I’m feeling horrible about this, but I cannot lose. Keeping my fingers as stiff as I can, I slam them into his unprotected throat. Oh my god, that hurts so much! I’m pretty sure I broke at least one finger, but his pale face abruptly goes brick red and he falls sideways onto the mat, out like a light, still clutching his privates.
There’s no applause, not even a polite round of golf claps. I get it. This was all dirty, even here in combat there’s some code of honor about not trying to permanently damage anyone. But… there’s also not anything specific about not fighting dirty. Backing away, I hold up my rapidly swelling fingers.
Definitely broken.
“I told you to keep your fingers stiff on the throat punch,” Lucca whispers, holding my wrist and looking at the damage.
“You should check on Hiroto,” I said, feeling like pond scum right now. He’s still on the floor in the fetal position, but he’s groaning as he regains consciousness.
“Those kinds of moves are contemptible, Miss Aslanova,” Professor Zimmerman Is Not Pleased.
“I know, sir,” I said, “but you told me I had to be the last one standing. With a month’s preparation. Isn’t it one of your favorite sayings, to do whatever it takes to get out alive?”
His gaze travels from me to poor Hiroto, who’s writhing slowly, like a turtle flipped on his back.
“You pass,” he says reluctantly, and now there’s applause. Not a huge amount, but definitely there and I notice that Ania Jankowski is the one that started it. She nods to me and gives me a brief wink.
This might be the best day of my life.
Chapter Thirteen
In which Tatiana and Lucca celebrate. Hiroto eats muffins and cradles ice packs.
Lucca…
I don’t think I have ever seen anything as fucking hot as sweet Tatiana decimating Hiroto. And watching Zimmerman’s smirk slowly die was the second-best highlight of the day. He knew he couldn’t match her up with one of the very best fighters in class, it would have made his bias too obvious, but I’m sure he thought Hiroto would take her out within thirty seconds or so.
She’s trying not to wince or grin and failing at both as the class breaks into applause. Based on how badly her hand is swelling, she’s broken at least a couple of fingers, but I’m so damned proud of her.
“We should probably go get your hand looked at,” I said, grinning at her. “Keep your fingers rigid, remember?”
“Believe me,” she says, “I was trying.”
“You did so well, piccolo bacio, I’m proud of you.” I know we’ve just outed ourselves to the class, and with the gossip network as well-defined as the one here at the college, every student will know we’re together by dinner, but I can’t stop grinning as I kiss her forehead. If we were alone right now, I would have already ripped those tight bike shorts off her with my teeth and my face would be buried in her pussy.
“I think you should check on Hiroto,” she says, looking genuinely sorry as she gazes at him, curled up like a potato bug on the mat. Zimmerman’s already barking orders to a couple of his friends to pick him up off the floor and help him get checked out by Dr. Giardo.
“Let’s go ice your hand, maybe you won’t need to go to the clinic for a splint,” I said.
“Good,” she whispers, “because I feel bad enough about punching Hiroto in the groin. I don’t think he’s going to want to see me for a while.”
“Well, we both know the dick punch is your signature move,” I agree, making her slap her hand over her mouth to smother her laugh.
Tatiana…
“Behold our champion!” Mariya shoves open my door without knocking, holding up a bottle of champagne. “Our conquering hero!”
“Shhh…” I laugh, pulling her in and closing the door. “Taking away Hiroto’s ability to father children doesn’t seem like something we should be celebrating.”
“Don’t you dare!” She sternly points her finger at me. “Believe me, he would have given you the mother of all thrashings if he’d had a chance and you know it.”
“Probably,” I admit, “I asked one of his friends about his favorite things and he said that Hiroto loves these muffins the Emerald Bakery makes in Kilronan Village, so I got them to deliver a box of them here. Will you come with me to drop them off?”
“Yeah, he’s probably afraid to be alone with you right now,” she agrees.
The male students are in the other wing of the massive building, and I wonder which door is Lucca’s as we walk up to the fourth floor. When Mariya raises her middle finger to the second door on the right, I have my answer.
“Have you made up with Konstantin yet?” I ask as she turns, walking backward so she can keep flipping off the door. “Never mind, I think your actions speak for themselves.”
At Hiroto’s door, I suck in a deep breath before knocking.
“I hope he doesn’t keep a gun in his room,” Mariya mumbles as the door swings open.
His roommate gives us a long look, grinning. “Which one of you is the crazy bitch who knocked my boy’s nuts up into his throat?”
Wincing, I said, “Is he here? I have a peace offering.”
“Yeah, he’s on the couch,” he opens the door wider and I see Hiroto sitting there glumly, an ice pack on his crotch and one on the back of his neck. I wince when I see the huge purple bruise spreading across his throat.
Glancing up, he groaned. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I, uh, I wanted to apologize,” I said, thrusting out the muffins awkwardly. “I heard you like these, so…” When he doesn’t reach out for them, I put them on the coffee table in front of him. His roommate grabs one as Hiroto glares at me. “Really, I’m sorry. I had to pass that test, and I-”
“I get it,” he interrupted. “I do. But fuck you.”
“That’s fair,” I nod rapidly. His eyes are glassy and I lean closer. “Did Dr. Giardo give you his night-night pills?”
“Yeah,” he said, “and fuck you.”
“Um, I have some left over from when Jankowski gave me that beatdown.” Pulling the bottle out of my pocket, I set it down next to the muffins. “In case you need more.”
“Okay,” Hiroto is rubbing his eyes. “Fuck you.”
“Understood,” I said, backing towards the door, “I’ll just see you later, then.”
“Thank you for the muffins,” he groans, “and fuck you.”
“That went well,” Mariya said brightly.
“I appreciate your optimistic nature,” I said sourly, heading back down the hall. As we pass the second door on the right, it opens, Lucca steps out and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder.
“Do you mind if I borrow Tatiana?” he calls over to Mariya, who is grinning at this new development.
“No problem,” she chuckles, but her smile drops instantly as Konstantin holds the door for Lucca, who is still carrying me like a sack of flour.
“Great. Konstantin is going to walk you back to your suite,” he says, shutting the door, which is not thick enough to muffle their instant bickering.
“Smooth, very smooth,” I laugh, “can you put me down? All the blood is rushing to my head.” When he does, I find a table in front of the fireplace, nicely set with room service silver, crystal goblets and two covered plates. “What’s all this?” I ask.
He gifts me with another one of his beautiful smiles. “We have to celebrate, what you did today was fucking amazing.”