Page 81 of Uppercut Princess
Aww, Nevaeh. Back when my problems were easy.
I expect Evan to retreat like we’ve been doing, but he doesn’t this time. He stays inside, using me as his personal punching bag. I block and retaliate, waiting for him to make a mistake. He gets overconfident because of the amount of strikes he’s been able to get in that he leaves his head unprotected. I elbow him across the nose and blood spurts from it. I get in another blow to his forehead, cracking the skin open before he finally wises up and steps back.
Blood drips down his face and into his eyes. He swipes furiously at it, but I use his lack of vision to my advantage. I step forward, blasting him several times in the nose, and then once to the throat, making him choke.
“Fucking bitch!” he roars as soon as he gets his breath back.
He moves in blindly. His arms moving furiously. I sweep his leg, tripping him, but grab onto his arm, so I can use his leverage to spin me to face him so I can continue to hit him. I drop hammer fists onto his face until he’s able to wrangle his arm free and cover up.
Everything goes in underground fighting. And I mean, everything.
When I retreat, I kick his balls, then stomp on his hip.
His hands move to cover his family jewels, and I pounce on him. I use the sharp point of my elbow to do the damage. My focus moves to a pinpoint. I’m on top of him, his arms trapped. As long as I can keep this spot, I’m fine. I don’t let up. I don’t let him squirm his way out of this. He tries to buck, but I return to what I was doing. Elbow after elbow rains down on him. I split the cut he already had on his forehead wide open. Blood splatters everywhere. I know it’s all over me. It’s all over his face. It’s dripping to the ground.
I go and go and go. I don’t let up. I don’t stop. I need this. I let my hate for Big Daddy fill me up and fuel my strength. I yell through clenched teeth, like a caged animal, not caring about anyone else but my own safety.
I don’t stop for a long time until strong arms grip me. It’s then I realize that Evan is limp. As I’m being pulled away, the bloody mess I made comes into focus. Evan isn’t dead. He’s just knocked out cold. The cut on his head is nasty. His short hair is practically coated in red.
My body starts to shake. I blink, letting my surroundings come into focus little by little.
Roza Fonz’s crew looks shocked beyond anything. They’re gaping at an unmoving Evan.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” a voice says next to my ear. It takes me too long to figure out it’s Johnny who has me. He brings me back to our side of the circle as Big Daddy K stands, walking toward the center.
Roza looks pissed. She sneers at her guy and throws her cigar to the ground, stomping it out with her feet. When she walks past Evan, she spits on him.
Johnny leans over to say something to me, but I can’t even focus. I can’t believe she disrespected her own fighter like that.
She turns an angry glare to Big Daddy K. “What are you playing at, old man? Who is that girl?”
“We had a deal,” he says. But he doesn’t give her a chance to respond.
Everything melts into slow motion. His hand move first. It sneaks to his hip, and then he holds his hand out. His body blocks my view, but I don’t have to see the gun to know it’s there. The gunshot that sounds shortly after tells me everything I need to know. As does Roza falling to the ground, a bullet hole between her eyes.
I exhale, and all hell breaks loose as a trail of blood leaks from the single bullet wound in Roza’s head, running through the parts in her braids like water trickling through a stream.
29
Gunshots ring out. I’m shoved to the ground from behind. The gravel eats at my palms, digging in deep. Unlike before, time doesn’t slow like when the first shot rang out. It speeds up, like I’m looking at everything through fast forward. Guards rush to Roza while firing randomly in the air. Grunts of pain fill the all but deserted parking lot, but then dissipate.
“Come on,” a voice says in my ear while I’m getting tugged away.
I turn to find Magnum pulling me back. The small stones are embedding into the skin of my stomach as I’m being dragged, my tank top inching upward, leaving my skin exposed. I look past him, searching the area for Brawler and Oscar, who I knew were just here seconds before the fight started, but I don’t see them anymore. Bodies lie on the ground, and I cry out, hoping it’s not them.
He drags me right into a hedge that lines the parking lot and then pulls me upright. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
He shakes me, and all I can see is the chaos of the shootout still in full swing. My heart gets stuck in my throat. Brawler’s brother and sister died in a shootout. He must be so scared. I shrug Magnum off and start for the parking lot again, but he grabs me from behind and lifts.
“Let me fucking go! Magnum!”
He runs, holding me in his arms. The branches of the wild bushes scrape at my body. The sounds of cars starting and peeling out of the parking area reverberate through me. I’m running through the images in my head, wondering if I can remember seeing Oscar or Brawler. Hell, even Johnny. He was right there. Right fucking there.
Now, where are they?
Magnum pulls me out onto a side street, and we crouch next to a dilapidated garage. I push him. “You knew that was going to happen. What the fuck?”
He staggers back but catches himself. Ignoring me, he looks around the side of the building.
