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Queen of Chaos

Summary:

Jordan's life has always been chaotic. Growing up in the underground fighting scene wasn't exactly a walk in the park and is bound to leave a few scars. She never thought she'd escape; that is, until an unwilling Steve Austin is suddenly thrust into her life and suddenly there just might be a chance for her to have her freedom back.

Of course, getting free was only one obstacle when Jordan finds herself thrust into the world of the WWF and introduced to two men that would further change her life. Not that meeting the little spitfire doesn't change Mark Calloway and Glenn Jacobs; in fact, no one will leave this story unchanged in some way.

Notes:

Original plotline that I hope is unique enough to capture everyones attention. This story does involve a relationship between three people and if that bothers you I highly suggest turning back now. This is also a slow-burn; I don't want everyone just falling in love and into bed within a couple chapters of meeting so if you are looking for a fast paced story, this isn't the place for you.

With that said, I do hope you enjoy reading and will leave a review.

P.S. I own none of the characters/people/places in this story except my OC's and even then they seem to have minds of their own as well.

Much love,

Persephone.

Chapter Text

Jordan had been stuck in the underground wrestling society since she was sixteen. As a homeless teenager, being offered a way to make money whilst having a roof over your head and your stomach full of food had sounded too good to be true. She should have known that's precisely what it was; too good to be true.

Her opening match had concluded with her knocked out; a black eye, a broken nose, and three fractured ribs had left her holed up for a few days before she had been forced back into the cage. Yeah, the matches were held in a cage; probably to keep some of the competitors from running when they finally got the opportunity. Jordan knew she wasn't the only one that desired to run away from this place but after fifteen years she had learnt that escape attempts were futile. They'd either drag you back kicking and screaming or they'd kill you for daring to step out of line.

There were no rules in the cage; anything goes even killing your opponent. You made money but you had no way of spending it unless you asked the boss to forward a check to your loved ones, and no one down here had any loved ones. They were the forgotten; those plucked off the streets because no one would report they were missing because there was nobody there to miss them in the first place. Her boss was as intelligent as she was merciless.

Speaking of her boss.

"Dallas! Why the fuck aren't you ready yet?!"

Jordan turned to face the petite woman who was flanked by two colossal men who looked like they had gone three rounds with a pride of lions and won.

Dallas, that's what they called her because she hadn't known her name when they had first chosen her off the streets. She had been suffering through amnesia at the time, her name only coming back to her after a particularly severe blow to the head nine years ago. Jordan had been smart enough not to inform them that she had remembered her name; it was safer that way. Dallas had been where her life had ended and Dallas was who she would remain to remind her of that reality.

"I'm not fighting tonight," she responded, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She had fought yesterday, guaranteeing that she wouldn't have to fight again tonight so she could rest her aching muscles.

"Incompetent morons," she heard the woman growl before their eyes met, glacial blue meeting emotionless brown. "You're going to be our main attraction tonight," she revealed in a no-nonsense tone, "you and our latest addition are going to be our first ever tag team match."

Jordan was sure she was gaping at the shorter woman. She wasn't tall by any means; in fact, she only stood at five feet four inches but she had at least half a foot on the woman in front of her. That didn't mean shit when it came to the intimidation factor, however; and Jordan knew she wouldn't be arguing about this last-minute match.

"When is the match?" she inquired alternatively; wearily eyeing the two men who were smirking now.

"You have ten minutes to get in your gear and wrap up or I'll have you dragged out in your underwear. Again."

Jordan agreed immediately before the trio left her room and she hurried over to the small dresser that held the meagre clothing she did own. Her 'gear' was nothing more than a pair of black shorts and a black faded muscle tank that was cropped to show off her abs as much as the sleeveless tank revealed her muscular arms. She made quick work of wrapping her bruised and busted knuckles and had just thrown her hair into a ponytail when one of the guards rapped on her door before entering.

He sent Jordan a sympathetic smile and she only managed a grimace in return. Not all the guards were complete assholes and two particular guards were men Jordan knew she could trust with her life. She put on her combat boots and followed John out wordlessly, his hand tenderly grasping her arm to keep up 'appearances'.

"Who am I fighting with and against?" she questioned as they drew closer to the spacious room that housed the arena. She could already hear the enthusiastic roars of the crowd and knew that this match was far more popular than any other.

"I don't know what she's thinkin', bringin' him into this," John responded in his well-known Texas drawl, "but at least he's competent; shouldn't hold you back or get you killed."

"Are you gonna give me a name or just a description of this guy?" she grumbled but John remained silent. "At least tell me who we're fighting," she urged when it became obvious she would be getting nowhere with her previous interrogation.

She could feel John's hold on her arm tightening. "DeMarco and Beast," he grunted and Jordan felt her blood run cold.

DeMarco she could handle; she'd bet him in a fight on a few occasions but Beast? There was a reason he had received his moniker. The man didn't play fair in or out of the cage. He had no quandaries with hitting you whilst your back was turned and would be the first person you look at if someone's throat was slit in their sleep.

Jordan was only distracted from her worries by the bellows of a man as he was dragged from one of the nearby rooms. She could see the two hulking guards grappling with the man as he hollered obscenities at them. "What the fuck do ya think ya doin' ya piece of shit," he roared as they dragged him further into the hall, "do ya have any idea who I am?!"

She did; she'd never personally met the man but she was very familiar with him. "You've gotta be fucking kidding," Jordan found herself murmuring as she took in the bald head and tanned skin of the one and only Stone Cold Steve Austin; Wrestling Superstar and someone that people would definitely notice was missing. "What the fuck is she thinking?" she continued as John came to a halt with her in front of the three new occupants to the hall.

"She's gettin' paid huge for this match and it's all because of this one," John sneered at the red-haired man as if his being here was his fault.

"What's she gonna do with him after?" Jordan questioned as Blake sent his fist into Austin's stomach; the man hunching forward as the air was knocked from him.

"Keep him," John scoffed, "he's her new exhibit."

"They'll come looking for him," she asserted matter-of-factly even as hope swelled in her chest; if they found him, Jordan and the others who were trapped here could finally be liberated.

"Don't bother, kid," he answered, unmistakably having seen the look in her eyes, "ain't no one goin' to find this place."

He was right; she had been here fifteen years and the only people who ever found the place were those that were invited. Hell, she didn't even know where 'here' was because she had been blindfolded when she was brought here. Still, she had to hope or she'd go insane.

