Brawler (9 page)

FOURTEEN

Jaz

Day forty-three

Where a professional fight brings legions of fans and onlookers – all seated in bleachers or seats surrounding the ring – amateur fights do not. There is nowhere to sit, no screaming fans, and no recognition for the winner or loser.

The fight begins, takes place, and ends with no one other than the trainers of the respective fighters – and the few friends who may have gathered – knowing the outcome.

I met her at the center of the ring, tapped gloves, and turned to the referee.

“I want a good clean fight,” he said. “No hitting on the break. No low punches or hits after the bell.”

I nodded. She nodded. He tapped his hand against the lower band on my shorts. “
This
is low.”

He did the same to her. “And
this
is low.”

“Understood?”

We both nodded.

“Go to your corners and wait for the bell.”

On my way to the corner, I noticed Ethan standing beside Ripp. On Ripp’s other side, Kelsey stood with his arms crossed. It appeared he was chewing Ripp out for something. Probably Ethan and me being in the ring together.

Fuck.

The old man hated me and I knew it. I stiffened.

The bell rang.

Shari “Thunder” Rose didn’t scare me. Forty wins and no losses meant nothing more than she got an earlier start on her career than I did. By no means did it mean she was better. We met on her side of the ring, and she did exactly what Ripp said she would.

Her fancy footwork, shuffling to the side as I approached, and leading with an onslaught of jabs each time I got close enough to touch her prevented me from doing much.

Frustrated, I continued to be the offensive fighter. Fighting someone who wasn’t willing to stand and fight was one of my pet peeves. Each time, as soon as I was close enough to touch her, she would throw a quick series of jabs and quickly step away.

Stand still, fight me, you scared bitch.

After chasing her around the ring for what I expected was half of the round, I grew even more angry.

Talking through a mouthpiece is difficult – if not impossible – but I loosened my grip on it and gave it my best.

“Stand still you scared bitch,” I hissed.

A response wasn’t necessary. Her eyes said it all. She didn’t like it. She stopped dancing around and threw a wild right hook that missed me by a foot.

“I’m gonna knock your ass out,” I taunted.

She shook her head and threw a straight left. I leaned left and the punch swung past the right side of my face. While she recovered from throwing the punch, her left side was unprotected. I threw a hard right hook into her ribcage.

She responded with an uppercut, catching me on the chin. And, for the first time in my boxing career, someone caused me to go blind from a punch.

I shoved my gloves into her chest and pushed her off. My sight returned almost instantly.

God damn, you hit hard.

Snot ran from my nose and tears rolled down my cheeks. As ridiculous as it seemed to admit it, it was exactly what I needed. I felt myself fill with rage.

Angry and seeking revenge, I stepped forward. She began feeling me out with shorts jabs, trying to lure me in. Ripp was right, if I got in close and stayed there for any length of time, she’d try and catch me with a hook as I broke away.

And if she did, I’d be in serious trouble.

But there was no way I could beat her if I wasn’t throwing punches.

I swung a wild right hook into her arms, attempting to clear them from blocking my target. I wanted a straight shot at her face.

She threw a left hook into my ribs, and I didn’t even see it coming. I countered with an uppercut that fell short.

As follow-ups, we both swung left hooks at the same time, hers a narrow miss, and mine caught her on the shoulder, knocking her off-balance. I followed with a right hook to her ribs.

The shock expressed in her eyes was enough for me to know she didn’t like what she was getting, but I wasn’t in the ring to make her happy. A hard left hook into the center of her stomach made her eyes bulge, and the sound of the bell prevented me from going any further.  

“Bitch!” I grunted as I turned away.

I stumbled to the corner and leaned down. Ripp pulled my mouthpiece and gave me a shot of water. “What the fuck are you doing? Trading punches?” he asked. “You can’t do that with her. She’ll knock your ass out.”

I shook my head. “She hits hard as fuck.”

“And what were you doing? Talking shit?”

“Uh huh. She wouldn’t fight.”

Kelsey stepped around Ripp and glared at me. “You a boxer, or a brawler?”

