Page 35 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter
Already, Louis has a cut under his eye.
I snap my own gloves on, ready for my fight.
“Get ready,” my dad says.
I’m already prepping cotton swabs, dunking towels in ice, and yelling at Ricky to get out more jelly.
Every time Louis gets hit, I feel it in my gut.
I have to resist the urge to climb into the ring and start hitting Ruiz back.
“Come on!” I yell. “Make him earn it!”
Finally, the bell rings.
Louis comes over, breathing hard through his nose. Blood trickles down his cheek, casting a faint red line through his beard.
Dad gets him down on the stool and stands between him and everything else as I get to work.
“All right. Not bad,” Dad says over the crowd, slapping Louis on the head. “You survived a round with a top-five fighter, kid. Now, let’s see about inflicting some damage.”
Louis doesn’t take his eyes off my father. Good, that’s where I need him right now. Dad’s running him through strategy while I mend this cut—it’s not bad, so far. I press the chilled endswell over the cut once I’ve got it cleaned up to reduce the swelling.
“Feel him out,” my dad says, speaking with a rhythm like he’s throwing combos. “He’s confident. Too confident. He thinks this’ll be easy. Let him work himself down. I want you to focus on counters. He’s got more reach than you, so stay back on your feet or else he’ll rack up points with those jabs.”
The bell rings.
“Go. Go!”
Louis explodes off the stool.
This time, Ruiz rushes him.
This time, they go blow for blow.
Louis doesn’t back up an inch, dodging a few jabs before delivering a lightning-fast combo from gut to uppercut. The arena erupts, groaning like they felt that.
Our corner cheers like we’ve already won. Even Ricky slaps me on the back, a big smile on his face. “That’s it! Let him know!”
Moving forward, Ruiz fights with more caution. Even the crowd feels tenser—now they know that Louis is here to fight.
Round after round, they work for their openings. Occasionally, they come together and hold their ground, much to the crowd’s delight. Every time, I want to look away. Louis battles it out like a soldier, taking his blows and giving them right back.
But Ruiz clearly has the edge.
Every time Louis comes back to our corner, the cut under his eye is worse. It’s swelling badly, despite my treatments, and his eye is starting to close. Not to mention all the shots he’s taking to the body.
Still, his breathing is controlled. All those two-a-days have paid off.
We’re entering the sixth round.
“You are putting on a hell of a show!”
My dad is in it. It’s like the old days. His blood is flowing like jet fuel.
“Look at him. Look at him!” He grabs Louis by the head, forcing him to stare at Ruiz. The man isn’t as bloodied as Louis, but he’s gasping for air. “He’s tired. Maybe more tired than you are. He didn’t think he’d have to work for it! You hear me, son? I told you all those bad days would be worth it!”
Louis laughs through the pain.
