Tom and Mendez were two gladiators facing each other in the ring. It was an odd pairing: Tom was lean and athletic, while Mendez was a slow, hulking sack of muscle. Their fingers curled around imaginary weapons as they circled each other. The cruelest thing of all, though, was the sight of Jodi’s face, leering at the spectacle like a nihilistic empress.

She wasn’t even pretty anymore.

Not to me. Jodi was a monster. She’d turned the three of us against each other with savage glee.

She grabbed my waist and yanked me up against her body. “I’m glad you came to see me,” she cackled, never once taking her eyes off the hell that was about to break loose behind me.

I won’t lie… perversely, I liked seeing Jodi’s rawest form. She was delightfully wicked. She put her snaky tongue down my throat and I at once forgot my surroundings.

When I opened my eyes, I had been swallowed up in a flurry of fists and elbows, the macabre figure of Jodi barely visible on the sidelines, screaming cheers for everyone, and no one.