I didn’t respond.

“I asked you a question, Spaz. Which is it?”

“A little of both, Sir.”

He pushed Ripp to the side and looked right at me. Wearing striped sweats and a white tee shirt, he looked angry, tired, and surprisingly tough for his age. “Looks to me like you’re a brawler. Going toe-to-toe with a girl like her will get you hurt. Now get that right heel off the fuckin’ deck, you flat-footed little shit, and maybe you’ll have enough power to hurt her.”

“Forget you even know this bald headed prick for right now. Watch my right foot and my hips.” He threw a demonstration punch, twisting his hip in an exaggerated fashion as he did. “As your arm extends, twist on the ball of your god damned foot like your putting out a cigarette.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

“You’ve got power, Spaz. Now go knock her arrogant ass out, I’m tired of watching you two dance.” He slapped his hand against Ripp’s shoulder. “Put in her mouthpiece in, Dummy.”

Ripp shook his head and put in my mouthpiece.

And the bell rang.

FIFTEEN

Jaz

Day forty-three.

I rushed to the center of the ring, and she met me with a hard right cross, missing my head by the thickness of a hair.

Oh, now you wanna fight, huh?

I threw a flurry of punches in response, showing her just how quick – and how powerful – I could be.

She stumbled back a step.

I didn’t want to beat her, I
needed
to. For me to quickly advance in the sport, I needed to knock her out and get noticed.

I wanted the label, like Ripp said.

Bad ass.

I took one step toward her and swung an uppercut. The punch blew past her, and in anticipation of her countering with her signature left hook, I threw a right in hope of knocking it astray.

Her left didn’t come, and my right caught her hard on the side of the face, causing her to stumble again.

My vision narrowed. All that mattered was that I stay on the offensive, continually bringing the fight to her. If I did, she could only react. An offensive attack on her part, at least during my attack, would be all but impossible.

The ring became small, and only what was right in front of me was all that was in my view. All of the background noise became dull and distant. My breathing and my heartbeat were the only sounds I could hear, and they were almost deafening.

She threw a right cross, missing me completely. Her left jab fell short.

I looked her in the eyes.

She seemed distant. Confused. Uncertain.

You’re hurt, huh?

Well, hold still, I’ve got something for you.

I crowded her, pummeling her with everything I had. She provided nothing in response, unless stumbling into the ropes was her defense. While I continued to pound her mid-section and face with repeated rights and lefts, the referee stepped in.

He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Are you alright?”

She nodded.

Not for long.

I cocked my right hand. The referee released her and stepped away.

I shuffled my left foot forward, moved my right back slightly, and twisted my right shoulder back. Pivoting on the ball of my right foot just like the old man said, I lifted my heel and threw the punch hard, bringing the power of my chest first and pivoting my hips right behind it.

The punch hit her square in the jaw.

She flew into the ropes, sprung forward, and fell to the mat face-first.

I glared down at her.

If you know what’s good for you, you won’t even try to get up.

The referee rushed between us, turned her over, and looked down.

She didn’t move.

He waved his arms over her.

The fight was over.

Fuck yes.

I’d beaten the unbeatable by a knockout.

With my hands held high over my head, and feeling like I was floating well above the clouds, I rushed to the corner.

Ripp was dancing some weird victory dance, and Ethan was waving his hands in the air cheering. I spit out my mouthpiece. “I did it. I knocked her out. I’m on my way to being a bad ass.”

I had never felt so much pride in my life.

Ripp stopped dancing. “God damn, you dropped that girl like a bad habit.”

I pressed my forearms into the sides of my head and pushed my headgear up. “Sure did.”

“Great fight, Jaz,” Ethan said.

“Thanks.”

My eyes darted around the edge of the ring, looking for Kelsey. Thirty feet away, walking toward the offices, the back of his white shirt and his gray hair were unmistakable.

I didn’t care if he liked me or not, I was at least going to force him to remember me. “Kelsey!” I shouted.

He stopped and turned around.

“Thanks,” I screamed.

