Page 87 of Last Round

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I will make sure she has it. Better?”

“No, but it’s something.” I glance at the clock. I’m already late. “I’m going to bring you over there and pick you up. Never leave her side.” I can see her objection forming before her mouth opens. “Look, I’m being overly cautious. I get it. And as long as he’s here with me, I know he’s not with you. Still, I’d feel better if I knew you weren’t alone. Not even for a second. If you want me to pretend that fucker didn’t lay a finger on you, not tell your brother, then I need you to do this for me.”

“Okay,” she sighs. “If this is what you need, I’ll do it.”

Arms crossed, I watch as Dominic tires Tony out. I’m doing my job. Calling out pointers that the cocky bastard ignores. But I instructed Rusty that I wanted Dom to shut him down.

Tony is all flash, little substance. He doesn’t work his opponents over, instead comes out of the gates swinging, giving it his all in the first round. It’s gotten the asshole this far, so I’m not exactly talking down on him for it. I was similar back in the day. But the difference between me and the piece of shit in front of me is I adjusted tactics when necessary. He doesn’t.

Tony throws everything he has, expending all his energy trying to land the perfect blow. We’ve focused a good chunk of our training on grappling since that’s his weakness. But it’s like he hasn’t learned a damn thing.

Dom patiently blocks all of Tony’s strikes. His guard is up like a fucking brick wall. There is no getting past it. When Tony is gassed out, Dominic will still have a full tank. And while Tony’s strongest on his feet, throwing heavy punches, Dom is unstoppable on the ground.

Tony wobbles slightly after he jabs and misses Dominic. Rusty looks at me over the ring. I nod, signaling that it’s time.

Rusty whistles. “Unleash the demon.”

Dominic smiles through his guard. Then he drops all his weight, wraps his arms around Tony’s leg, locks them behind his knees, presses his head into his sternum, and knocks him flat on the mat. Asshat is stunned, slow to respond, which is his downfall. Dom barely has to work to get him into a rear-naked-choke. And instead of even trying to maneuver out of it, Tony taps out like the little bitch he is. His face is red, his nostrils flared when he finally pushes to his feet.

“What the fuck was that?” He shoves at Dominic.

“Double-knee-takedown,” Dominic beams. “Even a fucking nube knows that. What the fuck are they teaching you assholes out east? How to gel your hair and fist-pump?”

“We were working on my foot game, not ground. I wasn’t ready. You were lucky. If I’d known we were doing both, I would have countered that shit in a heartbeat.”

“If you want standing only, become a boxer,” I jump in. “This was a simulated fight. Ring rules, anything goes. He went after your weakness and won.”

“Well,” Tony quips. “Maybe if I had a coach who could put his personal shit aside for two seconds and—I don’t know—coachme, I wouldn’t have lost.”

“You mean when I stood here and told you repeatedly to change it up. Stop throwing the same three punches, give him something to work for, that wasn’t coaching enough for you? If Dominic learned your blind spots this well after only a few weeks, imagine what your opponent knows. I picked Dom, because he closely matches what you’re about to face. And, well, if he’s a precursor to your big event, you’re fucked.” Tony glares at me. “Get the fuck out of my gym. Maybe you’ll be ready to listen tomorrow. It’s what you’re fucking paying me for.”

“It’s not my fault, coach,” he calls out after me.

“What’s not?” I make the mistake of turning around and asking him.

The sneer he gives me could curdle dairy. “That your girl still wants my cock.”

Dominic takes a step back as he looks between us, while the rest of the guys stop what they’re doing to tune into the conversation. These fuckers love drama as much as a bunch of bored housewives. Tony is about to air some real juicy shit, and like the assholes they are, they’re ready to suck it from his nuts.

How much I love Molly is the only thing keeping me from marching over and punching him so hard that he shits his teeth for a week and has to drink from a straw for the rest of his life.

“Check this.” Tony nudges Dominic’s chest with the back of his hand. “Here I was on the way to the showers the other day and his girl stops me, crying about how much she misses me. Begging me to take her back.”

“You used to date Molly?” Dom looks at me, confused, and I shrug. He’s a good guy, but I’m not interested in airing my dirty laundry.

“Oh yeah, Molls and I go way back… if you know what I mean.”

I take note of the few guys who are finding this amusing. Those fuckers are done here along with this asshole.

“But don’t worry, coach, I told her we were through. That I don’t need K.O.’s sloppy seconds.” His eyes go dark. “But when she started with the waterworks, I decided to throw her a bone. Especially when she dropped to her knees and begged to suck my cock. I mean, you’ve seen her. Plus, she’s got a mouth like a Hoover. Who can say no to that?”

I’m across the gym in a second. I fist the collar of his shirt. His smile doesn’t falter.

“Do it,” he challenges. I glance around, noticing a couple phones directed our way.

I lean in and growl in his ear so that only he can hear me. “Quit,” I order him. “Get the fuck out of my gym, call your pervy-ass manager and cancel this contract. Or she will go to every media source that will listen and tell them how you stalked her and forced yourself on her.”

“She can’t.” He smiles. “One word and my lawyers will bury her in legal fees.”

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