She shrugged out of John's hold and marched over to the three men. Austin was still struggling against the two guards but stopped when she walked towards them. "You've gotta stop or they're just gonna hurt you more," she informed him sternly, "and I'm not gonna pull your weight tonight when Beast is in the damn cage. If you don't get your head in the match than neither of us are gonna make it outta this alive. That what you want?"

"I wanna know what the fuck is goin' on," Austin spat and Jordan emotionlessly wiped the spittle from her face.

"You'll find out after the match," she assured him, knowing the rules, "if you make it outta the cage alive."

"A match? Like a fight?" he grumbled and Jordan simply shrugged again.

"Not the fight you're used to," she advised him, "there's no script. No friends. And no rules. You win when your opponent taps out, falls unconscious, or dies."

She could see the disbelief in the man's eyes at her words, "ya kill people?"

"You do what you gotta do to win," she responded, "and in a game where it's you or them; you're gonna wanna make sure it's you."

"And who the hell are you?"

"Dallas! Get your ass into that cage now!"

Jordan turned to see her boss glaring firmly at her and stepped passed Austin and the three guards to do as she was ordered. She could hear Austin calling for her but she disregarded the man as John opened the door and the two of them stepped into the crowded room.

"... weighing in at a hundred and thirty-five pounds; she's your Chaos Queen. DALLAS!"

The crowd went insane and Jordan heard her song come on over the speakers as she began making her way through the crowd as they parted for her. She ignored the many hands that gave her pats on the shoulders, back, or her ass as she kept her eyes on the two men already waiting in the cage.

DeMarco was just shy of six feet and was sinewy whereas Beast seemed like he devoured Arnold Schwarzenegger and maybe even the Hulk at some point in his life. Beast was nearing seven feet in height and hadn't lost a fight; ever. He had only been there for a year but had killed more people than any other. He was ruthless and, unlike many of the others, had no desire to leave the underground.

John held open the cage door for her and Jordan threw him a look before she stepped inside and listened as the door locked behind her. She strolled around the ring until scaling the stairs and climbing into the ring on the opposing side of the two men. DeMarco was giving her a similar look of sympathy that John had but the Beast appeared to be practically salivating at the sight of her.

Jordan felt her terror growing at the sight of the man only to shove it down as promptly as it had come. Now wasn't the time to let her fear get the better of her; she had seen many people lose for that exact reason.

She barely heard the commentator introducing Austin but she certainly heard the thunderous roar of the crowd as the man was hauled down to the cage and forced inside. He was still shouting and swearing but it only seemed to make the crowd louder. No one cared that the man had been taken against his will; as long as he provided them with entertainment they wouldn't say anything.

"Would you get in the fucking ring already, you bald-headed prick!" DeMarco shouted and that seemed to get Austin's attention.

She watched as he glanced from DeMarco to Beast before his eyes settled on her and seemed to widen. She watched as his eyes continued to flicker between the three of them before his gaze returned to her and she could see the shock there. Jordan could imagine what he was thinking. He was probably questioning why there was only one woman in the ring but as she had told him, these fights were nothing like the ones he was used to.

Austin slowly walked around the ring until he reached her corner and got inside the ring himself. He stepped over to her, looking her up and down before his eyes shot to DeMarco and Beast once more.

"I know what you're thinking," she informed him over the roar of the crowd, "but that shit won't fly here. I'm first in the ring and I'll only tag you if I need you; try any of that shit I see you guys pulling on tv and I'll show you exactly why I'm in this ring."

"Those two men are three times ya size," he told her angrily, "if anything, that shit shouldn't fly. I'm not gonna watch ya get the shit beat outta ya."

She heard the first bell, alerting them that the match would be commencing and she watched as Beast got out of the ring as DeMarco smirked at her. "Then close your eyes," she told him, "now get outta the fucking ring."

Just as the words left her lips, the starting bell rang. Austin, still gawking at her in astonishment, immediately became DeMarco's first victim as the man charged him. Jordan watched as DeMarco clotheslined Austin, sending him over the ropes and out of the ring.

"And the star goes down," DeMarco jeered.

She saw her opening and didn't hesitate to take it. DeMarco was just turning to confront her and instead got a face full of her fist. Fighting at her height was always cumbersome but she had learnt to use it to her advantage over the years. As DeMarco went for his face, Jordan sent her fist into his stomach before bringing her knee into his ribs.

Jordan backed away for a moment, knowing what the boss wanted and not wanting to earn her wrath for ending the fight too soon. When DeMarco recovered, Jordan went to kick him in the stomach only to have his hands wrap around her ankle before he hurled her across the ring.

She groaned as she got her elbows underneath her and attempted to get her second wind before she felt a boot connecting with her midsection. Jordan wheezed as the breath was knocked from her only to have the boot connect with her stomach again. And again. And again. DeMarco backed up a bit after that and she could hear him hyping up the crowd as she lay in the fetal position.

Thick fingers tangled themselves in her ponytail and Jordan bit back her cry as she was hoisted from the ground. Her eyes widened when it wasn't DeMarco she saw, but Beast. She could vaguely see DeMarco smirking at her before her concentration was brought to a hot tongue travelling from her chin to her forehead.

She turned her panic to rage as she seized Beast's monstrous arm and used it to hoist herself up and kick him in the face. The kick did very little to him but it was enough to get herself away from him and into the opposite corner of the ring.

"Tag me in!" she overheard Austin bellow but a quick glance at her boss told her that'd be a poor idea. Her boss wanted a show and Austin was the finale.

Jordan watched the Beast come running at her and moved at the last second; shoving the man into the corner as she did so. There were no protective barriers here and she watched as he hit the iron rings that held the ropes in place.

She went for his knees, kicking them out before she wrapped her legs around his head and went into a backwards handstand, throwing him over with her as she did so. Jordan found herself kneeling over the Beast and took the opportunity to land several hard punches to his face before she felt large hands cupping her ass moments before she was launched off of him.

She swiftly rolled to her feet and roundhouse kicked him in the head as he was trying to stand. Again, the kick barely even swayed him and Jordan found herself backing away as he got to his feet. She stole a glance at her boss and saw her shaking her head; she still wasn't permitted to tag in Austin, the man who could plausibly have an actual chance against the Beast.

His head connected with hers and Jordan had to blink away the black spots that abruptly infiltrated her vision. She could feel herself being lifted but was too dazed to do anything about it. A shriek tore from her lips as she was slammed over the Beast's knee before being tossed away like a piece of garbage. Hot tears sprung to her eyes at the pain that shot up her already bruised back and Jordan found herself looking over to her boss with beseeching eyes.

