The word swept through the town like a brush fire in drought. It was happening, at last.
Sara Hall had called out Kendra Evans.
This was a hatred that had simmered from adolescence. A hundred exchanges of vicious words. A dozen skirmishes broken up by bystanders. Lit fuses don’t smolder forever, though. Sara challenged Kendra to fight her at The Barn.
The entire town held its breath. The unwritten law was clear. No one intervenes with a fight at The Barn. Not friends, not family, not the police.
I was there to see it, me and all the other men who ringed the walls. They wanted an audience; they wanted witnesses.
God, they were both stunning. Their bodies gleamed in the overhead lights. Their nipples….fucking rigid.
There were no rules. No limits. No end, until the winner was satisfied that the loser had suffered enough.
Sara fling herself at Kendra, a snarling projectile. Her knee smashed into Kendra’s sternum. The brunette was flung back, her head whiplashed. It was a brutal, deliberate blow to her chest, just above her heart.
“BITCH!!” Sara shrieked.
“Damn,” the man next to me muttered. “She wants to kill her.”
Sara buried her hands in Kendra’s hair, but for nothing as girlish as to pull it. There were gasps around the wall as she brutally slammed Kendra’s skull against one of the support beams for the hayloft. The sound of it was shocking. This was for real. Kendra’s left breast was crushed against the oak as well.
Once a boil of hate is lanced, cruelty oozes out.
