Page 30 of Fatality

Weak and hurt enough to be defenseless. Unable to do a damn thing when caught off guard.

“Don't fucking touch me, Lira.” I yank her toward me and lean in until my face is only inches from hers. “This is your last warning.”

Her perfume—strawberries and that sickly sweet gloss thing she always wears—crawls into my nostrils.

“Are you finally going to be a good girl and understand?”

“Y-Yes...” she mumbles. “I will.”

“Then stop acting like a needy bitch. Am I clear?”

I grab her jaw, forcing her injected lips into a pout, she simply nods.

Good.

That's how I like her, obedient. Not some dependent, attention-seeking, needy woman.

I release her with a dismissive shove.

I straighten up and glance down at her naked body, perfectly sculpted by cosmetic surgery, before turning away without another thought.

I snatch my boxers and jeans off the floor, tucking myself back in.

I cross to the chair, pull on my black-and-red compression shirt, shove my boots on, and head for the door.

The night air hits my skin and the harsh lights of the Upper Layers make me squint.

I shove my hands into my pockets and start walking.

My Charger is parked not far from Lira's place, but I need to cool off and grab a fucking can.

Nitro energy drinks are my favorite—The sweetness, the chemicals. They're so fucking addictive.

Almost better than sex and racing.

Almost.

Around here, people change direction—or even cross the street—when they see me.

I look like someone who just got out of the detention complex.

They're not wrong.

I come from the Lower Layers, where people get killed for less than a dirty look. Where you can illegally replace your spine with full bionic vertebrae.

Where gangs run illegal races and control entire districts.

So, of course people avoid me. It's written all over me.

I'm not exactly in the mood for small talk either. Lira's little act pissed me the fuck off.

I step inside the store. Everything is so bright and spotless it feels more like an expensive clinic than a convenience store.

I head to the drinks section, and my eyes widen but not in a good way.

What the actual fuck?

The can costs six credits?