She received a nod. Now all she needed to do was get back across the ring and tag in Austin who was staring at her with furious and horrified eyes. A boot connected with her face and Jordan felt her nose break under the weight as her head was slammed into the ground. A muffled cry left her lips before she quickly rolled out of the way of another stomp. Jordan seized one of the Beast's legs before yanking on it harshly and sending him into a painful split that had him roaring in pain as his hands went to his groin.

"Come on, sweetheart," she could hear Austin encouraging but Jordan didn't have the energy. She could see the Beast getting to his feet as the crowd cheered and the fear that shot through her gave her the strength to get to her knees and scurry across the ring. She felt a large hand wrap around her ankle just as she managed to tag Austin in.

Jordan turned onto her back and sent her foot soaring into the Beast's face before she used the rope to haul herself out of the ring just as Austin ploughed into the Beast. She had no idea what happened next as she lay beside the ring, her body in the fetal position as pain rocketed throughout her body.

She knew she wouldn't be getting medical attention until there was a champion and the cage was unlocked. What she wasn't anticipating, was to be lifted off the ground only about five minutes later before she was cradled to a sweaty chest. Jordan opened her eyes, that she hadn't even realised she had closed and saw the blurred silhouette of a man. It was only because of the unfamiliar gentleness that she knew Austin had somehow beaten the Beast.

"How?" she managed to get out before her body told her to keep quiet.

"Ya think that guy's scary, sweetheart," he replied in a teasing lilt, "ain't nothin' scarier than me when I'm angry."

She only managed a hum in reply before her world went black.


Steve glanced down at the small woman cradled in his arms like a sleeping child. She was small, too small to have been put up against the two men she had been and he found his temper rising. He was pissed that he had been drugged and taken to some illegal fight club and now he was pissed that he was forced to witness this small woman getting beaten to the point that she had passed out.

This place was messed up and he had only been here for an hour. He wanted answers and he was going to get them; as soon as he knew 'Dallas' was medically okay. A glimpse at her told him her nose was broken and the labored way she breathed probably meant her ribs were cracked. Her hair was messed from where the asshole had pulled it and he was sure her ankle would be bruised and probably sprained from being so brutally manipulated.

However, he still found himself impressed by the small woman. She had faced insurmountable odds and had come out of it. Sure, she hadn't come out unscathed but she hadn't left her adversaries unharmed either and he appreciated that.

Steve allowed the three guards to lead him down the hall and didn't miss the way the eldest one seemed to look at Dallas. It was like a father looking at his injured daughter; the concern in his eyes was obvious enough that Steve was sure it didn't go unnoticed by the other guards.

They entered a small room that made him wrinkle his nose when the scent of blood hit it. The place wreaked of blood and it made him stiffen considerably; how could a place like this even exist without others knowing about it?

"Oh dear," came a concerned voice as an elderly woman scampered out from a back room, "quickly now, put her on the bed." Steve did as he was instructed before four hands were wrapping around his arms and hauling him back and out of the room.

He attempted to protest but all he received was a hard knee to the groin for his troubles as he was dragged away from the small room.


Jordan groaned as consciousness gradually came over her and she was made aware that everything hurt; a lot. Her nose felt like it was on fire, as did her ribs, her back, and her ankle. She bit her lip to keep from swearing extensively, knowing Peggy didn't like it when people swore in her little area. The elderly medic could be downright terrifying and Jordan wasn't in any mood to be on the receiving end of anyone's temper.

Too bad, Peggy was already pissed when she woke up.

"What in tarnation were you thinking?" she seethed as she handed Jordan a cold compress to put on her nose, "I told you yesterday that you should take at least two days to recover from yesterday's match. I would have much preferred you to take at least two weeks but we all know that wouldn't have happened. Why did you compete today, Dallas?"

Jordan grimaced as she put the ice pack on her nose before she responded to the angry elderly woman, "I didn't have a choice, Peg. You know what the boss' like; she wanted me to compete and no one says no to her."

"That woman," Peggy sputtered as she checked on Jordan's bandaged ribs, back, and ankle, "she wants you to fight night in and night out but won't let you recover; she'll work you to an early grave."

"It hasn't happened yet," Jordan rebutted, "and we both know I'm made of tougher stuff than that; if I'm going down, I'm going down swinging."

"You shouldn't have to go down swinging," Peggy grumbled, "fifteen years I've watched you fight; fifteen years I've mended your injuries. You've been here longer than any other fighter and you deserve some time to recover."

"I had three months off last year."

"You were in a coma," Peggy seethed, "because you faced a man three times your size."

"Women don't last long here," Jordan whispered dolefully, "I fight the men or I don't fight at all; if I don't fight, I lose my usefulness. And we both know what happens when I stop being useful."

"Yes, well," Peggy sniffled and Jordan knew she was thinking about the last woman that had been dragged out of here, her body devoid of all life after being placed against the Beast. Jordan had been there to witness the fight; she could remember begging her boss to let her take the girls place. The poor thing hadn't lasted more than three minutes and Jordan had been forced to watch the seventeen-year-olds demise at the hands of a monster.

Jordan placed her calloused hand on Peggy's shoulder and squeezed it tenderly. "I'll be fine, Peg," she assured the older woman. They both knew it was a lie but Peggy took whatever comfort she could find before she wiped her teary eyes and went back to making sure Jordan was as okay as she was going to get. "Take care of yourself, old girl," she teased lightly, ducking out of the room just as Peggy's shoe hit the wall beside her head.

John was waiting for her outside of the small room they used as a make-shift nurses office and she could see he was trying to resist chuckling. She knew he had overheard and presumably even witnessed the little conversation she had just had with Peggy. Jordan had been here so long that John and Peggy had taken on the roles of grandparents and she cared for them both profoundly.

"Ready to head back?" he inquired as he pushed off of the wall and made his way over to her.

She simply nodded her head and followed beside him at a slow limp. Unlike the other guards, John didn't lose his temper with her slow pace and even volunteered to help her walk if she needed it. She had politely declined; instead, using the wall for assistance as her opposite arm wrapped gingerly around her rib cage.