Without acknowledging what I said, he turned around, raised his right hand high in the air, and flipped me the bird.

I love you, too.

SIXTEEN

Jaz

Day fifty.

Ethan was fighting, and he assured me he was fighting to win this time. Ripp and I were watching it together, and it seemed he had his doubts in Ethan’s ability to win.

“This kid Ethan’s fighting is a beast,” Ripp said. “He should have gone pro two years ago.”

“Why hasn’t he?” I asked.

“I think he likes hurting people.”

Ethan stood in the center of the ring, taking instructions from the referee. I was excited to see him fight, and if his prediction was correct, I knew it might cause Ripp to give him a little credit. He predicted a knockout, and we placed a bet on it. If he lost, we weren’t having sex for a week. If he won, he got to have sex, on my terms. If he knocked him out, he got the sex of his choosing. Hoping he wasn’t mistaken about the knockout, I stood excitedly at the edge of the ring.

Ripp folded his arms in front of his chest and sighed. “I’d like to slap the shit out of Ethan’s trainer. He’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Fuckin’ Brockman? Because he is,” he said. “He’s picked some fights for Ethan that he shouldn’t have. Ethan’s got a fucked up record now.”

I wanted to tell him the truth, but I was sworn to secrecy. “Well, maybe he can redeem himself tonight. We’ve been sparring in my living room.”

He shot me a crazy look. “You
what
?”

I grinned. “Sparring. Ethan and me. Maybe he’s picked up on a few of my tips.”

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’, right?”

I shook my head.

The bell rang. “Good luck, Babe,” I shouted.

Ripp glared. “Babe?”

I shrugged.

“You two are fuckin’?”

“Shh, the fight started.”

Ripp grumbled something and turned to face the ring.

Ethan’s opponent was built just like him. Tall, with long arms and covered in muscle, he looked like a lean version of Ripp. His head was shaved, he was covered in homemade tattoos, and he had a tuft of hair on his chin. 

He and Ethan clenched in the center of the ring, and Ethan shoved him off, swinging an uppercut as they parted. The punch barely missed. Seeing Ethan fight was a huge turn-on, and even if he lost, there was no doubt I’d be so horny at the end of the fight that I wouldn’t be able to make it until morning without having Ethan fuck me.

“God damn,” Ripp said, still focused on the fight. “If that would have connected…”

His opponent came at him with a barrage of punches, connecting many of them to Ethan’s mid-section. A right cross from Ethan landed on his opponent’s eye, sending him stumbling.

“
This
is a fucking fight,” Ripp announced excitedly.

Yeah, it sure is. My pussy’s loving it.

“It looks like it.”

With every muscle in his body taught, Ethan continued to swing power punches at his opponent, connecting half of what he was throwing.

“Ethan’s a slugger. He’s fast and unpredictable. If he could just focus,” Ripp said. “He’d be a good fighter.”

“You think he’s a bad fighter?”

“He ain’t bad, he just needs some direction.”

Ripp no more than spoke, and Ethan connected a hard right cross in the face of his opponent, knocking him back several feet.

“Holy shit, he’s got him on his fuckin’ heels,” Ripp shouted as the man stumbled to regain his footing.

Ethan advanced toward him, and as soon as he was within arm’s reach, swung an uppercut directly into his chin. The powerful punch sent his head back like it was on a swivel.

The fighter’s legs gave out and he fell down to the mat, hard.

“Holy shit. He ain’t gettin’ up from that,” Ripp said.

The referee waived his hands over the unconscious fighter, signaling the end of the fight. The entire thing lasted no more than a minute and a half.

I was soaked.

“Great fight, Babe!” I shouted.

“Back to the Babe thing,” Ripp said. “What the fuck’s going on there? You two dating?”

I shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t think we’re dating. We’re just hanging out. And fucking,” I said with a laugh.

Ripp raised his hand between us. “I’ve heard enough.”

“No fuckin’ on fight nights,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the ring.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Sex’ll make ya weak. No fight night fuckin’.”

“It loosens me up.”

“No. Fight. Night. Fuckin’.”

