This scene would have shown how Holden got the bloody lip Val saw after the football game. Enjoy! ♥
Cade shoved Holden against the cool brick wall of the locker room, pinning him by the throat with his forearm. “What the fuck kind of game are you playing?”
“Football,” he choked out with a mocking grin.
“I’m serious!” Cade shouted and thrust him sharply into the wall again, cutting off nearly all the air to Holden’s lungs.
But the Wind wouldn’t betray him like that.
Holden slowly took a deep breath through the limited space in his crushed windpipe. Then he unlocked the imprisoned energy inside, and blew Cade back a few feet with a sharp burst of wind.
“Back off, Landston,” he threatened in a low growl. “I’m not playing games with Valerie. I told you before, I like her! If you want so badly to be with her, and you think she’d actually choose you over me, then maybe you ought to switch teams, huh?”
“You know I can’t do that,” Cade whispered dangerously.
“I know you won’t do that,” Holden clarified with narrowed eyes.
Cade grit his teeth in frustration. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Just to piss me off.”
“That’s only a perk,” Holden admitted with a cheeky grin. He grabbed his helmet and propped it on his hip. “Anything else, coach? I have a game to get back to.”
“Yeah. Just one more thing.”
Cade swung a steely fist at Holden’s face, the contact instantly drawing blood from his mouth.
Holden bent over and watched the red stream to the floor. He spit, then glanced up. “You don’t want to start this right now, Landston.”
“Oh, but I do, Michaels,” Cade disagreed, and he dropped back into a defensive stance. Waiting.
Righting himself, Holden cracked his neck. He could have the power of the wind on his side in an instant, but that would make him unfairly fast. And it went against the rules of the Modernists, the group of Elementals who repressed their powers and joined the human race as equals. Self-defense was the only exception to that rule, and a fight like this would not be considered ‘self-defense’.
Regardless, Holden was athletic and fast enough even without his element behind him. He smacked Cade’s arms away with his left hand, and with his right, sank a fist into the side of Cade’s nose.
“You gonna play fair?”
Cade pinched his nose to stem the bleeding. “I can kick your ass even without the earth backing me up,” he spat.
Then he was moving, feet slamming against the concrete floor as he tackled Holden to the ground. But Holden was quickly on his feet with Cade’s head in a lock. He jabbed him in the side, stealing the air from his lungs. Then Cade escaped and stabbed a fist into Holden’s mouth. Twice. Cade moved to punch him again, but Holden jerked out of the way.
Tap, tap, tap, tap. Footsteps. They suddenly echoed loudly through the hall.
The boys exchanged an infuriated glance.
“Stay and get caught, why don’t you?” Holden offered.
“Not a chance,” Cade breathed as he darted out the side door, leaving Holden alone in an erratic circle of blood.
Holden lifted his head to the sky and quickly called to the wind. He willed it to blow the evidence away and scatter it on the breeze. In response, the blood beaded up and rolled across the floor, sucked up into an invisible tornado, then disappeared entirely.
Quickly, he covered his damaged face with the helmet, just as Coach Sanders burst through the door.
“Michaels, today! Let’s go!”
“Yes sir,” he agreed evenly, and walked down the hall, then out onto the field for the second half.