Jordan had had much more serious injuries after a fight but that never made dealing with them any more manageable. The coma had been a really severe injury and had come from numerous blows to the head with a baseball bat; a match that was similar to the WWE's TLC matches. She should have died but her boss wasn't a kind lady and wouldn't have granted her her freedom so easily, even in the form of death. The older woman had taken a liking to Jordan, and not a pleasant one; Jordan was her main attraction and everyone knew she was off-limits unless otherwise declared. That had its pros and cons but Jordan was too exhausted to dwell on that like she usually did.

She thanked John when she got to her room and quickly entered, already intending on going straight to sleep. Jordan clicked the lock into place; knowing it would only keep the other fighters out. One of the pros of the boss taking a liking to her; she was the only fighter with a lockable door. Of course, this was because one of the fighters had tried to force himself on her when she was seventeen. It was only sheer luck that John had been walking passed her room at the time and had heard her screams before the brute could get any further than removing her shorts.

The boss had had his fingers broken; all ten of them. It was a clear message to all the other fighters that Jordan was off-limits unless they were in the ring. The lock had been placed on her door shortly after as well; an extra precaution to assure she remained 'untouched' outside of ring time or without her permission.

Jordan turned around gingerly, her whole body protesting the fact that she was still on her feet after everything that had happened. A small squeak left her lips without her permission as she walked into a pale muscular chest. She practically flew back towards the door, losing her balance momentarily as she landed on her injured ankle. Large hands wrapped around her upper arms gently and released their hold the moment she had managed to steady herself.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" she asked the man standing in front of her. Her eyes narrowed at him in a fierce glare even as her heart struggled to regulate itself from her recent scare.

"I've been informed that I'll be stayin' in here with ya for the foreseeable future," Austin frowned, looking her over with bright eyes, "I've also been told to tell ya that this isn't up for discussion and that if ya refuse, ya privileges will be revoked."

Which meant that if she didn't agree to room with the wrestler, the lock on her door would be removed and it'd be a free for all. She'd never get any sleep because she'd be waiting for one of the fighters she'd beaten in the past to come get their revenge. Jordan would be too tired to fight which could potentially get her killed in the ring.

"What privileges is that bitch talkin' about, sweetheart?" he asked curiously as he moved over to the newest addition to her already small room. A second cot had been placed in her room and she could see a neat pile of clothes on the cot that was for Austin to wear when he wasn't fighting.

"The lock on my door," she answered with a grunt as she limped over to her cot and sat down gingerly. "I'm the only fighter with a lock on my door," she continued as she attempted to get comfortable.

"Why's that?"

She looked over at him lazily, "I'm the only woman fighter amongst thirty wrestlers; I'm sure you can figure out why there's a lock on my door."

His eyes darkened at the meaning behind her words but Jordan just looked away and closed her eyes; praying sleep would come over her shortly so she wouldn't have to socialise with her new roommate or feel the pain her body was in.

"Why don't ya just leave if they don't lock ya in ya room?" he questioned and Jordan growled when she realised she wouldn't be getting any sleep until she answered whatever questions he had. She just hoped there wasn't many; she hated talking to the other wrestlers, especially the newbies.

"You think people haven't tried to leave?" she questioned back as she opened her eyes and stared at the grimy wall across from her cot, "besides the main doors being guarded and locked up tighter than a nun's asshole, no one knows where the hell we are or what's waiting for us outside of the building. The ones that do try either spend a few months in the cells or they leave in body bags."

"How long have ya been here?" he asked. Jordan could hear the frown in his voice so she didn't bother to look away from the specks of dirt on the walls. She made a mental note to ask for some cleaning supplies so she could tidy the place up; she'd never been one for living in a messy room.

She shrugged, "fifteen years I think."

Jordan heard him make a strangled sound and looked at him momentarily to see him staring at her with wide eyes. "fifteen years?"

"Give or take," she answered simply, "I don't know how much time has passed but John and Peggy bring me a small gift once a year on my 'birthday'." She made air quotes on the word 'birthday' because her birthday had been unknown to everyone so they had just made it the day she had arrived here. And by everyone, she meant John and Peggy; and Wes when he had come into the picture a couple of years ago.

"Have the others been here that long?"

"I've been here the longest if you don't count the staff," she answered tiredly, "the rest have been here for a few years or a few months."

"And ya the only woman?" he continued to ask and Jordan found herself glaring suspiciously at him. "I don't mean it like that," he hurried to assure her, realising how his question must have sounded, "I'm just curious as to why there are more men than women."

"Women don't last long here," she informed him solemnly.

There was silence for the longest time after her reply that Jordan found herself beginning to fall asleep. "They're gonna come for me," he suddenly stated and Jordan hummed sleepily. "I promise I'll take ya with me when they do," he finished and she heard him shuffling around before he fell silent.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Austin," she muttered quietly, turning on her side to look at him as he did the same.

"Steve," he said softly, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones, "my name's Steve."

"Dallas," she answered as her eyes began to blink closed.

"Is that ya real name?"

"No," she mumbled as her eyes shut fully and didn't reopen, "but it's the only one you're getting."

Chapter Text

Austin had been there for three weeks and she had watched him win every match they put him in. Jordan hadn't really thought he would do all that well; WWE being mainly scripted and all, but the man proved time and time again that he was a good fighter. She still refused to call him by his given name even though she was the only one he had allowed to do so; they weren't friends and she wouldn't treat him as such just because he wanted to feel better about the crappy situation he found himself in.

She did, however, teach him a few submission holds he had never heard of before; not wanting to listen to him piss and moan about being in pain because he got beat up so bad before he won. He had teased her about having a soft spot for him before he had been forced to see Peggy so he could get an ice pack after she had punched him in the face. He still sported the faint yellow bruise and she tried not to smile every time she saw it.

Jordan would be lying if she said he wasn't growing on her though. You couldn't live in such close quarters with a guy like Austin and not have him grow on you. He was like a fungus; growing on her even without her permission. He had taught her a few techniques she hadn't known for when she was facing much larger opponents than herself. So, everyone.

Tonight they would have another tag team match together and Jordan had been sparring with Austin inside the cage for the last hour in preparation for tonight's match. She ducked under his fist with way too much ease and frowned deeply at him. "Stop pulling your punches," she demanded after knocking him on his ass again.

"I don't wanna hurt ya, sweetheart," he retorted as he got back to his feet.

Austin refused to call her Dallas and because he didn't know her real name, he had taken to calling her sweetheart or Lil Bit. She had been tempted to punch him for the nickname before she stopped herself; she had never had a nickname before.

