chapter two- mia

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Chapter Two

I've watched people die. Day in and day out there are fights, fists flying, blood spewing from desperate mouths gasping for air. Bones crunch, crack. Voices cry out, cheer, and everything in between. Bodies crash to the concrete floor and it takes everything in me not to scream and get them to stop before it gets ugly.

Five is Thomas's body count, at least from what I've watched with my own eyes. That's five different people he's killed in front of me. I can only imagine how many lives have been lost when I'm not around. Men, some younger than others, no older than me, fight until they can't anymore. Sometimes that means they never open their eyes again.

I know the fighter in the ring. I know him in the abstract way you know a passing face, the way you know a stranger. I can fill in a narrative for him, much like I do with other fighters and runners for Thomas's empire.

Some are here for the hell of it, some because they had nowhere else to go, some because this is the closest thing they get to a family. And money. Drugs. Those are the big ones. The motive is unimportant in the grand scheme, though. They're all here, and they all do terrible things.

But this guy isn't like the others. I know that much to be true, even if he's unreadable. I can't make an assumption about his life because it doesn't feel right.

He's Wade Valdez. Early twenties, maybe? That's all I can gather at this point.

I take in his appearance: amber eyes and wild black hair, his olive skin peppered with bruises. He looks like hell. It's fitting considering Purgatory is much like the real thing.

And he gets his ass kicked.

I don't know why I intervene, but I know that I'll be wracked with guilt if the body count becomes six. So I stop the fight, watching them streak blood across the floor as they drag him away.

Thomas chuckles. "It was getting interesting, sis. Don't ruin the fun."

"You would've killed him," I hiss through gritted teeth, wondering if he can hear me over the shouts of people waiting for another fight.

Thomas has a dangerous look as he waves his hand dismissively. "Wade will be fine. Just wait, he'll be back and making a run by dawn."

I shudder as I sink back into my chair. Thomas wanted me here tonight. He never said why, but I've learned not to question him. Sometimes he likes having me around like a pet and not his sister. I have school tomorrow, but he couldn't care less. He dropped out years ago.

Even still, I decide to use that as an excuse to leave.

I swiftly get to my feet and tell him I'm gonna go home and rest, that I have a test tomorrow.

"I don't understand why you bother with that. Everything you could ever need is right here." He jerks his head in the direction of the crowd. His kingdom. His people.

I don't tell him that the money he's given me is going to college applications so that I can get far away from him and his empire. I will not tell him that I'm planning my escape. I do not risk his wrath.

I of all people know what he's capable of when he's angry.

"Please?" I ask, trying not to sound too insistent.

Finally, he rolls his eyes and throws me the keys to one of his cars. "Don't crash it."

"I won't," I promise, and immediately add a thank-you when I catch his expectant look. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The crowds part for me as I walk through under Thomas's watchful eye. The men eye me hungrily, but they won't touch; they know they can't. They know full well what Thomas will do if he catches them.

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