them as the
two other Volanis brothers. She
recognized Damon’s jet-black hair, Cristov’s lean, chiseled face.
Cristov put his hands up and Damon began to rain blows
upon them, audible smacks above the crowd’s yells. The brutality in their
movements was tempered by the skill with which Cristov tested his brother,
moving his hands this way and that, feinting one and then the other, Damon
keeping up with each quick, metered movement.
Kim gasped as Cristov suddenly swooped forward, taking
hold of Damon’s waist and trying to forcefully propel him backward, but Damon
dug his heels into the dirt and stayed fast in place, responding to the assault
with a deftly delivered headlock that landed Cristov on his back, struggling to
rise until finally slamming his hand down on the dust beneath them.
As the men released, both panting, the crowd murmured
and began to disperse. Whatever the hell that was, it seemed to be over. Kim
couldn’t see what the point had been; neither man seemed to be overly hurt by
the fight. It looked like they’d beenpracticing
for a fight more than anything else.
She didn’t see why that would have drawn the crowd it
did, but maybe there was a general lack of entertainment around the trailer
park. Either way, as the crowd shoved past her in a wave, she watched the
brothers embracing, patting each other on the back and moving towards the
trailer with their arms still draped over each other’s shoulders.
She rushed forward, ignoring the curious looks she
got. Yeah, outsiders definitely drew
interest.
“Cristov! Damon!” she called out, waving her arm above
the crowd. The brothers turned in unison as she approached, slightly out of
breath. She’d seen how cut they were from a distance, but now that she was only
a few feet away, their physical forms were something to behold. And then some.
Damon definitely had a good twenty pounds of sheer
bulky muscle on his brother, but neither seemed to have an ounce of fat on
their sculpted bodies, and deep 6-packs that invited the eye further downward.
Both were covered in tattoos, like Kennick, but the style and type varied;
Damon seemed to mostly have Sailor Jerry-style flash art dotting his body,
while Cristov was adorned in elaborately colorful flowers and koi fish and
nature scenes. She blushed, willing herself to keep her eyes in an appropriate
place.
“It’s you,” Cristov said with a smile. “I remember
you. How you doing, girl?”
“I’m…I’m good,” Kim said.
“I bet you are,” Cristov said, his tone suggestive.
She was caught off-guard for a moment but shook it off, which was easier to do
when she saw the exasperated look Damon shot his brother. Something told Kim
that Cristov talked a big game to all the girls he met.
“I’m looking for your brother,” Kim said. “I
just…wanted to talk to him about something. Is he inside?”
The men shared a glance, then looked back at her with
their eyebrows raised. A smile split across Cristov’s face while Damon seemed
like he was biting back a smirk.
“He’s not,” Cristov said. “But he could be soon. Want
to wait around? We got cold beer and…”
“He’s over there,” Damon interrupted, pointing to a
trailer in the middle of the park, kitty-corner to the one they stood in front
of at the moment. Cristov glowered at his brother.
“Oh,” Kim said. “Is he busy?”
Damon shrugged. “If he is, he’ll tell you.”
“If he is, come on back,” Cristov said. “The beer
won’t get warm anytime soon.”
“Uh, thanks,” Kim said, backing away towards the
trailer Damon pointed to. The two men watched her, curious and engaged, until
she turned and trotted away, feeling their eyes burn behind her with every
step. It was not, surprisingly, an entirely unpleasant feeling.
She paused on the stone steps. She could hear faint
conversation inside; a woman’s voice, and a voice she
two other Volanis brothers. She
recognized Damon’s jet-black hair, Cristov’s lean, chiseled face.
Cristov put his hands up and Damon began to rain blows
upon them, audible smacks above the crowd’s yells. The brutality in their
movements was tempered by the skill with which Cristov tested his brother,
moving his hands this way and that, feinting one and then the other, Damon
keeping up with each quick, metered movement.
Kim gasped as Cristov suddenly swooped forward, taking
hold of Damon’s waist and trying to forcefully propel him backward, but Damon
dug his heels into the dirt and stayed fast in place, responding to the assault
with a deftly delivered headlock that landed Cristov on his back, struggling to
rise until finally slamming his hand down on the dust beneath them.
As the men released, both panting, the crowd murmured
and began to disperse. Whatever the hell that was, it seemed to be over. Kim
couldn’t see what the point had been; neither man seemed to be overly hurt by
the fight. It looked like they’d beenpracticing
for a fight more than anything else.
She didn’t see why that would have drawn the crowd it
did, but maybe there was a general lack of entertainment around the trailer
park. Either way, as the crowd shoved past her in a wave, she watched the
brothers embracing, patting each other on the back and moving towards the
trailer with their arms still draped over each other’s shoulders.
She rushed forward, ignoring the curious looks she
got. Yeah, outsiders definitely drew
interest.
“Cristov! Damon!” she called out, waving her arm above
the crowd. The brothers turned in unison as she approached, slightly out of
breath. She’d seen how cut they were from a distance, but now that she was only
a few feet away, their physical forms were something to behold. And then some.
Damon definitely had a good twenty pounds of sheer
bulky muscle on his brother, but neither seemed to have an ounce of fat on
their sculpted bodies, and deep 6-packs that invited the eye further downward.
Both were covered in tattoos, like Kennick, but the style and type varied;
Damon seemed to mostly have Sailor Jerry-style flash art dotting his body,
while Cristov was adorned in elaborately colorful flowers and koi fish and
nature scenes. She blushed, willing herself to keep her eyes in an appropriate
place.
“It’s you,” Cristov said with a smile. “I remember
you. How you doing, girl?”
“I’m…I’m good,” Kim said.
“I bet you are,” Cristov said, his tone suggestive.
She was caught off-guard for a moment but shook it off, which was easier to do
when she saw the exasperated look Damon shot his brother. Something told Kim
that Cristov talked a big game to all the girls he met.
“I’m looking for your brother,” Kim said. “I
just…wanted to talk to him about something. Is he inside?”
The men shared a glance, then looked back at her with
their eyebrows raised. A smile split across Cristov’s face while Damon seemed
like he was biting back a smirk.
“He’s not,” Cristov said. “But he could be soon. Want
to wait around? We got cold beer and…”
“He’s over there,” Damon interrupted, pointing to a
trailer in the middle of the park, kitty-corner to the one they stood in front
of at the moment. Cristov glowered at his brother.
“Oh,” Kim said. “Is he busy?”
Damon shrugged. “If he is, he’ll tell you.”
“If he is, come on back,” Cristov said. “The beer
won’t get warm anytime soon.”
“Uh, thanks,” Kim said, backing away towards the
trailer Damon pointed to. The two men watched her, curious and engaged, until
she turned and trotted away, feeling their eyes burn behind her with every
step. It was not, surprisingly, an entirely unpleasant feeling.
She paused on the stone steps. She could hear faint
conversation inside; a woman’s voice, and a voice she
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