Jordan sent her fist into his stomach before she kicked him in the chest. He stumbled into the corner of the ring and blinked in surprise but she didn't give him a moment of reprieve as she ran up to him. She scaled his body with ease and wrapped her legs around his head before she bent her body back and sent him over her and to the ground where she was still on top of him.

He blinked up at her from between her legs before he smirked. "If ya wanted to sit on my face, all ya had to do was ask, Lil Bit," he teased.

She rolled her eyes but found herself grinning, having gotten used to his sense of humour and harmless sexual innuendos over the last few weeks. "In your dreams, Austin," she replied as she rolled off of him and effortlessly got back to her feet before she held a wrapped hand out to him.

"Every damn night," he grinned as he took her hand.

"Oof," she grunted as she was suddenly tugged to the ground and found herself pinned beneath two hundred and fifty-one pounds of wrestler. He had her arms pinned to her sides with his legs and had managed to find a spot where she wouldn't be able to buck him off her. Basically, he had won. "Damn it," she hissed as she leaned her head back against the floor of the ring, "get off me, would you?! Damn, you're heavy."

"Pure muscle, Lil Bit," he said, sitting straight up to flex his biceps as she rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

There was a cough from outside of the ring and they both turned their heads to see John looking at them. Well, he was looking at Austin. Okay, he was glaring at Austin. The man rolled his own eyes and took his sweet ass time getting off of her just to spite the older man. Jordan thought their petty rivalry was ridiculous; Jordan had already made herself quite clear to Austin that there would never be anything between them.

It wasn't that Austin wasn't attractive; you'd have to be blind not to see that the man was handsome. He just wasn't her type. She had seen a few fighters come into the ring that were just like Austin and none of them had ever done anything for her; she doubted that would change because of the man now standing in front of her and offering her his hand.

Not liking that he had gotten a shot in at her, Jordan immediately kicked out at his knees. He hunched over, grabbing his knee with a curse as she wrapped her legs around his head once more and used them to throw him to the ground before she jumped to her feet with a triumphant grin. She was sure her cheeks would hurt from the amount of grinning she had done since Austin had arrived but he made her feel like a carefree teenager hanging out with her BFF or whatever they called it now. It was nice; while it lasted.

"What's up?" she asked John as she got out of the ring and made her way towards the older man.

"We've got another newbie," John replied with a sour look on his face.

"Already?" Jordan asked, surprised; the boss usually waited a couple of months before she recruited another person and she didn't think her boss would so that anytime soon with how popular Austin was.

John nodded solemnly. "She's puttin' him with you tonight before your tag team match," he informed her slowly, "Dallas, he's fifteen."

She cursed every god, goddess, and deity in existence as she heard the boys age; and that's all he was, a boy. A kid that had no business being in a place like this. He wouldn't survive the night; he was just there to hype the crowd. Jordan knew the crowd loved the events where someone died and the boss usually forced her into the ring for those kinds of events. The more powerful men were aroused by a woman with the power to end a life and the women they came with felt empowered by a powerful woman. These events were real moneymakers and Jordan hated them more than the regular fights.

"That doesn't explain why you're here, John," she continued as she grabbed her towel and wiped off her face before she took a long drink from her water bottle.

"She wants you to train him. Now."

Jordan's eyes bugged at his words. "No fucking way," she growled after swallowing the water, "I don't train anyone I compete against. She knows that."

"She doesn't care," he told her crossly, "he'll be here in five. I think it's finally catchin' up to him just what he signed up for. Kids scared as hell."

"Good," she said as she threw her towel back down, "he should be downright terrified."

"You were him once, Dallas."

"And I was terrified my first fight," she answered, "and my second. And my third. I had the fear beaten outta me, John; this kid won't get the chance. All I can promise is I'll make it quick."

John frowned but nodded before the door was thrown open as this slip of a teenage boy walked in. "Jesus Christ," Jordan groaned as she looked him over, "she must be desperate if she's hiring twigs now."

"Play nice," John warned her sternly.

She blinked owlishly at him before asking innocently, "don't I always?"

John simply shook his head and motioned for the kid to get inside the cage. Jordan didn't miss the incredulous and worried look on Austin's face as she entered behind the newbie but she ignored him as she focused on the task ahead of her. She slipped into the ring, eyeing up the kid before stepping forward with a crack of her knuckles.


"Don't start somethin' you know won't end well, son."

Steve frowned at the older guard that wasn't even looking at him and was instead watching Lil Bit as she circled the shaking boy in the middle of the ring. He had known she had been there a few years but he had never asked how old she was or how old she had been when she had first come to this hell hole. The boy couldn't be older than sixteen and it made him wonder just how young Lil Bit had been when she had been 'recruited'.

"There's nothin' goin' on between us," he replied as he crossed his arms over his sweaty chest.

"But you want there to be," the guard, John, grunted, "I've seen that look in your eyes in the eyes of other fighters and I'll tell you what I told them.

"Dallas ain't like the women that show up here to watch this crap or the women who show up to your matches. She's no ring rat. She's been through hell and she's still standin' today. Girls like that... women like that; they're not the kind of women you fuck and leave. She deserves better than that."

"I don't wanna fuck her," Steve grunted, already knowing it was a lie. He had thought about fucking her since that first night but that was more because she was a gorgeous woman and he hadn't gotten laid in a while. "I wanna be her friend; get her to open up to me," he said; that part was true. When he ignored his libido, Steve did want to befriend the crazy little spitfire because she seemed like someone he'd get along with easily.

John scoffed beside him and Steve turned to see that his eyes had darkened considerably. "Tell me that after tonight's match and I might just believe you," he growled before he turned and hurriedly left the room.

Steve wondered what the hell the older man meant by that but before he could question it further, he heard a high pitched squeal and turned to see Lil Bit had put the boy in a chokehold. He watched as the boy struggled before he became sluggish and his eyes eventually closed. Only then did Lil Bit release her hold on him and Steve could see that her eyes held a cold sort of detachment in them; the look made him shiver.

She stood up abruptly and practically flew from the cage, picking up her water and towel before she shoved past him and out of the room as fast as she could without actually running. Steve watched after her and frowned as the door closed with a resounding bang.

His gaze moved back to the boy who was still passed out and Steve once again found himself wondering how the hell all of this existed without it having been shut down or at least searched by the cops. He watched as one of the guards hoisted the boy off the ground easily before he dragged him out of the room and Steve decided he'd go find Lil Bit and see if she'd tell him what was bothering her.

He doubted she would, but he had to try.


