Fight Me ||Zayn Malik au

Chapter Five

Zayn's POV

-Wow that media though!! Onward!

Twice in the same week this girl was sprinting off of a mat and away from me, the only difference was this time I was hot on her heels. She dropped to her knees and slid under the ropes of the ring before diving into the panicking crowd. The lights were down low, no one could see us leaving the ring as they tried to get out before the police arrested them. They wouldn't arrest the civilians, that wasn't why they raided, they were after the fighters and the Board. Everything we were doing was definitely illegal, harmless usually, but still its illegal street fighting, technically. I should be running from the police, ducking into the locker room to grab my bag and then racing to my car but I know that Liam will have grabbed all the things I could be identified by and gotten out by now. For a moment I thought Heath, well I guess Heather, was going toward the locker rooms but she veered left at the last second in the hallway and was tearing off toward the back exit. There were many ways out of the Underground, enough that the police couldn't possibly know about them all but few enough that they could cover the ones they did know about and if she burst through that door before checking to see if there were police she could be caught for sure.

"Heather!" I screamed, then inwardly scolded myself because Heather obviously wasn't just running from the police. She looked innocent enough and could get out of their suspicions easily but they were the least of her problems. The Board could have seen her, could have seen the wig get knocked from her head and her true gender revealed. Heather was gambling, big time, girls weren't allowed to fight in this league; they had their own league but it wasn't as big or renowned as the male league. Why she was fighting in the men's league was a mystery but she could be killed for this, people who cross the league rarely live.

She didn't stop so I poured on the speed, my muscles screaming in protest, as they were still exhausted from the interrupted fight. Just before she burst out the door I grabbed her arm and yanked her back into my chest. She whimpered, tears leaking down her face and the anger in her eyes showed she hated crying and that quickly transferred to her limbs. She swung her arms and thrashed about, trying to free herself but I had sheer size on my side. Heather wouldn't look me in the eye, but why would she? I am a stranger to her right now with the blond hair and my tattoos covered; I even had green contacts in just to help with the disguise. She couldn't tell that I was the one who had been watching her as she laughed at all of my best friend's lame jokes or who had been laughing softly at her lame jokes. Heather couldn't tell it was me and she wouldn't recognize my voice because I never spoke to her. She was Harry's and off limits to me and I had decided the only pull I felt to her was because she reminded me of the fighter I had seen that night in the gym.

Wow, how ironic is that?

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't see her position her knee just right before jamming it where the sun don't shine. I groaned, my knees starting to buckle and my grip on her loosening. Taking the opportunity, Heather burst through the door and was out into the ally before I could straighten up. I tried to bury my pain as best I could and started to chase her again, I wanted to tell her I didn't mean her any harm. Her hair was flowing out behind her, the tennis shoes she wore slapping hard against the asphalt and I became dimly aware that it was raining. The water droplets pounded against my exposed chest and soaked my hair, I felt something sticky running down my face and when I went to wipe it away my hand came back with blond dye on it. This gave me an idea.

I stopped chasing her for a moment, letting my muscles breath and removed the contacts from my eyes and scrubbed the tattoo gel from my arms. If I could get her to see that she knew me, maybe she would at least stop running and let me help her. I snuck a glance up before taking off again, faster than before because she was far ahead but starting to falter in her stamina. She was stumbling and tripping, fatigue settling into her skin and I felt the same but pushed it far from my mind. Using the jubilation I feel from finally finding the fighter again to push myself faster and I was about to catch her when she darted into a busy street. Once again I called to her, and again, I wished I hadn't.