Page 78 of If You Fight

As I expected, he came at me like a fucking wild animal, aiming for my nose and hoping for a quick show of blood for the crowd. I twisted out of his way and caught the back of his head with my elbow as he flew past me, and he grunted in pain as I spun around to face him when he came at me again.

“Wanna play games, little bitch?” he said, sneering at me. “Fight me like a fucking man!”

I laughed in his face. I didn’t know what kind of fighting he’d ever done, but standing in one place while someone whales on you wasn’t fighting. It was losing.

“You’re gonna laugh at me?”

From the crowd, some guy yelled, “Stop fucking talking and fight! You’re like fucking hens out there!”

Justin turned to throw a look toward where the sound came from, and I jumped at the chance to show him how fighting was supposed to be done. My arm came around in a right hook, and my fist connected hard with his face. I felt my knuckles slam against his cheekbone before they skated along his head, clipping his ear. He turned in shock to come at me, but he was too slow. By the time he raised his hand, my forearm was meeting his face. It slammed into his nose, breaking it and sending blood pouring out of his nostrils.

He staggered back while his hands filled with blood, but I didn’t let up. I saw my chance to win, and I took it.

The next hit sent him to the ground, and as the crowd screamed its desire for me to kick his ass, I pounced on him, taking advantage of his weakness. Like a man on a mission, I beat him like I had to. My fists pounded his face and body over and over. The whole time he tried to defend himself, but it was no use.

I knew what I had to do, and I did it.

The sound of the crowd yelling all around me slowly faded away until all I heard was the noise my fists made every time they met his body. A deafening sound of pain that repeated again and again.

Every thought disappeared from my brain, except for one. I had to defeat him. I had to win to get the money to take Serena away from the world we were trapped in. To protect her. I couldn’t lose and let her down.

I had to win. No matter what it took.

He struggled to guess where I’d attack next, so his hands never fully protected him. When he thought I’d go for his shoulder, I zeroed in on his face, by now bloody and busted so he was almost unrecognizable. When he believed I’d go for his face again, I focused on his chest, pounding my fists into his body over and over.

I was like a savage animal fighting for its life, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care that at one point I would have eased up at least a little so the guy I was fighting would have at least a tiny chance. I didn’t care when he began begging me to stop.

I didn’t care because I couldn’t. I cared about two souls in this world, Serena and our child, and I couldn’t afford to care about Justin.

The familiar two finger signal finally came after God only knew how long I beat on him, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

My fists kept slamming into his face, his shoulder, his chest. Even though I saw those two fingers, my brain didn’t get the message, so like the machine I was, I kept fighting.

“He gives up!” a voice behind me shouted as hands pulled at my shoulders to get me off him.

The words came out frantically, like the person saying them saw something that terrified them. I fought against their hold on me, but then another person joined in and finally pulled me off Justin. They threw me backwards, and I fell onto the ground in a confused heap of rage that suddenly had no place to go.

“Let me at him!” I screamed as I scrambled to my feet.

Floyd jumped in front of me and held my shoulders so I couldn’t move. He wore an expression of pure terror, but he didn’t have to worry. I’d won. I’d gotten us the win.

“Ryder, stop! Stop! It’s over!”

I looked around him to see Nate hovering over Justin, who lay in crumpled heap of his own blood and broken bones. My mind raced as it tried to find its way back to normal, even as my body craved more fighting.

Nate yelled something and a few men began pushing the crowd toward the doors. No announcement that I’d won or anything. Just a fight and then nothing.

“Floyd, get over here!” Nate said in a panic, and Floyd rushed over to where he sat crouched over Justin.

I watched as the two of them shook him by the shoulders and then stared at one another like they didn’t know what to do. One of Nate’s guys made a noise that sounded like he was in pain and then looked over at me in horror.

Was Justin knocked out? Had the people in Keyser never seen anyone knocked out before?

Slowly, I staggered over to where Floyd stood and said, “I guess these guys aren’t used to real fights. He’s out cold.”

Nate turned his head and looked up at me with a sickening expression but said nothing. Floyd shook his head wildly and tried to speak but nothing came out.

Finally, I grabbed him by the shoulders. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We won. We won, Floyd.”

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