“Greetings, Chosen. I am sure you are wondering why you are here, instead of where the Goddess Sola deigned to send you. Allow me to answer that question.
You have all been selected as Sword Saint candidates. That is to say, our great nation has pulled you all from your destined route to better serve the Emperor as more than mere Chosen. You will all be something greater, forged into the glorious sword our empire needs to strike back at those that would take from us. Now, pick up the weapons at your feet.
When one hundred of you remain, we can move onward to the next step.”
“What are you drinking?” A voice to my left asked loudly, husky and charming, and I glanced out of the corner of my eyes to see a pretty woman with wavy, shoulder length brown hair. She was wearing a white shirt cropped just a little above her belly button, exposing tanned skin and a flat stomach, with a jean-skirt that rode just above her midthigh. Her eyes were a bright hazel that sparkled in the flashing lights of the club, and the teeth in her smile sparkled even more.
I brought my drink to my lips, making sure to show off the ring on my finger while I did so. Her eyes lingered on it for a second, then she flashed her own ring back at me. “What are you drinking?” She repeated, her smile deepening.
I raised an eyebrow, then downed my drink. The alcohol burned my throat as I swallowed it, that fiery sensation slowly warming up my chest as it flowed down to the pit of my stomach. “Whiskey, straight.” I said finally, the music nearly drowning my voice out. I set my glass down and leaned against the counter, turning to take her in fully.
She was pretty, with minimal makeup on, mostly eyeshadow that highlighted the natural size of her eyes and a little bit of mascara. The flashing red, blue, and purple lights made her expression appear coy, and the way her eyes twinkled with her smile lent her a mischievousness that bordered on devious.
She nodded, then turned towards the bar, raising her hand as she did. Lisa noticed her hand and made her way over to us, strumming her fingers on the counter as she did so. “What can I get you?” She asked, blonde hair up in a bun and green eyes changing color with the strobing lights. The girl glanced at me and winked, turning back to Lisa.
“A strawberry daiquiri and whiskey straight, please.” She ordered, causing Lisa to raise her eyebrows at me. I shrugged, and she mimicked the motion.
“Coming right up.” With that she started mixing drinks, and while she did the girl sidled up closer to me.
“So, where’s the lucky Mrs that managed to snag you?” She asked, resting her chin on her hand. “Not here, I hope?”
I smiled a little, not oblivious to the fact that she had pocketed the ring on her own finger. “No, she isn’t here. I’m just out to enjoy the view.” I answered, eliciting a laugh from her as I looked towards the girls dancing on the poles, thongs and bras teeming with bills as men whistled and tossed more onto the floor. “How about you,” I turned back towards her, “what are you doing here?”
The smile dimmed, and just as it looked like she was about to reply Lisa pushed our drinks towards us. “Here you are.”
I grabbed the glass, filled most of the way with amber liquid that glowed in the lights of the club as the woman did the same, and we brought our glasses together with a clink after she put some cash on the counter, which Lisa pocketed smoothly. “Name’s Jason.” I said, and drank more than half of what was in the glass, the whiskey going down much more smoothly than it had before.
She sipped on her daiquiri through a straw, closing her eyes in bliss from the taste. I couldn’t blame her. If there was one thing Lisa knew how to do, it was mix a good drink.
“Anya.” She finally managed, setting her drink down. I followed suit, and gestured to her now ringless fingers.
“Nice to meet you, Anya. So how about you? Where’s the husband? Surely not staying at home, missing out on your company?” I asked, and she shook her head, stabbing at her drink with her straw.
“Dunno. Probably off with his secretary.” She chuckled hollowly, bitterness in her tone.
I studied her face. Saw the nearly concealed - but unmistakable - glow of anger and betrayal in those pretty eyes, and my next words came out before I could stop them.
“That’s a shame. Guys like me might end up getting the wrong idea, maybe suggest we go back to my place, if you approach me like this.” I said, and she laughed, high and clear, her smile back.