Steve stood outside of the cage as the kid from earlier stood shakily in the corner. He had been given some shorts and hand wraps but it didn't help in making him look any more like a fighter. His attention was drawn away from the kid as the announcer called out Lil Bit and he turned to watch her entrance.

He had seen her in her fight clothes that first night he had gotten here but she hadn't been put in the ring much since; probably on doctors' orders. His eyes were immediately drawn to her hips and thighs; personally, he'd always been a legs guy and even with her short stature, Lil Bit had gorgeous legs. He could see the muscle definition from where he stood in the crowd and knew those legs could be deadly wrapped around a person.

Of course, his raging libido thought that moment was perfect to put an image in his head of her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her; her head thrown back and her eyes closed as she moaned in pleasure. He groaned and physically shook the thought from his head; he wanted to be her friend, not fuck it up by fucking her simply because he was a horny bastard that hadn't been laid in close to a month.

Steve moved his eyes up from her legs and found his eyes settling on her six-pack. They weren't faint like some women preferred when they wanted to look 'fit' but not 'bulky'; instead, Lil Bit seemed very confident with her well defined and very visible six-pack. Steve had never really been a fan of women with visible six packs himself but it suited her and her confidence was just far too sexy to ignore.

His eyes slowly ascended to her small breasts which looked two cup sizes bigger tonight because of the push-up bra her boss 'insisted' she wear. Steve only knew she wore the push-up bra because he had seen her without it when they were training and her chest looked much smaller than it did right now when she was wearing her sports bra. He could probably fit both of her breasts in one of his large hands with room to spare.

Her face was next and he saw that her jaw was clenched tightly and that dead look was still in her eyes. She had been avoiding him since earlier which meant he hadn't had the chance to talk to her about what put that look in her eyes. Even now, she refused to look at him as she walked passed and he looked after her with a frown.

The match began all too soon and Steve watched as Lil Bit seemed to coach the boy through what to do. He almost smiled as he watched her take a hit to the face that she could have easily blocked. The kid got her to the ground and Steve could see that she was making a show of letting him pin her before she bucked him off.

It was at that moment that something changed in her and Steve watched as she began raining blow after blow down on the kid who had no time to block or dodge them. She was unrelenting in her pursuit of him and when she did get him into submission, Steve felt himself shiver at the violent look in her eyes.

She looked out over the cheering crowd before her eyes connected with his and she twisted the boy's neck. Steve felt horror fill him as he watched, almost in slow motion, as the boy's body fell to the ground where he remained motionless. The crowd roared with elation at the obvious kill as John and a younger guard came into the cage and dragged out the lifeless body.

Her eyes never left him and they seemed to mock him as she allowed the announcer to raise her hand to the air as the victor of the match.

Steve felt sick; like he might throw up after what he had just witnessed.

How could he have been so wrong about her? He had thought she was the victim in all of this just as he was. Now, he knew better.

She wasn't a victim.

She was a murderer.


"What the fuck was that?!" Jordan screamed as she entered her room and saw Austin standing with his back to her, his shoulders tense. "You threw that fucking match on purpose! You could've gotten us both killed!"

"Like you killed that kid?" Austin asked her coldly and it felt like she had just been slapped in the face. She hadn't felt guilty for what she had had to do over the years in a very long time but his detached voice made her physically recoil as guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. "Jesus Christ, Dallas, he couldn't have been older than sixteen..."

"Fifteen," she interrupted as she moved over to her side of the room and began unwrapping her hands. Her knuckles were bruised but she wasn't in the mood to go see Peggy for any ice. "He was fifteen," she continued when he remained silent.

Jordan suddenly found herself spun around and pinned to the wall by the furious man. His blue eyes glared at her with such hatred that she almost wanted to recoil. Almost.

"And that doesn't bother ya, does it?" he hissed, his face centimeters from her and his warm breath ghosting over her face.

"Of course it bothers me," she replied fiercely, her temper rising, "I'm not a complete monster."

Austin scoffed, "could've fooled me, Dallas."

And that's how she knew she had lost him. She hadn't even had him in the first place but she had officially lost him now. Perhaps that was for the best though; she didn't want any more things to lose in her life. However, she still wasn't going to take his shit; no matter how righteous it was.

"Let go of me, Austin," she told him firmly as his hold on her tightened. When he didn't do as she asked, Jordan brought her knee up and into his groin. The large man doubled over and Jordan used his pain to get away from him and headed towards her bathroom. "I want you gone when I get out," she told him coldly, building her walls up as she kept her back to him, "I don't care what you tell the boss but you need your own room."

She slammed the door behind her before leaning against it heavily as she blinked back tears she refused to allow fall. Jordan refused to cry over Austin or that kid from earlier; she had no reason to feel guilty, she was doing what she needed to do. Her body relaxed when she heard the door of her bedroom slam closed before she turned around, opened the door, and peaked into the room.

Austin's stuff was gone and Jordan quickly ran to the door to lock it before she sprinted back to the bathroom. She knew she wouldn't have long before the boss got here and so she didn't waste time as she quickly stripped down and jumped into the shower. Barely fifteen minutes later and Jordan was jumping out again.

She had just slipped into a pair of sweat pants and a shirt she didn't remember having before the door opened and she came face to face with her very pissed off boss.

"We need to have a little talk, Dallas," she said coldly as she stepped aside and allowed her two thugs into the room.

Jordan shivered, already knowing this was going to hurt.


One of the few things that didn't completely suck about this place was the gym which Steve was all too happy to utilise to blow off some excess steam. He had already demanded another room only to be told that his living arrangements wouldn't be changed but the boss would be having a talk with Dallas. He hadn't seen anything wrong with the woman wanting to talk to one of her fighters, so he simply nodded before he found himself wailing on the punching bag before him.

A few of the other fighters were in the gym with him but none had bothered to approach him since he had laid out that asshole that had made Dallas pass out their first match. He preferred it this way; he had seen the news whilst he was here and knew the entire world had been informed that he had gone missing. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be found and then he could leave this place behind and forget all about it.

There was a loud commotion out in the hall and Steve looked up to see the other fighters quickly scurry out of the room. Curious, he followed them and saw the boss' two guards laying into someone as the small woman talked down at them condescendingly.

He watched on as the elderly doctor he had come to know as Peggy ran down the hall, her face set as she rushed the two men and dragged one of them back with more strength than she should have had. "That's enough!" she screamed as she kept yanking on the burly man's arm, "she's had enough."

