She was amazing. There was no other way to describe her. Legs that seemed to go on forever, blonde hair that was carelessly swept up in a pony-tail, and a smile a man would kill for. Some men sooner than others, I’d hand them that, but all in all she was the perfect choice. I knew why she was there, and I knew that it would be a very bad idea for me to accept her invitation. I also knew that I was a sore old bastard who had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do at the moment. And I had a match the following day.
Matches were still unpredictable, even for a veteran like me. All it took was one runt who managed to aim at the right place at the right time and you could be gone. Wasted. Blown to bits. No matter how often I went out there, I never forgot. Hugh claims that that’s why I’m still alive. I think it’s just pure skill, with a little luck sprinkled on top. Still, I couldn’t afford to get careless. Couldn’t afford to let some pretty little bitch get under my skin. But there she was, smiling at me. It wasn’t one of those full, toothy smiles either. It was a little smile, something between a knowing smirk and a sultry grin. I loved it. She knew it, and smiled some more.
“So how much are they paying you?” I asked her. Maybe not the best come-on line, but it worked. Her eyes widened in surprise, and her lips parted just a little, as if she wanted to say something rash. As if she was insulted. She wasn’t, because this wasjust a game, maybe a little less lethal than a death match, but that didn’t make it less dangerous or less exciting. “They’re not paying me anything. This stuff I do for free.” She turned to me, lowering her face slightly so it was only inches away from mine. That told me she was lying. Short and ugly fucker like me? Of course they had to pay her. I’d already decided that I didn’t care though.
“Siri.” She said, offering her hand. I took it, merely holding it for a while. Her skin was every bit as soft as I’d imagined. “Ruiz.” I answered, giving her my name. “I know.” She said, smiling that smile again. And of course she did. This was a set-up, right? Besides, everyone knew my name in that particular district. I offered her a drink, and things progressed from there, as I’d expected. She was there to distract me, right? So I allowed myself to be distracted. She was good at everything she did, and when I finally fell asleep I was absolutely convinced that this night was going to be the death of me. I also decided that I didn’t particularly mind.
I woke up to the sound of Hugh talking the viewers through the game. The arena had just been covered, and he was about to move on to the competitors. “Cheeky bastard.” I muttered, rubbing my eyes as I sat up. She was already dressed, still looking every bit as perfect as she had the night before. Her eyes were on the screen, watching as Hugh skipped through the opponents one at a time. “Ruiz Alfreda Trafalgar da Costa.” I sighed, dropping my head back onto the pillow. “Alfredo?” Siri asked, the amusement clear on her voice. “Only my mother calls me that.”
Hugh prattled on, and I could almost drown him out. Almost. “Siri Johnson.” I sat up instantly, staring at the screen. The picture on the screen was amazing. Blonde hair swept up in a careless ponytail, and a smile that a man could die for. “I thought you knew.” She said. “Siri Johnson. I should’ve know. So what are they paying you?” I had been so wrong. “I already told you, this stuff I do for free.” Her voice was husky now, lower than it had been even in the throes of passion.
“I could kill you now.” She said. I figured that she was probably carrying a weapon, and she probably could, with me just lying there, wearing nothing but a sheet. “But I’ll save that for later.” And with that she was gone, walking out the door with a bounce in her step. I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling more tired than I ever had in my entire life. “Alfredo, you are a dumb son of a deadbeat.” I whispered, repeating the words his mother had yelled at me so many times. Then I shrugged and got out of bed. At least the match would be interesting.
