SICK HEART by Huss, JA (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

The invited guests are already here. This is not a sanctioned Ring of Fire fight, so that guest list was fairly small. Only the other owners were invited, and that number is exactly nine, plus Udulf and Lazar, and the mercs, doubling today as drivers since Udulf wants to keep this little party as elite as possible.

Ego man, it never fails.

So they have a grand total of thirty. Plus the reporter and her cameraman, that’s thirty-two. But I’m not sure they really count.

So this bus rolling up holds my camp.

I glance over at the nearest hut where Zoya, Rasha, and Irina have been staying. They are waiting it out on the porch as well, their eyes all tracking the movement over by the bus. They have a better view than I do, so they are more committed to their watching. But soon enough, I can see all my people.

Rainer comes first, his eyes automatically tracking to me on the porch of our house. He’s holding Ainsey. But he looks away quickly, and when Ainsey’s gaze lingers on me for an extra second too long, he whispers something in her ear. Don’t look, he’s telling her. Don’t look at him. She turns her head, obeying.

Evard is trailing behind Rainer. He doesn’t need to be told not to look.

Then the rest appear. My entire camp. Fifteen more kids under thirteen. Four teenagers. Three grown women. And Maart. Not a single one of them looks at me.

But it doesn’t matter anymore.

I have what I need.

I know who I am.

Or rather, I know who I was.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - ANYA

The next morning I am escorted back to the base camp for the fight in a limo sitting between Udulf and Lazar.

Nothing about this day is very clear to me. But I am very sure that the reason this fight is happening has less to do with how I helped Cort in the last one and more to do with some sick need of these two men to maintain control.

Udulf hasn’t gotten back to me about where I will end up. Not that I expected him to. I expected him to go right to Lazar, have a little conversation about their shared secret, and part with their heads swirling with blood and delusions of grandeur.

The purpose of our little chat yesterday was to make him see me. Because before that talk I was just a slave girl who outlived her usefulness and after that talk I was something else.

I don’t really know how the story goes between Udulf and Lazar—but I can take a good guess.

Once upon a time Udulf and Lazar were best friends. They grew up together. They went to school together. They shared the same interests, they shared the same goals, they shared the same sick desire for control.

And when they were in their early teens—before they had money to buy their own house slaves to abuse and fighters to find glory, before they were asked to join the ranks of their elite elders—these young men, and probably others just like them from similar families all over the world, played their own game.

Let’s call it… Breed and Hunt.

Because that’s what it was.

It was mostly just some really sick shit at first.

They raped their father’s house slaves, got them pregnant, and then shipped them off somewhere private to have those brand-new baby slaves. Out of sight and out of mind until… those children were old enough to run. Then, they brought them back in containers and had a little hunt in the shipyards.

That’s where Cort’s sister comes in.

And maybe they took some of them home for later.

That’s where Cort comes in.

But along the way they realized that not all these children were useless bags of meat to be killed in ritualistic fashion.

Some of them had survival instincts.

And this was a real opportunity.

I think this is how they started their stable of fighters.

I think this is how they got their harem of house slaves.

I think this is how it all began for Cort.

Maybe it’s not one-hundred percent correct, but I’d bet my life that it’s pretty damn close.

And my words to Udulf yesterday were just another part of that game. No one really cares what they did. No one is coming to arrest them. There will be no trial, no prison sentence, no consequences at all.

Because these men rule the world. They are untouchable.

And it doesn’t even matter if Cort finds out the secret of his beginnings. He’s already dead to them.

Today, he and Maart will fight. Maart will win. And Maart won’t leave. Rainer has paved the way for this, so it’s not even unexpected that Maart would stay. They would all stay. Maart and Rainer would take over Cort’s base camp. Would continue the traditions. They would choose their own new crop of fighters. And then Maart and Rainer would be the ones sending little boys and girls onto the mat, or onto the platforms, or into some makeshift ring, and one by one, all these kids, along with thousands more around the world, would die trying.

And, since this is the most successful camp in the Ring of Fire right now, those older teens that are ready to enter the Ring would keep the legacy going long enough for all of that to pan out. And the younger teens—like Irina, and Paulo, and Peng, and Maeko—they would be right behind them. Ready for their chance.

It’s kind of a perfect plan.

There are so many ways to keep the glory going in this scenario.

This is what Udulf and Lazar are imagining this morning. And the only reason why they bothered to keep all this stuff secret for all these years is because Cort was winning. And Pavo was winning. And as long as they had winners, they were winners too.

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

They brought in money, and power, and prestige. By luck or by chance, this whole Breed and Hunt thing somehow… worked.

But