The petite woman looked up from the huddled body and nodded at the guard that Peggy was holding. Steve wasn't the only man to take a step forward when he suddenly turned and backhanded the older woman across the face. However, at her pained yell, the huddled body on the floor seemed to get a second wind and was tackling the guard before anyone could blink.

Steve knew that hair anywhere and felt horror and guilt spread through him at the sight of her battered body. Her right arm was clearly broken but that didn't seem to stop her from laying into the guard with her left hand. There was a craziness in her eyes that almost frightened him as she continued to punch the guard in the face repeatedly, elbowing the other guard when he tried to pull her off.

He watched as she kept hitting him until his body fell limp. Even then, she continued to strike at him; her hand covered in blood. She only seemed to break from her daze when Peggy grabbed her arm and Steve watched as the older woman didn't even flinch when Dallas' dark eyes connected with her grey ones.

"He's gone, baby," he heard her whisper from where he stood, "you can stop now."

Before she could reply, Dallas was being lifted off the dead man by her hair and Steve took another step forward at her pained cry. He stopped when the 'boss' looked at him and shook her head with a clear warning in her eyes.

"That'll cost you, Dallas," he heard the petite woman hiss as she held Dallas' face in her hand, her nails digging into Dallas' cheek. "Tomorrow night we'll have our very first three on one, anything goes match," she smirked, "you vs. DeMarco, Gregory, and... Austin."

He felt himself go cold at her words but found himself unable to protest as Peggy began to protest.

"She can't fight!" she objected loudly, "her arm is broken!"

"Put it in a cast," was the reply she got.

Peggy was going to continue arguing but Steve could see Dallas frantically shaking her head at the older woman. Peggy fell quiet but if looks could kill, anyone who dared to have harmed Dallas would be six feet under right now.

Dropping her hold on Dallas, the woman turned away, took a step forward before she paused. The slap echoed in the large hall and the force of it sent Dallas out of the guard's grasp and into the wall where she crumbled to the ground with a pained whimper that pulled at his heart.

She left after that, taking her guard-dog with her as the other fighters quickly found something else to do. All except DeMarco who, surprisingly, hurried forward to pick Dallas up with a lot more gentleness than he had used in the ring a week ago.

"Damn, Dallas," he cursed as he positioned her so she was as comfortable as she could be, "the hell you do to piss her off?"

Dallas didn't reply, a pathetic whimper leaving her lips before Peggy ordered DeMarco to take Dallas to her room so she could treat her. Steve stepped forward to follow them but was halted by little wrinkled hands pressing firmly against his chest. He looked down to see Peggy glaring disapprovingly at him.

"Do you see yet?" she asked him sternly, "she's a good girl who got dealt a hard hand and has done what she's needed to in order to survive. She did that boy a favour; this place changes you and not for the better."

"She killed him."

"She saved him," she said strongly, "from a fate far worse than death. You've been here three weeks; she's been here since she was sixteen. She's watched fighters come and go, all of them leaving in a body bag. Tell me you know someone who could witness that and not be changed by it?"

With that said, Peggy turned and hurried down the hall, leaving Steve with a lot to think about and an increasing pit in his stomach.


The match had been postponed after Peggy had practically squared off with the boss over Lil Bit's health. It had been three days and Steve hadn't seen or spoken to the small woman. She hadn't returned to her room and he couldn't find her in Peggy's little makeshift nurse's office. Peggy was refusing to tell him where she was as well and you'd think in a compound that you couldn't get out of, there wouldn't be many places for her to hide; especially with her being injured so he was both surprised and frustrated at how well she was doing with avoiding him.

He had some time to think about everything he had seen and what Peggy had told him. Steve had concluded that he might hate what he had witnessed but he didn't know the full story either. He had been here just over three weeks and Lil Bit had been here for over a decade; who knew the kind of person he would be if he was forced to live in a place like this for that long.

He wanted to apologise but that wouldn't work unless he could find her.

Steve walked out of the bathroom; a towel slung low over his hips. He had a match tonight and could already feel his body protesting at the idea. The boss didn't care what condition the fighters were in as long as they did what she told them to do, whenever she told them to do it. He hadn't been told who he was fighting but so far, Steve had had very little problems winning his fights.

He had just pulled on his sweat pants when he heard angered voices from down the hall and Steve found himself curious when he recognised both of them. Quietly, he opened the door enough that their voices filtered in more clearly for him to hear. It was Lil Bit and John; both of them seemed to be arguing about something.

"You can't keep doing this, kid," the older man hissed, "she'll catch on sooner or later."

"She hasn't yet, John," Lil Bit replied angrily, "and what more do you expect me to do? I refuse to think my life is that far out of my hands that she gets to control everything about it."

"Just think this through, Dallas," John urged her concernedly, "there's no way you can hide this one; she'll find out for sure."

"If that's what it takes then I'll deal with the consequences."

"You know what the consequences will be," John growled, "don't make me have to witness that; you're like a daughter to me, I won't stand by and watch you destroy yourself."

"Then don't," she told him softly, and Steve could hear the way her voice wobbled, "you've done enough for me, John; I know she offered to let you and Peggy retire. I also know you both stayed for me, but I don't want to be the reason you guys die in this place."

"So, you'll die in this place instead?"

"If I have to."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation but Steve continued to stand by the door as he heard them walk away. He took a step back, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he had just heard. A pit was forming in his stomach but Steve shook it off as he turned around to prepare for his match that night. He needed to focus on that; after, he'd come back to what he had just heard.

He'd get to the bottom of all of this.


He was fucking furious. His match just so happened to be the anything goes match with him, DeMarco, and another wrestler all squaring off with Lil Bit who was still in a fucking cast. Her lip was split and half her face was bruised and still slightly swollen. Ugly bruising ran up her right arm, disappearing into the cast and her tank top. Her other arm had a large handprint bruised into it and he could see the little crescent shaped markings on her cheeks from where that deplorable bitch had dug her nails into Lil Bit's face.

"Man, even I think this is going too far," he heard DeMarco mutter as they waited for the bell to begin the match.

The third member of their fight, some asshole called George, merely scoffed as he eyed Lil Bit hungrily. "Personally, I can't wait to break that pretty lil face even more," he laughed and Steve felt his hands clenching tightly. "Fucking bitch deserves everything that comes to her," he finished with a sneer that Steve immediately wanted to punch off.