“Oh yeah? And what are ‘guys like you’?” She smirked, eyes glinting with mirth, and I felt a smile of my own tugging at my lips.
I leaned in close, until my lips were just grazing her ear. “Dangerous.” I murmured, feeling her body shiver against my cheek as I pulled away. When I got a full view of her face again I saw that her cheeks and neck were a little flushed, and I knew it wasn’t just from her drink. We looked at each other a few moments more, until I heard loud cursing somewhere off to my right.
“Get the fuck off of me!” Someone shouted, and I turned to see one of the dancers storm out of a private booth, trying to pry off the hand of the man who followed her. His steps were unsteady, obviously drunk, but even from here I could see that his grip on the girl was strong. My eyes flicked from his face to hers, and I frowned when I realized that I recognized her.
“Jace.” Lisa urged, now behind me.
“It’s my day off.” I grumbled, glancing over my shoulder, and she nodded apologetically.
“I know, but Derek’s outside and Gavon is with Mr. Lee. Sorry, but could you handle this? I’ll make your next couple of drinks on the house.” She pleaded, and I sighed, standing up.
“Fine, fine. I’ll handle it.” I said reluctantly, then looked at Anya. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”
She looked between the both of us, obviously confused, but shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not like I’ll be going anywhere.” She said, then gave me a wink. “Not without you at least.”
I returned her smile, but dropped it as I faced the man and the dancer. Walking towards them, I set my jaw and rolled back my shoulders. Time to deal with this particular problem.
“Get the fuck back here. I paid for my time, and you’re going t-” His voice cut off as he noticed me approaching, his scowl growing deeper as he eyed me up and down. His hair was disheveled, belt loose and shirt unbuttoned. Beck’s - the dancer- face lit up as she saw me.
“Jace!” She breathed in relief, then winced and scowled as the man’s grip tightened around her arm. He attempted to wrench her back towards him but I grabbed her other arm, firm but not too much so, and slid my other hand over his. I pressed my thumb into his wrist, and he let her go with a yelp, yanking his hand away.
“What’s the problem.” I asked her, but kept my eyes on him as he glared at both of us.
“He fucking bit me!” She exclaimed, pointing at her shoulder, and sure enough there were clear teeth marks indented in her skin right around her collarbone. I raised an eyebrow, looking at him.
“Well, can’t say that’s happened here before. Guess we’ll have to add that to the rules.” I muttered. Shaking my head, I bent down to her ear. “Go and tell Mr. Lee. I’ll take care of this.”
“Thanks Jace.” She whispered gratefully, then glared at the man and flipped him off before spinning around and walking towards the back of the club. I watched her go, keeping the man in my peripheral, making sure she made it to the hallway that led to Mr. Lee’s office before facing the man again.
He wasn’t small by any means, but he was still a few inches shorter than me. I could see a clearly defined chest underneath his unbuttoned shirt, and I shook my head ruefully. What had been going through his mind that caused him to bite one of our dancers?
“Alright bud,” I began loudly, crossing my arms over my chest, “you knew the rules regarding entertainment. I know you knew the rules because Derek, the one who let you in, is a real stickler about them. You’ve broken nearly every one of them, and now you’re probably going to make us enforce a new rule. I don’t like being forced to make new rules.” As I talked I moved closer to him, until I was looking down into his eyes, my elbows almost brushing against his chest now. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
His eyes were just a little too unfocused for me to be confident he had caught everything I said, and the sneer on his face told me he was a little too drunk to realize that he was about to do something very stupid.
“And what if I don’t want to?” He asked, puffing up his chest. It was almost laughable, because no matter how you looked at it, I was definitely bigger all around.
I sighed. He was going to make this annoying. “Sir.” I said, uncrossing my arms. “I’m going to politely ask you one more time to leave. If you don’t, the next time won’t be very polite.”
