Bloody Intentions { BL SLOWBURN }

Fifteen : Fight Back

The medic cleared his throat again and leaned in, inspecting the wound. After a moment, he straightened, nodding with a slight shrug.

“It’s already stopped bleeding.” He noted. “Won’t even need stiches.”

Luka shot Damon a defiant look. “Oh look, it’s exactly as I said.”

Damon’s expression remained impassive, though his gaze flicked to the now exposed cut on Luka’s arm. “Bandage it.”

His mouth snapped open. “You cannot be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

Letting out an incredulous huff, Luka shot a look at the medic, silently asking for some backup, but the man only raised his hands, his expression a clear "I’m not getting in the middle of this." With a muttered curse, he stepped away, shaking his head.

“No way.”

Damon took a calm, deliberate step forward. “Sit down.” He ordered.

“No.”

The medic, glancing nervously between them, leaned in, his voice a near-plea. “Just let me bandage it.” He urged, casting a quick, anxious look at Damon. “Please man, don’t do this.”

Luka’s jaw tightened, his muscles tense. “I said no.”

Damon took another slow, menacing step forward and Luka’s fists clenched at his sides, his body braced, ready to fight if he had to. Just as the tension seemed ready to explode the sudden sweep of headlights cut through the darkness and both men watched the approach as the vehicles came to a stop, doors swinging open as several of Luka’s men rushed out. Tony quickly approached.

“We ready?” He asked, his gaze flicking curiously to the medic standing awkwardly nearby before going to the tense standoff between Luka and Damon.

Luka straightened slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He took a deliberate step back, creating some distance between them, daring Damon to follow.

“Let’s go.” He agreed, walking backwards.

Damon’s body remained rigid, his gaze locked on Luka’s retreating form as though debating whether or not to follow. His eyes tracked every step away, a dark intensity smoldering there and for a moment, Luka wondered if the Novak hitman really would come after him.

Tony let out a low breath. “I thought I was about to witness round two.” He muttered half in awe, half in dread.

Luka frowned as he watched Damon finally turn and walk away, his broad shoulders tense beneath the dim lights. A small, unwelcome pang of disappointment tugged at him, an odd sensation he couldn’t quite place.

“Maybe another time.” He said softly.

He continued to walk to the crash site when he spotted something ahead that made his heart jolt.

“Hold up!” He called, striding forward to where Matteo was carrying a barely-conscious Izzy toward a sleek Novak car.

“Mind your own business, De Luca.” He growled over his shoulder.

Luka stepped directly into his path, blocking him. “She’s my business.”

“Step aside.” He demanded, expression twisted in irritation.

“I’m not letting her go with anyone she doesn’t trust.”

The words landed like a blow and for a split second, Matteo recoiled, his mask slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of guilt. He recovered quickly though, jaw tightening as he forced his expression back into a hardened mask.

“She stays with me.” He gritted out.

Luka chuckled, a low, dangerous sound as he stepped closer, his smile cold and sharp, all teeth and menace. “Then it seems we have a problem, Novak, because I’m not letting you go anywhere with her.”

Matteo’s grip on Izzy tightened, his gaze darkening and as if on cue, his ever-loyal shadow appeared at his side.

“There a problem?” Damon asked in a low, even tone, his question seemingly directed at Matteo though his gaze never left Luka.

Luka’s eyes narrowed and he gave a small, humorless laugh. “Depends on your definition.”

Damon’s expression didn’t shift as he took a measured step closer, positioning himself between Matteo and Luka. “Take her.” He murmured.

Matteo didn’t hesitate, turning to head back toward the car, Izzy’s limp form secure in his arms. Luka watched them for a moment, jaw clenched, before he let out a soft, almost resigned sigh.

“I guess that ‘other time’ is now.” He muttered lowly to Tony, his voice carrying a dark edge.

With a deliberate motion, he slid his blade free, its glint catching the dim light. Damon’s gaze flickered to the blade, his posture shifting almost imperceptibly as his own hand hovered near his side. He didn’t draw his weapon, but the subtle tension in his stance was unmistakable, like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, eyes locked onto Luka’s with an intensity that bordered on primal.

“Are you?” Luka smirked, blade held steady.

“You could let this go.”

Luka scoffed, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think I will.” He turned briefly, casting a look over his shoulder to Tony. “Get her.”

Tony nodded and moved toward the car, leaving Luka and Damon face to face. Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Tony approach Matteo, but he didn’t move, his attention flickering back to Luka as he tightened his stance. With a small smirk, Luka swung the blade in a wide arc but Damon sidestepped smoothly, backing away. Luka’s smirk faded as he advanced again, gripping his blade tightly. The dim light cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharpness in his expression as he swung in a quick, practiced arc toward Damon’s shoulder, but Damon didn’t flinch; he merely tilted his body out of the way with a cool precision that only fuelled Luka’s frustration, his anger flaring like a match to gasoline as he sliced through the air with deadly intent.

It soon became clear that Damon’s dodges were almost languid, as if he were barely exerting himself as his gaze remained locked on Luka, dark eyes never leaving him as he evaded each swing. Luka’s jaw clenched, the metallic taste of adrenaline sharpening on his tongue as he swung with increased force, aiming for Damon’s ribs. Damon leaned back just in time, the blade missing him by inches, and Luka let out a snarl of irritation.

“Your footwork is off.” Damon said suddenly, voice steady as he slid out of the way of another vicious swipe.

His hands remained at his sides, fingers loose, betraying not a hint of aggression and that only pissed Luka off more. With a steadying breath, he lunged again, blade glinting as he aimed directly at Damon’s chest and once again, Damon sidestepped swiftly, forcing Luka’s momentum to carry him forward. Fury flashed in Luka’s eyes, his grip on the blade tightening as he turned, face flushed.

“Fight back!” He spat.

Damon merely tilted his head, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. “Why?”

With a snarl, Luka advanced again, the blade slashing through the air but Damon continued to evade, refusing to draw his weapon and retailiate.

“Stop dodging and fight me you f*****g coward!” Luka’s voice was almost a growl, his patience stretched thin as he lunged forward one last time.

Damon’s gaze didn’t waver. He took a single, measured step back, finally lifting his hands just enough to catch Luka’s wrist as the blade came down, halting the momentum in an instant.

He leaned in close, his voice barely more than a whisper against the shell of his ear. “Is this what you wanted?”

For a split second, Luka froze, his breathing ragged, every nerve on high alert as he stared into Damon’s eyes, the intensity between them crackling like a live wire. For the briefest moment, neither moved, the world around them fading into a tense, simmering stillness. Luka’s jaw tightened, his pulse roaring in his ears as he pulled back, struggling against the hold. He wanted to wrench his wrist free, to keep swinging, to prove he could keep up, but Damon’s grip was firm, unmoving. He watched him for a moment, a quiet, knowing gleam in his gaze that infuriated Luka even further.

“Still want to keep going?” Damon’s voice was soft, almost mocking, the words slipping out with a calm that struck Luka like a slap.