There were weapons strewn around the cage including a baseball bat, a fucking knife, and several other things that would definitely be illegal in a WWE match. Though, he did see some tables, chairs, and ladders as well. Steve just wanted to be anywhere but there; or, at least, on Lil Bit's side so she wouldn't be looking at him with that distrust shining brightly in her eyes. Right now, he was her opponent; he was also the guy who has accused her of being a murderer and also the guy responsible for the severe beating she had received a few days earlier.

The bell rang and Steve watched as George ran forward, his fist already raised and aimed at Lil Bit's face. Steve didn't move and wasn't so surprised to see that DeMarco didn't move either. He refused to participate in this and he didn't care what happened to him afterwards because of his disobedience.

He watched as Lil Bit ducked under the sloppy punch before she used her cast to strike George in the face. Steve watched her face contort with pain but she didn't say anything or make any noise of discomfort. She was quick to deal out a kick to George's groin that had both him and DeMarco flinching. George crumbled to the ground and Steve looked up to see that Lil Bit now had her eyes on DeMarco who didn't look to be in any rush to get over to her.

"You know we don't have a choice," he heard Lil Bit tell DeMarco over the cheering crowd, "fight or die, DeMarco; and you know only one of us is getting out of this ring."

That was news to him. Yeah, he had been told that this was an anything goes match but surely no one expected only one person to survive it. Steve watched DeMarco nod solemnly before his eyes hardened and he ran at Lil Bit.

It didn't last long. Lil Bit seemed to be on a mission tonight and Steve had to look away as she scaled DeMarco like a tree before she snapped his neck. Then her eyes fell on him and Steve didn't know what he was going to do as she took a step towards him. He wasn't going to die in this hell hole but he certainly wasn't going to kill anyone either. That wasn't who he was and he never wanted it to be who he was.

Lil Bit had barely taken another step towards him when she was suddenly grabbed from behind and thrown across the ring. Steve grimaced when she cried out after landing on her healing arm. This match was a death sentence for someone who was still healing from the injuries she had sustained at the hands of that bitch they called a boss. She had been put in this ring as a punishment and Steve once again felt guilt settle into his stomach at knowing he was responsible for this.

Steve snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a loud thump and looked up to see that Lil Bit had just barely managed to dodge the baseball bat that had been aimed at her head. The look of fear in her eyes that she had unwittingly revealed for a split moment made pushed Steve into action and he strode further into the ring. His hand wrapped around the thickest part of the bat just as George was sending it back down on Lil Bit.

Ripping the bat from George's hands, Steve threw it out of the ring. He saw George eying the knife just outside of the ring and shook his head. "Don't even fuckin' think about it," he growled as he stood protectively in front of Lil Bit as she tried to get to her feet.

"You're supposed to be on my side," George sneered, "you heard the bitch; it's us or her and personally, I never fucking liked her much anyway."

"You weren't saying that when you were trying to get into my pants last year," he heard Lil Bit hiss from behind him and Steve grunted as George punched him in the face, knocking him out of George's path before he was tackling Lil Bit.

"You fucking wish I'd fuck you, you little slut," George growled and Steve could see he was strangling Lil Bit who managed a choked laugh.

"I'd sooner become celibate than go anywhere near your pencil dick," she said before she spat in his face.

Steve got there a moment too late; George's fist connecting with Lil Bit's nose and breaking it upon impact. He ripped the asshole off the smaller fighter and tossed him aside before he held his hand out in offer to Lil Bit.

He smiled when she took it before she suddenly kicked him hard in the knee and suddenly she was standing behind him; her hands poised to snap his neck like she had done to DeMarco minutes earlier.

"Don't do this," he urged her, his hands coming up to her own as he tried to pry them away from his neck, "you don't have to do this."

He could hear her boss yelling profanities and demanding that the cage be opened and the match stopped. Obviously, things weren't going to plan and Lil Bit was doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

"I know," she whispered into his ear, her voice sad, "but I'm still going to."

He saw the guard fling open the cage and at least a dozen more run into the cage.

"I'm so sorry… Steve," she mumbled before he felt his neck being turned and everything went black.


Everything after the match had been a blur for Jordan and now she found herself forced into a chair in her boss' office as she waited the woman's arrival. She didn't have to wait long; no doubt, the older woman had been to check and make sure she had really killed her main attraction.

"You stupid bitch!"

Ah, so she had been made aware that the man was dead. Jordan knew what was going to happen; she knew that she had fucked up monumentally the moment her hands had gone around his neck.

"Did you forget who's fucking in charge around here?" the woman continued to yell, "me! I am! You do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it! If I told you to jump right now you better fucking bet your answer would be 'how high?'! I told you to break him!"

"I did," Jordan answered, standing up and squaring off with the pissed off woman for the first time in her entire life, "I broke his neck; consider him thoroughly broken."

The two women sized each other up and for the first time in a very long time, Jordan felt no fear. She knew what was going to happen to her; what did she have to fear anymore? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

"Don't fuck with me, little girl," her boss sneered, "I don't tolerate disobedience from my fighters. I own you; your life is in my hands. Or have you forgotten just what I'm capable of?"

Jordan gave a mirthless laugh. "Forgotten?" she mocked, "how can anyone fucking forget when you so graciously look for any occasion to make an example of what you're capable of. Or, more specifically, what your dogs are capable of. Face it, Jennifer, you're nothing without your fucking guard dogs and I already put one down; what's one more to add to the fucking list?"

She knew the slap was coming but that didn't make it sting any less. Never had Jordan struck the woman in front of her but she seemed to have had a big bowl of recklessness for breakfast that morning because her palm had barely touched Jordan's face when Jordan sent her fist into the other woman's face. She was done cowering before this bitch and she was certainly done holding back on her desire to beat the shit out of her too. What did she have to lose? Nothing.

"You don't get to fucking touch me anymore," Jordan told Jennifer, standing over her glaring boss, "you don't get to tell me what to do. You wanna kill me? Than kill me; stop fucking threatening me because I'm starting to think you're full of shit."

Large arms grabbed her around the shoulders a moment later and everything inside of her froze when she heard the person behind her inhale deeply. She didn't have to see him to know who it was; his presence alone was enough to set everything inside of her on edge. The Beast continued to sniff her hair and Jordan was disgusted by herself when she let loose a scared whimper.

Jennifer had taken her small distraction to stand up and right herself, her confident smirk back in place now that the power had tipped in her favour.

"Oh, Dallas, I do hope you enjoyed that little moment of bravado," Jennifer coo'd mockingly, "because I can guarantee you're gonna pay for it dearly."

She felt the Beast's grip on her tighten to a painful degree.