Lies & Lullabies Read Online Free

hurtling to the floor.  
    Keeping a grip on her arm, I squeezed it between my legs as she grappled to stand. I turned my lower body sharply, a crackling sound emanated from her forearm. She screamed and wailed in pain. I scattered away, leaving her on the ground, nursing her arm.  
    The woman with a bleeding cheek grabbed my shoulders and raised her leg to kick me. I bobbed my head forward, hitting the softest part of her face with the hardest part of my forehead, preventing her foot from making contact. She loosened her hold on me and fell to the ground disoriented.  
    The third woman, who I hadn’t subdued yet, approached me with her spine curved. A lead pipe was held tightly in her grip.  
    Using momentum, I spun, kicking up one leg and the other in rapid succession. The ball of my foot hit the throat of the woman approaching me. She woofed and swung her arm out at me prior to hitting the ground. The lead pipe bit nastily at my ankle. A blast of pain reverberated up my leg leaving me immobile for an instant.  
    The woman with a bleeding cheek wobbled and struggled to reach behind her. The sight of the black gun in her hand alarmed me.  
    In the five fights I had engaged in, no one ever brought a gun. It was too easy, and the evasive boss of the arena didn’t like the use of lethal weapons in either the women’s or men’s matches. If a gun was used, the person was never seen in the ring again.  
    I scanned the crowd for someone to call the fight. Two men dressed in black moved between the tables, approaching the cage while touching what I assumed were earpieces. They unholstered their guns when their steps fell a few feet shy of the cage’s entry door.
    Across the way, the man in the VIP section was no longer at ease. He leaned forward with his hands clasped tensely over his open lap. His plump lips moved as though he was speaking to someone.  
    I shoved my mind back in the fight and flung my arm out, hitting her in the throat before she could get a good handle on the gun. She fell to the ground, coughing and wheezing. I grabbed the gun and fiddled with it, failing to unload it fast enough.  
    The crowd began to chant. “Kill her,” in a chaotic harmony.  
    I discharged the clip and tossed the gun up and out of the tall enclosure of the cage. The two men in black suits, once on a mission, halted their steps. My opponents remained grounded behind me, unable to move. I stepped over to the gate and snapped at the guard, “What are you waiting for? Let me out.”
    The guard glanced nervously back at the two men in suits and sent a furtive glance toward the VIP section. “Kill or be killed.”
    “Since when?” Trepidation and surprise raised the tone of my voice. “Only knockouts are allowed in women’s matches.”  
    He moved his head from left to right as though he was going to shake his head again. Pausing, he pressed his finger to his earpiece, creasing his features as he did. “Yes, sir,” he said to whomever was on the other line. He opened the cage for the two men in suits. They brushed past me, avoiding me on their way in, and raised their guns.  
    The words “What the fuck are you doing?” slipped out of my mouth too late. The guard grabbed me, hauling me away from the entrance to the ring.
    In the midst of being lugged away, I twisted my neck to see the scene unfold in the ring. All three women were executed, a bullet between the eyes, by the men in suits. Temple had hightailed it some time ago; he was nowhere to be found ringside.  
    I wrestled out of the guard’s stocky arms, intending to leave the building.  
    The guard seized my arm, pulling my reluctant feet toward the back area of the grand space. “Stop struggling. Someone wants to see you.”  
    I slithered out of his hold and gave him a tepid nod when he shot a look back at me, telling him I would follow without his unnecessary assistance.  
    I was directed toward the shadowed corridor at the back of the grand room. Spectators