I smirk as the commentator goes on and on, putting a bit more fear into the three women I’ll be fighting tonight. There will be a few rounds with some others who another coach puts up as a senior to help, and a few might even fight one another. We aren’t here to destroy but to assess a fighter. Those who fight either have a coach already and the coach is trying to get them in the game, or they have no one and are looking to entice a coach to pick them up.
“Coming in at five feet, four inches, the lightweight senior is Menace!”
The crowd roars to life, and I force myself not to smile. It’s harder than you think because they’re chanting my name. Hundreds of people are screaming at me. Mack’s in the front, and two of his protection detail are on either side of me, trying to push back the fans as we make our way to the ring.
When we started, Summer said we needed to have cool nicknames. Somehow, I got stuck with Menace, but it works when she and I do duos, as we come out as Dennis and Menace. When Summer fights alone, she changes it to Dennis the Destroyer, or DD for short. It works since that’s her bra size. Yeah, we find it funny too.
My opponent is already up, and I assess her as we get close. She’s bouncing around like she’s ready, but I can see that her technique isn’t perfect. Her warm-up is more for show than actual limbering.
Mack gets to the ring first and then holds the ropes open for me to come in next. I stretch my neck and hear the pop but make no effort to show off. I make sure to warm up before I get in the ring so my skills can’t be seen. I prefer to keep it a surprise. It’s rare for someone trying out to have seen me fight before. Sure, a coach could warn them, but usually the coaches have no clue about who’s going to fight till about five minutes before tryout night. No real way to prep other than a few small words.
She falters a bit when she sees I’m not jumping around like a monkey in a cage and looks at her coach, who’s in the ring’s corner. I smirk. This one won’t last.
I take another beat before I turn my back on her and head to my own corner. Mack’s only there to give me my mouth guard, and then he hops down and enters the crowd. His protection detail stays with me, but I’ve fought enough to not need a coach or anyone in my corner. Once I start, I don’t really listen to anyone telling me what to do. It’s pretty straightforward—hit and block a hit. Simple.
As the bell dings to start the fight, my attention is pulled at the last second when I spot Domino in the crowd. He’s close but not front row. His arms are folded, and he looks pissed. I see a group of his guys with him, some talking, but his eyes are locked on me, no emotion beyond pissed-off male coming off him in waves.
And it’s making me wet.
Which is a big mistake, since I’m not focused and miss the hit to the back of the head that has me doubling over and falling down. The ref doesn’t stop us, since this is full-on MMA underground shit, so when the girl jumps on my back, I roll. She tries to pin me by locking her legs around me, but this isn’t myfirst rodeo. Head still throbbing from her little hello kiss, I throw it back and smash it into her nose. She jolts from the impact, and her legs give enough that I can flip in her hold and start whaling on her. Less than twenty seconds later, the ref is calling it.
I get up, shake out my head, which is still ringing, and wobble a little on my feet. My vision blurs, but I walk it off as I see two people, her coach and the ref, dragging the woman off the mat.
Fuck. I didn’t mean to go so hard on her, but I just flipped. She came in when I wasn’t looking, and that shit doesn’t work for me. Granted, she got me down. Never had someone get me down on the mat that fast since my first year on the circuit.
And that’s when I look back at Domino and glare. Fucker is making me distracted. I’ve never cared who was in the crowd before. Never noticed, actually. But he’s here, and fuck, my pride is shot a bit that I looked like a fucking toddler up here for a second.
I don’t get out of the ring. I want another round. I want to prove myself somehow.
I nod to the announcer, and he doesn’t balk at me calling the shots. Usually I get a break, let another senior in, but not now, not tonight. With a nod behind him, he brings out the next contestant, making the announcement as I pace. While he goes on and on about her stats, I look back at Domino and hold his stare. I’m not backing down. Sure, I probably have a concussion, but I’ve dealt with worse.
I’m amped up. The dizziness is gone now that I’ve walked it out a bit, but my anger is just growing. At Domino. At myself. At the stalker. It’s been a long time since I used anyemotion in these fights. That’s what makes me a menace: I’m unpredictable, dangerous, a threat. I’ll cause a person harm, but you don’t know how. I train hard and work on different techniques to not only better myself but to never be predictable. I use that in fights, though usually only when I’m in it for a cash prize, not the standard rate like tonight. But things have changed. Tonight is not like other nights. I can’t pretend it is.
I’m both turned on by a man and angry at him for being here all in one. If that’s normal for fight night, then I don’t know what is.
Movement behind Domino pulls my attention for a second. I know that person too. I’ve seen him before, but not for over eight months, maybe more. It’s not uncommon for him to show, just funny that out of all the nights, he picked this one. I doubt he came for me, though. I wasn’t even on the roster tonight, just a last-minute change.
Seeing my sponsor, my investor, the guy who I fight under, who Mack trains us to represent, has me turning back to the ring. If the boss is here, then I need to focus more. I’m not about to give him a reason to pull his bid on me. Could I get another sponsor? Sure. I’m good—really good. Others have tried to poach me a few times, but I always turned them down. I like my guy. He’s gone more times than not, living in Boston, but he gives Mack what’s needed for me to train, and even to heal if I need it. He doesn’t push me to fight, but he takes a high cut when I do. He took a chance on me the first time I fought, and I’ve got no reason to change. I’m kind of brand loyal. Why fuck with a good thing?
As the bell rings for the next fight, I focus. And I only imagine it’s Domino that I’m hitting once, maybe twice,before I knock this one out and ask for another. I’m just getting warm, and I’m not ready to face his anger.
And if he’s smart, Domino should hope I let off a bit more steam before we talk again. He might not like what I said last time, but I can guarantee he’ll hate it when I knock his ass out if he tries to pull that shit again with me tonight.
Chapter 19—Domino
My hands clench again as I watch Viv take another hit to the face. She’s tiring, and her lack of blocking is showing. This new fighter is energized and quick to see her faults. I fucking hate it. And yet I’ve never been so hard in my life.
For the first time, I war internally.
How can I possibly get off on watching her kick ass and yet want to spank her ass for every hit she lets through? I’m angry that she’s doing this and proud that she didn’t give a fuck about what I wanted, as she knows her own strength. I’ve met some women in my life who can handle their own. The Crazy Eights come to mind, a group of females who do whatever the fuck they want to get results. But—and let’s make this clear: I’ve never actually seen women fight before more than the vamp catfights with hair pulling and shit—Viv is water. Fluid in motion with every jab and strike. She’s a fucking machine. But this is her fourth fight, and I don’t know many who can go this far, or even further.
“Damn, how much more can she take?” Lucky says beside me, and I grunt in agreement.
“Another two rounds if she has her way.”
I turn to the newcomer who decided to just butt into our conversation. I’m already hot and have no problem letting off some energy, either fucking or hitting, and Viv doesn’t look like she’s up for the first one right now.
But the face that greets me, even with the giant-ass grin, has me pausing. I never thought I’d see this fucker again, much less here.
