I duck under his next swing and whip my right leg out in a short arc. The kick misses. I drop down, flick my head to the side, and leap off one foot, launching a flying jab followed by a knee to his gut, which lands with a hard whack. He stumbles backward, shaking his head.
“Now, this is startin’ to get fun,” he says, punching his gloves together. His grin widens as he comes at me full force.
“I like fun,” I say lunging at him. I get him in a body lock and hook my leg around his. I take him down and the weight of our bodies bounce loudly on the mat.
The crowd roars.
He lands on top of me, and I know timing is key. The second we hit the floor, I grab his elbow and lift my hips for more pulling power. I yank his arm to the side, throw my legs open, and crush him, locking his shoulder in place. Squeezing both knees to the left, I block his face with my hand so he can’t move.
“Damn,” he says between clenched teeth and that wily grin. “You’re a quick fucker.”
“Yeah.” I toss him one of my own wily grins. “I’m kinda known for it.”
His muscles tense beneath my body. I squeeze tighter as he tries to break free from the arm bar I’ve gotten him in. Then I feel his laughter. It vibrates against my shaking thighs. “Yeah,” he seethes between grinding teeth. “Well, you fast little bugger, I think you might have me here,” he says, exhaling even harder between each chuckle.
“Just let me know when you’re ready to give up.” I smile, praying he’s ready. Muscles burning, I’m exhausted.
“I ain’t ever gonna give up.” He glares down at me through dark, unbeatable eyes. “But I do think that you and I could use a break,” his left eyebrow raises, “and maybe a beer.”
“A beer does sound good,” I say, catching from the corner of my eye him tapping out of the game. Every strained muscle in my body relaxes, my legs loosen, and the huge fucker gets off me.
His hand reaches out, and I grab it. He pulls me from the mat, hits me on the back, and throws another wily grin at me. “Good fight.” He nods before exiting the cage.
The ref lifts my arm and the crowd goes wild. “Thunderstruck” bellows from the sound system as I gather my shit, check myself, and finally, make my way out the back door. Once in my apartment, I guzzle down a couple of beers and then take a shower. I wipe the fog from the mirror and stare at my bruised face. Man, that guy did a number on me. Gotta respect the fucker. It was a good fight.
I put some ointment on the cut along my cheek and go get dressed. I’m gonna need a few more brews and maybe even a few shots to numb my hurting body if I’m gonna get any sleep tonight.
I make my way out the door and see Jax coming down the hall. “Hey, buttercup.” I joist my chin, feeling every bruise on my face. “You work till closing tonight?”
“Yeah,” he stops, “was just coming to check on you.” His eyes roam over my destroyed body.
“See the fight?” I ruffle my wet hair, ignoring the fatherly concern.
“He’s gotta be a boxer.” Jax rests his hands on his hips.
“No shit.” I chuckle. “I realized that after the first few jabs to my face. Who is he?”
“Don’t know. Called me last week to sign up for a fight, he knows Rigs. I emailed him the rules. He signed them, sent ‘em back, and paid the fee.”
“Rigs, huh? I don’t trust that guy. He’s shady.”
“Nah, he just don’t talk much. I think it’s got something to do with what he does to get the bills paid, but he’s okay,” Jax says.
“Well, his buddy, TK, he’s one tough fucker.” I rub my chin recalling a few of those powerful hits.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t know anything about him, figured I’d pin him against you. You like a challenge, can handle yourself, and the patrons, they sure do love to see some new blood.” He laughs. “Hope they weren’t too disappointed that it was your blood they got to see tonight.” He grabs my chin and inspects my cheek. “It’s not too deep, shouldn’t leave a scar.” He releases me. “You headed to the bar then?”
“For a couple, yeah.”
“Your redhead is here,” he jabs.
“She’s not mine.” I grimace. “I told you, we’re just friends. I got no interest in her. I haven’t hit that.”
“Yeah,” he says, a smile creeping on his face, “that’s ‘cause after you fuck her, you gotta let her go.” He pats me on the chest. “And you’re not sure if you want to let this one go.”
“Fuck you.” I push his condescending hand from my chest. “Hey, did Slate show up for his fight?”