He looked me up and down slowly, taking a step back as he did so. I saw the punch before he even threw it. The way his weight shifted onto his other foot, the subtle changes in his facial expression, his body twisting before his shoulder raised ever so slightly. Alright, the annoying way it was then.
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I didn’t dodge the punch. I probably should’ve. I definitely could have. But I was in a good mood, so I figured I’d let him get one solid punch in. His fist connected with my cheek, and my head snapped to the side as pain laced through my skull, fiery hot and throbbing from where his knuckles had landed. I quickly worked my tongue through my mouth, but tasted nothing. Good. I would have been pissed if he had made me bleed.
I opened and closed my jaw a few times, relishing the splinters of dull pain it sent through my cheek, and turned to look at him again. “That was a good punch.” I complimented him, and it honestly was. “But it’s time for you to go now.”
Quicker than his alcohol-addled mind could react, my right hand was around the back of his neck, and he yelped as my fingers dug into the pressure points located on either side, my left hand closing around his bicep. I steered him through the crowd that had gathered to watch the show, though it was more akin to dragging a sack of grain than guiding a person. I saw Becky smiling with smug satisfaction one more time before I all but dragged him through the doors of our entrance and tossed him down the steps onto the street, the music of the club that drifted out of the doors being quickly swallowed by the nightlife sounds of the city.
He landed in an ungraceful heap on the pavement, groaning and cursing but ultimately staying down. I turned to the side and saw Derek leaned up against the brick wall of our building, a lit cigarette in his hand and eyebrows raised.
“Derek.” I greeted him with a nod.
“Jason.” He greeted back. He was a big man, a few inches taller than I was and at least twenty pounds heavier. He was pale, with dark brown hair cut in a medium fade with more than a little extra on top, very similar to my own style. Chocolate brown eyes flicked from me to the man sprawled in a heap on the sidewalk. “Asshole?” Was all he asked in his deep, gravelly voice, gesturing with his cigarette to the man.
“Asshole.” I confirmed, and he sighed. He flicked his cigarette to the side, walking over to the man and squatting down.
“‘Scuse me sir, I’m going to need to see your ID.” He said, patting the man’s shoulder. The man cursed at him, but once he saw how big he was he hurriedly flipped over onto his side and pulled his wallet out, showing it to him. Derek studied it for a moment before nodding.
He stood up and walked past me, heading inside. After a few moments he came back out, looking at the cigarette he had flicked away regretfully. “Waste of a cig.” He muttered, then looked at me. “Angie blacklisted him. Thanks Jace.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and went back inside, once more blanketed by the pumping music of the club. Angie flashed me a smile from over her desk in the front booth, and I nodded back, walking into the club.
Everything was back to normal, people dancing and chatting on the side as the entertainers continued their work on the poles. I walked through the crowd, making my way back to the bar where I saw Lisa and Anya talking, Anya sitting on a stool and sipping on her drink, giggling as Lisa bent over the counter and said something in her ear.
I slid into my seat next to them, just as someone a little further down raised their hand, trying to flag down Lisa. She straightened up, giving me what I guess was supposed to be a meaningful look before walking away.
“Sorry about that.” I said, raising my glass to my face. It was cool against my hot cheek, and I relished the comfort it brought. “Where were we?”
She smiled as she set her drink down again, the look she was giving me slightly different than before.
“So, I take it you work here?” She questioned playfully, making a point to look at my cheek.
I smiled at her, lowering my hand to take a sip from my drink. “I guess you could say that. Today was supposed to be my day off, but… well, you saw.”
“I did, I did.” She laughed. “So, is that what you meant when you said that men like you were dangerous?”
“Not quite. I was referring to something a little different when I said that.” As I was talking a cheer sprang up to my right, and I looked over to see one of the dancers had flipped herself upside down on the pole, spinning around it slowly with her legs spread out. I felt a soft hand on my forearm, and turned back to see her fingers there, lightly caressing my scars, before they trailed down to my hand. I looked up and saw her eyes crinkled in a deep smile, biting her lower lip.
