a smile.Or maybe, more importantly,Every woman for herself.The sooner she learned, the faster she would win.
“Told you so,” Nieve cackled as she sprinted ahead. She and Querida, the fastest in the pack, beat me to the first leg.
I’m so damn tired of seeing the back of their heads.
I protected my shoulder as I barreled down the field. Task after task, they stayed just ahead of me. They had the speed; I had the muscle. I made it to the base of the last obstacle. Nieve’s lightning kick had put me in the hospital last year, almost costing me my career and any chance at a real life. I ducked before she planted her spiked shoe in my face.
“Pobrecita.You’re getting slow in your old age.” I blew her a kiss as a camera focused in.
“We’re the same age!” Nieve glared down at me. Big mistake. She missed the last step and tripped at the top of the rope ladder.
My shoulder burned as I climbed, determined to take advantage of her error. Despite the pain, I latched onto her ankle and yanked with all my might.
Nieve fought for purchase, but her weak grip was no match for my full-body assault. Her glossy curls danced as she plummeted to the ground. If she were lucky, she’d only break a few bones.
People weredefinitelythe worst.
I should know.I’m the baddest bitch of them all.
I took off after my remaining competition. Querida was a handspan away as we raced toward the finish line. I was inches from her when she stumbled to a halt. I flew past, my injuries forgotten. Victory was only yards away, and the pure elation of my win kept me from analyzing why my opponent had stopped. I pumped my arms and dug deep as I ran to my destiny.
A fierce clap of thunder blasted through the stands, breaking through my haze of triumph. I looked up. Directly above me, a glowing dust cloud hovered over the arena. The cameras’ microphones amplified the cheering onlookers’ high-pitched screeches. I stumbled but kept racing.
I’d never seen a storm travel so quickly. Rainstorms in New Angeles were common, but this wall of clouds had an eerie pulse, with neon thunderbolts shooting from every direction. A powerful missile of light hit the main stage. It collapsed into a heap of stone and wood, caving in on the awaiting officials.
