Pitbabe S2, Chapter 34 pg 5
Pitbabe S2, Chapter 34 pg 5
“You… you said there was a bomb in the lab,” Babe said through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with resentment. That statement gave me another crucial piece of information: not only had they made a deal, but Babe had been threatened into doing these things. “How many more lies are you going to tell?”
Tony knows full well that neither Winner nor his lackeys could ever bring me here by force. If they tried, I’d fight back harder, and in the end, I’d escape. The only way to get me here was to make me come willingly, and the only reason I’d agree to come is Babe.
Babe isn’t foolish enough to be tricked by Tony, but he had no choice. Tony used my life as leverage. Whether it’s true or not, Babe wouldn’t dare bet that it’s a bluff. If it turned out to be real, it would mean he chose to ignore my life or death. So, his raid on the lab wasn’t an attack or intimidation—it was an attempt to save everyone in the lab.
That’s also why Babe has Tony’s men tailing his every step. Tony fears Babe might pull something. Meanwhile, Babe has to do everything to convince Tony he won’t betray him.
At least I can rest easy knowing Babe doesn’t actually want to bash my head with a gun.
“As many lies as it takes, as long as you obey me,” Tony says flatly. He seems done arguing. All he wants now is likely my blood for some purpose—definitely not for anything good. In the mind of someone like him, there’s nothing but his own gain. “Stop being stubborn, Babe. Don’t make me get cruel with you.”
Tch!
“Stop acting like you’re the nice guy,” Babe snaps.
He’s still the Babe I know. He’s ready to fight to the bitter end. Instead of backing down, he pulls a small pocketknife from his jacket, steps back to stand by my chair, and raises his guard, ready to fight, heedless of the fact that his opponents outnumber him ten to one.
Tony rolls his eyes, annoyed at Babe’s defiance. He doesn’t seem scared—probably thinks a single small knife can’t change much. He’s likely more irritated at his own men for letting Babe sneak a weapon in, when everyone’s weapons should’ve been confiscated before entering. It’s slowing down his plans.
“Babe…” I start.
“Don’t even say it,” Babe cuts me off, still glaring at the guards circling closer. “If you can’t figure out how to get off that chair, don’t complain. This is the best I can do.”
“I’m telling you to stop because I know,” I say urgently. “I know you’re skilled, but one against ten? You’ll just get hurt for nothing.”
“And you’re just gonna let everything we’ve done go to waste here?”
I freeze, stunned. I never thought my efforts meant that much to Babe. All this time, he’s been mocking them, calling them “nonsense,” “crazy,” or “utter garbage.” My intentions, which he once told me to choose between him and them, the goals he acted like he despised and would never understand—now he’s fighting with his life to protect them.
“If you let him succeed, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” he says.
To think I ever believed he didn’t care about me…
“And I don’t want to see you moping for the rest of your life either. It’s annoying.”
With those words, I lose any desire to stop him. I let Babe charge at those suited lackeys, watching him swing that tiny pocketknife.
Stab!
His opponents came at him one after another. Babe landed a powerful kick on one, but another caught him with a punch that snapped his head to the side.
Ugh!
The blow looked heavy, but even so, Babe gritted his teeth and swung his fist back. To say the knife in his hand was useless would be an insult—he wielded it with deadly precision, stabbing the thugs until they howled in pain. Blood splattered the floor, painting it like some twisted piece of art. One guy took two stabs to the chest, screaming in agony before collapsing with a thud, motionless. Another was stabbed in the thigh, limping as he tried to sneak up behind Babe to choke him. But my shout warned him in time, and Babe spun, slamming his leg into the guy’s neck. As the idiot stumbled and fell, Babe stomped his face repeatedly until he stopped moving.
Blood smeared the floor around my chair, the metallic stench thick and nauseating, but I felt an odd thrill. Watching Babe tear through them with such ferocity filled me with shame—shame for underestimating him, thinking one against ten was too much for him to handle. From what I saw now, the ones deserving pity were those suited-up goons.
How could I forget how badass my boyfriend is?
Babe’s impressive performance continued. More than half his opponents were down, the rest battered. By all accounts, he was going to win. Except he overlooked the most critical thing.
Click!
“Enough games.”
The cold barrel of a gun pressed against my temple. Tony’s icy voice froze Babe, who was moments from defeating his lackeys. He turned to look at me, eyes wide with shock. In that split second of paralysis, a guard rushed in, sweeping Babe’s legs out from under him. Before he could recover, the guard pinned him face-down, pressing a knee into his back.
“Think I’ve got all day to play with you?” Tony snapped, irritation clear in his voice. He jerked his head sharply, signaling the cowering doctor in the corner to do his job.
Babe, pinned to the floor, struggled with everything he had, but exhaustion and injuries left him unable to break free. Our eyes met. I tried to tell him through my gaze that it was okay, but it only seemed to hurt him more.
Babe was crying. And I could only sit there, motionless, with a gun to my head, watching as the unethical doctor drew my blood.
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