It’d been a long time since I was out in front of people, but for some reason my usual pre-match jitters weren’t there. I couldn’t even remember the name of the girl I had been thinking about over and over ever since I’d gotten back to America.
There was only the ring and my opponent, an intense focus I hadn’t felt since the Thai jungles. Hours of training in incredible heat and humidity had hardened me to distractions.
Once in the ring, I stripped down to my shorts, my hands wrapped and ready. People spoke words, but I couldn’t hear them. I couldn’t see them. I could only see my opponent. Time ceased to flow, and I felt nothing but my heart beating softly.
Then we were faced off, circling each other. Somehow the round had started. His hands flashed out and I blocked them.
I dance back, testing his speed with a few jabs.
He swatted them. He was angry, a snarling bull. He wanted to make a move, to see what I was made of.
I floated back. The crowd was screaming, but I couldn’t hear them.
He feinted. I didn’t fall for it.
Then he made his move. He juked forward, trying to grapple me, but my feet snapped out quicker than he could have realized.
I caught him right in the face.
Blood splashed from his nose.
It was all fury and excitement as I lunged.
He stumbled back, shocked, in pain, his eyes wide. He thought he was fast.
But I was faster.
My fists found him then. Pummeling him.
I wanted to break him. Kill him if I had to. I was ready to smash his skull into pieces.
Fury and intensity rolled through me as my fists snapped out, again and again, pounding and destroying. I forgot that the thing I was beating was a human, an actual person. He was just a bag of meat to me then, an enemy that needed to be destroyed.
And then the ref was there, pulling me back. I realized that my opponent was down on the ground and the bell was ringing.
The night came rushing back in a cacophony of sound and emotion.
People were pressed in on all sides in the locker room. It was packed, promoters everywhere, everyone congratulating me.
“Fuck, man,” Ronnie said. “When did you learn to move that fast?”
“Thailand,” I grunted at him, grinning.
He laughed. “That shit was crazy! You made that kid look like a fool!”
I basked in my victory, in the crowd, but my eyes kept scanning for her. For Alexa.
I’d come back to myself as soon as I had won the match. It was always a shit show after a knockout, especially a fast and brutal knockout like that. People were screaming and cheering. I scanned the crowd, trying to find her, but people kept getting in my face, congratulating me, wanting something from me. I had nothing to give them.
But I was elated. Nothing felt better than a victory, especially a victory you needed so desperately. And I needed to show everyone what I was still made of. That I was still a threat.
“Hey,” Ronnie said. “Isn’t that your stepsister?”
And then I spotted her, standing across the room, looking lost and shy. She was wearing a low-cut dress, all tight and fucking sexy, making her tits look incredible. She looked out of places standing among the fighting crowd, almost as if she was pure and everyone else was tainted. I quickly walked through the crowd, elbowing my way toward her.
Her whole face lit up as soon as she saw me. I felt something right then, something that was almost as good as the fight itself.
“Hey, sis,” I grunted.
“Hey, yourself. Congrats on your win.”
“Thanks.”
She stood close to me, and I could sense exactly what I expected. Behind her smile, there was a tinge of fear. Subtle, but it was definitely there. She was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t tell if it was because of the crowd or because she had just watched me beat a man to a pulp.
I had known she would respond that way. I had known it would scare her to see me fight like that, to see me really let loose and try to destroy another person. She wasn’t used to it; it wasn’t a part of her life like it was a part of mine.
“What did you think?” I asked her.
“It was . . . exciting.”
“Liar,” I grunted, standing close.
“I’m not lying.”
“I can see right through you.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
She sighed. “Fine. Okay. It was intense. It was easy when I didn’t know the guys fighting, but watching you like that was a totally different thing.”
“And now you’re a little scared of me,” I said, smirking at her.
“No, I’m not scared.”
“You should be, sis.”
“Why?”
“Because now you know what I’m capable of.”
“Yeah. That’s true. But there’s something else, too.”