“Toscano! Hold up.” He points to The Barrens and I see Tatiana veer off course, running over to Liam. She takes an impressive side shot, knocking over another player without breaking stride. Kneeling next to him, she pulls off her tank top, pressing it against his neck.
“Der'mo, shit!” I groaned, “She’s trying to drag him out, she’s going to get pummeled with paint bullets.”
“That’s pretty cool, though,” Aleks says, “didn’t you do something similar last year during the mid-winter challenge?”
“That was different,” I said tersely. Folding my arms, I try to look calm, like a leader though I want to vault over this fucking stand and knock the heads off two of Mateo’s players. They’re creeping up on Tatiana, who is still dragging Liam. They step into the path at the same time, one behind her and the other in front.
At first, I’m not sure if Liam collapsed and knocked Tatiana down until I realize she dropped to the ground so that Mateo’s two players would shoot each other in the chest. They’re both flat on their backs and Tati’s back up and heading for the finish. She knocks another player out of their way with a shot to the thigh and they’re across the line. I’m about to roar in triumph when Schmidt races up, shooting Tatiana in the back, knocking her forward into the dirt.
A chorus of shouts and booing rises from the stands as I push past the other students, trying to get to her and Liam.
“Are you all right?” It’s that slick bastard Ronan Cox, dropping his rifle to kneel by Tatiana, trying to help her up.
“I’m fine,” she shrugs, self-consciously wiping at the blood streaming from her nose. “Liam needs help, though.”
Cox hasn’t bothered to look at her bloody teammate, still holding her shoulders.
“Move, both of you.” Dr. Giardo pushes between them to get a look at Liam, still holding Tatiana’s tank top against the wound on his neck. I realize that my girl is standing there in her sports bra and pull off my jacket, putting it over her shoulders.
“Toscano wins the first Leaders challenge of the year!” Dean Christie shouts, firing off her pistol again. Five times. The woman loves her bullets.
“That’s bullshit!” Mateo shouts, “Aslanova was disqualified! You can see my team’s paint color all over her back!”
Professor Suarez steps up. “I saw your player take the shot,” he said coldly. “She was almost two meters past the finish line when he shot her in the back.”
“I didn’t see her pass the finish line,” Schmidt says with a grin that I’m going to punch off his fucking face.
“You lying asshole,” I snarled.
“It’s okay,” Tatiana interrupts us. “Lucca, can you help me give our equipment back to the groundskeeper?”
“Let Dr. Giardo check you first,” I said, softening at the grin on her dirty face.
“It’s okay,” she shrugs, then winces. Those paint bullets hurt like hell, and she wasn’t wearing her jacket, which would have at least given her some protection.
“How are you doing, brother?” I ask Liam, who’s tilting his head so Dr. Giardo can clean the wound.
“I’ll be fine,” he groans.
The rest of the team crowds around us, cheering, and slapping each other on the backs. Tatiana sidesteps a back-slapping attempt by Jun, who puts up his hand in apology. “Sorry!”
“Drinks at my place tonight!” I shout. I say it just to get them the hell out of my way so I can get Tatiana somewhere quiet and check her back.
Tatiana…
Lucca should be happy that we won the challenge, but he looks furious, glaring at Mateo, Schmidt, and even poor Jun who just tried to slap me on the back to congratulate me.
“What’s the matter with you?” I ask as he’s hustling me down the path. “We won!”
“That fucking prick shot you in the back,” he snarls, “you were over the finish line and halfway across the fucking campus before he fired on you.”
“Okay, wait- Lucca- I’m serious, stop dragging me!” I have to yank on his arm before he’s willing to look at me. “You can’t be surprised that Mateo’s people are back-stabbing, I mean, back-shooting dickheads. That’s part of the deal here. I’m going to have a huge bruise and based on my recent injury inventory, that’s not too bad.” He’s staring down at me, brow furrowed. Putting my hands on his shoulders, I shake him gently. “We won! This is such a great thing!”
“You got hurt,” he insists, shaking his head.
“How are you going to send your people into danger if you freak out every time they’re injured?” I said. “Part of being a leader is picking the best man - or woman - for the job and knowing they might get hurt.”
“I’m not-” he presses his lips together.
“You are a leader, velikolepnyy. You may not be first-born, but they see you for what you are here, a leader,” I insist. “So change your thinking.”
A slow smile spreads across his full mouth. “You’re calling me gorgeous?”
“You know Russian?”
He chuckles, kissing me, “I’ve been roommates with Konstantin for over two years. Of course, I had to learn it.”
“Good, velikolepnyy, because you are,” I said, beaming up at him. Feeling a little daring, I add, “Didn’t you promise me something if I won today?”
Lucca bursts into laughter, which does not make me feel sexy and daring at all. “I plan to spend most of tonight with my mouth and my cock buried in that tight pussy,” he purrs, “but first, why don’t we get the blood off your face and make sure you didn’t break your nose in that fall, eh?”
Chapter Twenty
In which justice is served. With a side of power tools.
Tatiana…
The moment I open my eyes, I really, really wish I hadn’t.
Someone is jabbing a screwdriver into my skull and something smells like a dumpster, and I suspect that something might be me.
“I think a rat crawled into my mouth and made my tongue its final resting place.” It’s Mariya.
Rolling over with a moan, I find her next to me in bed. She’s wearing clothes, thank god, and so am I. “This isn’t my bed,” I whine.
“We’re in Lucca’s bedroom, I think,” she groans, “I’m going to have to renounce my Russian heritage. I’m so hung over. I want to die.”
“There was… we won, right?” I touch my finger to my tongue which feels too big for my mouth and dry. Dry as dust. “Where is he?”
“He went out to pick up some pain meds for everyone.” A hoarse voice pipes up from the floor on Mariya’s side of the bed.
“Who’s that?” I said.
“Kon,” the disembodied voice says, “I wasn’t going to let my fiancée sleep in another man’s bed.”
“What’s wrong with your bed?” Mariya’s almost unintelligible, her face smushed against the pillow she’s too weak to move from.
“Fucking Liam O’Neill hosed the entire bed with puke,” he said, finally sitting up and trying to focus on us. “Fucking Irishman, ‘I can hold my fuckin’ liquor’ O’Neill!”
I want to laugh but I know it would hurt so much.
The door opens and in strolls Lucca. He looks rough, like he’s been rolling around in the woods wrestling wolverines.
God, he looks so hot right now.
“Hey baby, how are you doing?” I can tell he’s trying not to laugh and I want to hit him but that would involve moving which might kill me right now. Opening a bottle, he taps three pills in my hand and holds a water bottle up to my mouth. “C’mon, you’ll feel better once these get in your system.”
He holds the bottle for me until my pathetic self can swallow enough water to get the pills down. I sigh with relief when he cups my cheek. “You feel nice and cool. Please don’t move.”