“Is that so?” She said quietly, leaning in until her lips were almost touching mine. Her breath brushed past my cheek, tantalizingly sweet. “Maybe you could show me? I’m more of a physical learner, you know. And I have all night to learn.”
I felt my own smile widen as I looked down at her, drawn into her eyes. “Well then you’re in luck.” I chuckled, setting down my drink. “I’m a great teacher.”
I stared up at the ceiling of my room, absentmindedly watching the shadows dance across it as the moon glowed through the branches of the tree outside of my window. Anya was asleep, head nestled between my chest and shoulder, one leg twined through mine, her breaths deep and even. She felt soft against me, her body warm underneath my blanket. Her presence comforted me for a time, but in the quiet darkness of my room I began to drown in my own thoughts, stuck between feeling guilty and rationalizing that there wasn’t any real reason to feel guilty.
This always happened. I didn’t know why I had thought tonight would be any different. For a few blissful hours I managed to forget about her, to somehow fill the hole left behind in her absence. But always the ache would return. Always I would think about her being the one lying next to me, peacefully resting, our breathing synced together as we slept. Al-
I was snapped out of my thoughts by a loud sigh, and I felt Anya’s nails tracing small circles on my chest.
“You’ve been doing that for a while now.” She murmured, and I realized that I had been twisting my ring around my finger. I stopped, putting my left hand on her head and lightly scratching her scalp.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
She shook her head, her nails now stroking a line down my stomach. “The bartender...”
“Lisa.”
“Right, Lisa. She said you two were roommates?”
“Mmmhmm.” I affirmed, moving my hand from petting her head to her shoulder, stroking her soft tanned skin with my thumb. I looked down, and though the blanket covered most of us, I could still see her body pressed against mine, so small compared to my own. Flashes of our night played through my mind, and despite myself a smile tugged on my lips. “Why do you ask?”
“Well…” She began, but trailed off, as if unsure of herself. But she continued. “Your ring… you’re married, right?”
I let out a sigh, still stroking my thumb on her shoulder. “I was, a few years ago.” I said quietly.
She nodded again, now laying her hand flat on my stomach. She looked up at me, hazel eyes glowing in the moonlight, cheek pressed against my chest. “Are you two separated?” She asked hesitantly, and I shook my head.
“Widowed.” I whispered softly, causing her to bite her lip and look back down.
She didn’t say anything. Didn’t offer any condolences, didn’t say sorry, just resumed trailing her nails up and down my body. I appreciated it, was grateful for it. Too many times people felt the need to talk after I mentioned being widowed, as if afraid that if they didn’t I’d have a breakdown. But silence… silence was the best. Respectful silence said so much more than any amount of pity could.
After a long period of time of us staying like that, her quietly stroking my chest and stomach and me enjoying the feeling of her body against mine, my own curiosity finally got the better of me.
“You’re married as well, right? Why were you in the club?” I asked.
Her hand stopped, right below my sternum, and this time it was her turn to sigh. I noticed that her hair had slipped to the front of her face, so I brushed it behind her ear, waiting for her to speak.
“A little while ago, my husband and I had a fight.” She began, her voice soft and whispery. “Something that had started just because he hadn’t done the laundry. It had been the one thing I asked him to do while I went to work. I didn’t feel like it was anything too major, and I understood that it was his day off, but all he had to do was start it and rotate it a few times. I had even said that I’d fold it when I got back, so he didn’t even have to do that. All he had to do was start it. But I got back from work, and he was laying on the couch. He wasn’t watching TV, wasn’t on his phone. He was just laying there, staring up at the ceiling, and the laundry hadn’t been touched. I don’t know if it was because I was tired, or if I’d had a bad day at work, or...” Her voice trailed off, and I felt her hand clench on my chest.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me, but... I just started screaming at him. Screaming, and screaming, and screaming. He’d forgotten about our anniversary the month prior, and it felt like he had been getting more and more distant, and cold. He was cold to me all of the time. It all just kind of came out of me at once, and I remember…” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I distinctly remember that he hadn’t even moved from his spot on the couch. He was listening to me vent, just taking everything in silence, all while looking up at the ceiling.”
