This wasn’t how the fight was supposed to go.
Fuck. I held on to Gator, but he continued to jab me in the gut, so I pulled away and kicked his thigh.
Contact.
Fucking finally. He stumbled just enough to give me time to regain some ground, as well as my footing. I came back at him again, but he blocked with his arm. I was getting winded. I was also getting pissed at myself. I needed to turn things around if I was going to win this thing, but I couldn’t find a fucking opening. I blocked more and more of his advances until the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the first round.
I went back into the corner, and the guys cleaned me up. I allowed myself to glance over at Kenzie’s still empty seat. She had to have gone home. Damn it. I hoped she was okay.
The second round was more of the same. I made a few good hits, but he kept me on the run for a good bit. When the second round was over, I was starting to fucking hate myself.
I met Jonah and Cade, who brought water and helped wipe all the blood from my face. I was bleeding from a few different places.
Unable to stop myself, I glanced over to Kenzie’s empty chair again.
Cade saw and followed my gaze. “She’s up in my seat with Alexa. Row fifteen.” He pointed over and up a little. I scanned the area he’d indicated until, at last, I found her. The arena was dark, but I could recognize her features in the soft light that touched the crowd from above.
She’d stayed to watch the fight after all. It was all the fuel I needed. Pride rushed through me, and adrenaline filled me.
I could almost hear her sassy pep talk. You’ve worked too hard to start doubting yourself now. You’re here because you’re one of the best. Now start acting like it.
I shook my head. I was supposed to be here. It was time to focus. It was time to finish this shit.
The bell rang and I came out swinging my left, then kicking. Gator blocked my fist, but I hit him on the side hard with my foot. I kept at him, throwing light jabs with my right, and following with quick lefts. He backed up into a corner and I held him there, punching and kicking.
The crowd roared, and for the first time that night, I knew they were cheering for me. It fueled me and I went at him harder, making contact several more times before he finally dodged his way out of the corner and grabbed me in an attempt to pull me down.
I held on to him, and he twisted and lifted. He wanted me down on the mat so he could get to work with his real skills. I was willing and ready, but made him work for it. He grunted and yelled, pushing past his threshold of strength, and kept fucking going. But my feet were square and I refused to budge.
“Make him your bitch,” Jonah shouted from the corner.
And I did. Gator was pushing so hard against me that when I stopped resisting and twisted, he rolled over me, landing on his back. I jumped on top of him and started pounding his face. He tried to block me, but his face was red. Blood red.
He finally covered his face and managed to twist around, pulling up. We struggled on the canvas for several minutes. I couldn’t get him in a good hold, and he was too busy on the defense to make any headway. But then he slipped out, landing on top of me, and grabbed my left arm and bent it back.
Fuck. He pulled and I scrambled, pushing myself up with my legs, trying anything to get out of his hold.
“You’ve got this!” Jonah shouted.
He was right. He’d shown me how to get out of this, but it was going to fucking hurt like hell. I bit down hard on my mouth guard, pushed up against him with my legs, swung around, then came at him full force with my right, connecting so hard the pain was unbelievable. It shocked through my entire body and I growled, thinking I might actually bite all the way through my mouth guard from the agony. My head was dizzy, spinning from the shock of my throbbing fist.
Gator let go of my arm and I spun around, wrapped my legs around his body, took his arm, and ripped it back.
He tapped out.
I let go and fell back.