Burning Bridges by Nadege Richards

the others closing in again, and that ’ s when it occurred to me that they weren ’ t going to let me go without discovering what—or rather, how much —was in my pocket.
    Tension between the seven of us grew heavy, and embracing the moment as a fight or flight, I swung my fist out at the redhead to my left and got him straight in the nose. He grunted and staggered back, but my victory was short-lived as I felt two pairs of hands clamp around my arms and hold them behind my head. The position forced my eyes on Tyron, his arms crossed over his chest and lips curved into a sadistic smile as he watched with the others while I struggled to get free. I wasn ’ t weak, but then again, Tyron and his fellows weren ’ t exactly human with all the drugs they took.
    “ Ayden, Ayden, Ayden, ” Tyron cooed, pacing towards me slowly. “ When are you going to learn that I always— ” His fist struck my lower abdomen, a blow so ha rd it went straight to my head, and confused my vision and caus ed my heart rate to increase tenfold. “ That I always get what I want. ” He rolled up his sleeve , and even through my blurred vision I could make out the tribal ta ttoos on his forearm, marks so different from any that I ’ d seen.
    Hunters were known for their animalistic incorporations in their art, and even in their tattoos. My family ’ s symbol was a scorpion, a sign that portrayed wisdom and humility that was passed down from generation to generation. Others had ranged from a wasp to a python, but never had I seen anything like the one Tyron bore on his arm. The asp—vicious and inky—stared back at me as if it could sense that I reeked of fear. Fear that I wouldn ’ t fulfill the promise s to my family, and fear that once Tyron discovered the money in my pocket I wouldn ’ t even have the time to reminisce before I was locked up and thrown into the arena. 
    Another blow to my chest forced all thoughts out of my head. I knew it wasn ’ t Tyron this time because I felt the i mprint of a ring. As I bent for ward to desperately keep what little lunch I had in my stomach, the strong hands around my arms released me and I fell to the floor.
    “ His pocket, ” Tyron commanded. I didn ’ t bother to put up a fight.
    “ Look it all of this, ” one of them shouted hysterically , holding up the money . I wondered if so meone outside of the alley saw what was going on. Even so, I knew they would just walk on by in fear of getting too involved. They ’ d rather take the chance of someone else possibly being beaten to death rather than it being them. It was sick.
    A hand tugged at my hair and forced my head skyward. Tyron ’ s features blurred through my bruised eye . “ You hid all of this from us, ” he said. “ Sharing is caring, Ayd, hasn ’ t anyone told you? Where did you get all of this anyway? ”
    I smiled, and instead of answering him, I spit straight into his filthy face. He recoiled almost immediately, but countered with a blow to my face I hardly had time to block. This time, as the hits came at me nonstop, I could taste the coppery tang of blood on my tongue. It flooded my mouth and became so much that I found it hard to breathe.
    “ Where did you get the money, Ayden, ” Tyron slurred between bouts of gasping and kicking me in the stomach.
    I finally gave up and shouted, “ The Princess! ” with what energy I had left.
    The alley went silent, Tyron ’ s assault ceased.
    “ The Princess? ” Tyron asked, his horrid breath fanning across my face.
    “ Yes, ” I croaked.
    The other guys began to laugh. “ He must be kidding. With her vow of chastity until she ’ s married to the Prince, no wa y would she give it up to him. O f all the idiots in Old Haven, ” one said.
    I frowned.
    “ No, definitely not. So what is it then? Are you lying? ” Tyron said.
    “ I stole it from her, ” I whispered. “ When the Servant Keeper wasn ’ t looking, I snuck up to her chambers and stole it from her dresser.