I listened to her without saying a word, my hand now on her back, my fingers trailing up and down her spine as she talked.
“Anyways, I went up to our room after that. I stayed in there for hours, replaying everything I said back in my head, and as I did I started to feel like a real bitch. He had been busy with work the past couple of weeks, and it had been his first real day off in a while. He might have just been exhausted. And what was an anniversary? He had remembered Valentine’s day, and he had remembered my birthday. So what if he had forgotten our anniversary? I was acting like some crazy psycho bitch of a wife. So I went back downstairs to apologize.” She laughed then, an empty, bitter laugh that practically dripped with pain and condescension.
“He was still sitting on the couch, but he was on his phone, texting someone. He didn’t even look at me. I waited for him to finish texting whoever it was. I was so meek and cowed immediately after seeing him again. I was already thinking of all the ways I was going to say sorry. And then he looked up at me, and do you know what he said?” Her voice was shaky now, thick with emotion. “He stared directly into my eyes and, without even blinking, said ‘I’m sleeping with my secretary. I’m going to go to her place for a few days.’”
I felt her shoulders start trembling, but if it hadn’t been for the growing pool of tears on my chest, or the occasional sniffle I heard, I would have never known she was crying. I wrapped both of my arms around her and squeezed, pulling her in tight, and she finally began openly sobbing. For a while I didn’t say anything, just put my lips on the top of her head and rubbed her back with one of my hands, until her tears stopped, and her choking sobs turned back into quiet sniffling.
“You know,” I said, looking down at her, her hands balled up against my chest and face hidden beneath her hair and my arms, “your husband sounds like a real cunt.”
She gave a breathy laugh, sniffled, then laughed harder. The process repeated a few times, until she looked up at me. Her eyes were red and puffy, with tear stains on her cheeks, but she had a bright smile on her face.
“You’re right.” She agreed, still laughing. “He’s a huge cunt.”
I rolled onto my back, bringing her with me so that she was laying on top of me. I brushed the tears away from the corners of her eyes with my thumbs, then grabbed a blanket and wiped her tears off of my chest.
“Sorry.” She said sheepishly, helping me. “I didn’t mean to cry all over you, or make a mess on your sheets. I guess I’m not really good at the whole ‘one night stand’ thing.”
I looked up at her and raised my eyebrows. “No? Could have fooled me. Besides, I was going to have to wash the sheets anyways. We did plenty in the ways of mess making before you started crying.”
“Oh what-ever.” She grumbled, rolling her eyes and ineffectively slapping my chest, but she couldn’t hide the way the corners of her mouth tugged upward, or her neck and cheeks growing just a touch more red. She kissed my chest, then laid her chin on it, looking into my eyes. Hers had that glint of mirth back in them, the hazel glowing in the low light of my room. “Anyways, I guess I was in the club because I needed a distraction. Something to get me out of my own head, help me forget and stop thinking for a little while.”
I put a hand on the back of her head and kissed her. “Would you say I was a good distraction?” I asked, pulling away slowly. Her lips followed me, before lowering to peck at my chest again.
“I’d say you were a great distraction.” She murmured, grinning. “But you know, you lied to me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how’s that?”
Her grin widened, eyes twinkling and fingers strumming my chest. “You said you were dangerous, but all I’ve seen so far is a big ol’ softie.” She hummed teasingly, then yelped as I flipped her over, pressing her into the bed underneath me.
I put my lips against the nape of her neck. “Is that so?” I breathed, and I heard her gasp as I lowered my waist to grind against hers. “Perhaps you need another lesson?”
I pulled my face away, hearing her giggle turn into a gasp once again as my hand closed around her throat.