coward nevertheless. I skid to a halt and then turn and head for him again. I pull my fists close to my chest and assume a boxing stance, because I've been taking fighting lessons.
I've been preparing all my life to challenge him. Because we should be better than we are. We shouldn't be a bunch of piss-ant morons fighting for scraps and bickering over little things. We should be intelligent and powerful and help each other instead of tearing each other down. And we're never going to get better under my uncle's rule.
He smirks when I fake a jab and he blocks it. That's fine, I'm testing him. I feint to the left, and when he goes to block it, I swing hard on his right, and my fist connects with his jaw.
He's no longer laughing now. With a snarl, he grabs me by my shirt, and then we're really fighting. Fists flying, punches everywhere, kicking, vicious grabs of skin - any and all leverage counts. He flings me to the ground but I get right back up, rolling over and bounding to my feet. I land a punch in his side and he wheezes, then returns it. Over and over we hit each other, and I can see my uncle is starting to slow. I'm still fierce, though. Still strong and full of energy.
I've got him.
His next punch comes in slow, as if he's tiring, and I easily block it, ducking low. Something hits the back of my leg, right behind my knee, and I go sprawling to the ground.
One of my dickface cousins kicked me, knocked me down when my back was turned. They don't want me to win.
And I won't, because in the next moment, Levi's foot is on my throat, pinning me to the floor. "You yield?"
I consider for a long moment. Fury courses through me, but I'm not left with much of a choice. If I don't, he'll crush my windpipe.
I give him a quick, grim nod.
He shakes his head at me. "You need to learn, boy. I'm in charge around here." He slaps my cheek lightly, looks over at my cousins, snaps his fingers, and points at me.
To a man, they pounce. All except Gracie, who watches near the fireplace with a frown on her face, hugging her knees. They kick me and pound their fists on me until my entire body is aching and battered, and I'm pretty sure I feel a rib crack. I endure it as my punishment for failure.
It’s an asskicking for daring to challenge. It’s not the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last. I’ll never give up until the day my hand is on my uncle’s throat.
Soon, I tell myself as another boot smacks into my ribs. Soon.
After a few minutes of the stomping, Levi seems appeased. "Let him up."
They stop pounding on me long enough for me to stagger to my feet. I do, my body aching and blood trickling out of my mouth and nose. Even beaten, I'm still bubbling with barely contained rage. If I had the strength, I'd challenge Levi again, right this second.
"Show me your throat," Levi growls.
It fills me with anger, but I know if I challenge again in such a short period of time, they’ll try to figure out what has me so riled. They’ll know it’s Savannah, and they’ll try to punish me - or her - for it. And I need to be close to her to protect her. My nostrils flare and I tilt my chin a little. Just enough to be submissive. For now.
He slaps my face lightly again. "Good boy."
I grit my teeth. I hate that I have to take that.
"You're so in love with our captive, you're in charge of her," Levi says. "You get nights. I'll have one of the boys watch her during the day."
I nod slowly. To him, that probably sounds like a punishment, but I think it sounds fine. If I have to hold Savannah captive, at least everyone won't be hanging around at three am. I turn to leave.
"Where you goin'?" Levi asks. "I said you had to watch her. That starts tonight."
"You feed her yet?” I don't turn around. My fists are clenched so hard I'm digging wounds into my palms, but I don't care.
"Naw."
"Then I'm going to go get her something to eat. Just because we’re holding her hostage doesn’t mean she has to starve.”
Levi