“Fine.”

Ethan went to his corner, and talked to his trainer, waiting for the other fighter to be able to stand up. So far, he had yet to get up on his feet.

“So, Ethan’s trainer is a dumb ass, huh?”

“Sure is,” Ripp responded.

“Why don’t you train him?” I asked.

“Haven’t got time.” Ripp said. “But if he keeps fightin’ like this, I might make time.”

Ethan commended the challenger and walked to our side of the ring.

“Great punch,” Ripp said.

“Thanks.”

“Looked good. Keep that shit up, and you just might make a champion.”

“Appreciate it.”

Ethan locked eyes with me. “So…”

“So…what?”

His excitement was apparent. I wasn’t sure if it was about winning the fight or earning the right to fuck me any way he wanted. “You ready to go?” he asked.

“Something going on I need to know about?” Ripp asked.

“We made a bet,” I said.

Ripp cocked an eyebrow. “What was it? The bet?”

Ethan shook his head.

“It’s okay, he knows,” I said.

Ethan stared in apparent disbelief. “Oh.”

I turned toward Ripp. “Ethan said he was going to knock the guy out. I didn’t believe him. So we bet. Sex any way he wants it if he knocked him out. And, he knocked him out. So…” I shrugged. “I guess anything goes.”

Ripp stared at me for a moment, shifted his eyes to Ethan, and then back to me. “You serious?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

He looked at Ethan. “Step on her head. It’s the best shit ever.”

What the fuck?

Ethan chuckled. “What?”

“Head steppin’,” Ripp said straight faced. He glanced in my direction. “Plug your ears, Jaz.”

I scrunched my nose. “Seriously?”

He nodded.

I covered my ears with my hands, but not so much I couldn’t hear. I focused on the two boxers sparring in the far ring and listened in secrecy.

While I watched the two men fight, Ripp began to explain. “Bend her over, like over the couch or somethin’ low. Get behind her and, you know, start goin’ at it. Then, lift up your right foot, stretch it up there, and step down on her head. Right at the base of where the head’s attached to the neck, and just mash her head into bed or the couch or whatever while your cock’s inside of her. Havin’ your leg all stretched out like that’ll get you in there real deep. And somethin’ about havin’ their head stepped on really turns ‘em on. Then, while you’re stompin’ her head, just fuck the hell out of her. You’ll both love it.”

Holy shit, that sounds hot as hell.

“No shit?” Ethan asked.

“If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’. Best sex ever. My Ol’ Lady loves it. I give her that shit about once a week. Hell, even Dekk fucks his Ol’ Lady like that?”

“No shit?”

“Motherfucker, I already told you once. I ain’t lyin’. Try it.”             

I was already soaking wet from watching Ethan fight. Now, thinking about having Ethan fuck me while he stepped on my head?

I. Was. Soaked.

I stared off in the distance, acting none the wiser while my pussy continued to remind me of what was to come.

“So you ready to go?” Ethan asked.

I continued to stare, my ears covered tightly with my hands.

“Jaz! You ready to go?” Ethan shouted.

I uncovered my ears and turned around. “Huh?”

“You ready?”

I was so excited to get home and try it I could barely contain myself. Hell, I was ready for him to stomp on my head right then and there, but I knew I needed to hide my excitement. “Yeah,” I said in an apathetic tone. “Sure am.”

Ethan jumped from the ring. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Have fun,” Ripp said over his shoulder with a laugh.

“He’s going to step on my head and shove me full of cock,” I blurted. “How could that
not
be fun?”

Ripp’s eyes bulged. “You listened?”

Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?

“Sorry,” I said. “It’s just part of being a girl. We don’t like secrets.”

Ripp shrugged and laughed. “Have fun. I gotta get. I’ve got my own business to take care of.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Hopefully not with a sore neck,” he said.

“Can’t make any promises,” I said, motioning toward Ethan’s shoes. “He’s got huge feet.”

“You know what they say about guys with huge feet,” Ripp said with a laugh.

“I do,” I said, craning my neck to the side as if it were sore. “And it’s true.”