“Against you?” He looked me up and down, sizing me up.
“Only if you promise to take it easy on me. I’m a little rusty. The old suit and tie act prevents me from making fights like I used to,” I lied.
Waltz shrugged. “I can’t make any promises.”
Instead of a verbal response, I tilted my head, cracking my neck one way and then the other. That adrenaline rush I always felt before fighting started to occur, only it was magnified by my growing bloodthirst. I wouldn’t be able to take Stephens out the way I wanted because I was leaving him to Kay and the legal system to handle, but these two? They were wall mine.
I pivoted on my heels and went over to where the fighting cage had been set up. I removed my sneakers before stepping inside, leaving me dressed in only a pair of fighting shorts. In my peripheral I saw the other men in the room, including Connor, encircle the cage to get a good view of what was about to ensue. I looked at my opponent as he stepped into the ring. He stood at about five-foot-nine inches, but he was broad, stocky. He worked out. I knew the gym he held a membership at as well as his workout schedule. Brutus had gotten all of the details. This punk fancied himself a tough guy, and he liked exercising his power over so-called thugs out on the street. While there was never any evidence of him raping women like his friend, Stephens, he used his badge to bully people in other ways. Little did he know as soon as he stepped in the ring all of that was about to be stripped from him.
I didn’t give him any time. As soon as he entered the ring, I clocked him with a right jab, just to stun him.
“Shit!” he growled. “That was a fucking sucker punch!” he yelled and swung wildly, missing my face by almost a foot.
Easily dodging his second fist, I stepped back and grinned in his direction, shuffling on my toes. “We’re just getting warmed up. Don’t bitch out now,” I challenged, knowing it would get under his skin to be called a bitch.
“Fuck you!” He charged me, attempting to grab me by the waist for a takedown.
Fucking slacker. I easily spun out of the way and landed an elbow to the back of his head, sending him staggering into the chain linked fence. I could hear cheers from the crowd around us, as well a yell from his buddy, Ramirez. Usually the sound of the crowd would spur me on, but I didn’t need it that night. All I needed was the memory of Kay’s face and the sound of her voice as she recounted what these officers did to her. Not only Stephens but these two fuckers who shut down any investigation into their friend, but then spent nearly a year stalking and harassing her.
“Ahh!” Waltz bellowed.
I hadn’t even realized I’d hit him again. Next thing I knew I was landing another blow to Waltz’s face and then to his left ribs.
“You son of a bitch!” he yelled.
“More fighting less talking!” I growled back. Words weren’t needed in that moment. A swift ass kicking was, before I completed this fight and went to take on his buddy Ramirez effectively ending both of their careers.
“Ugh!” I grunted when one of his elbows landed in my ribs. The blow stung but it only served to piss me off more. I began wailing on him, blow after blow until he was knocked unconscious. Seeing him on the floor, eyes closed, snapped me back to reality and I stepped back, remembering that my aim wasn’t to kill the bastard, even though everything in me was screaming to do just that.
“You fucking killed him! I’ll shut this shit down!” Ramirez screamed from the sidelines.
That reminded me that I still had more work to do. I pinned Ramirez with my gaze, and for a split second his bravado slipped and a look of panic passed over his dark face. Less than a second later my feet were moving to the opening of the fence and I hopped down off the ring, landing a swift elbow to Ramirez’ jaw.
“Aw, fuck! I’m gonna ki—” His threat was cut off by a right hook to his jaw.
“Like I told your friend, less talking more fighting, you fucking bitch!” I growled, taking another swing but missing. Ramirez was quicker than Waltz. My adrenaline spiked again, grateful for a little more competition. I felt a searing pain at my side when a punch to my ribs landed, but I didn’t let that deter me. My rage propelled me forward even as Ramirez bellowed about being set-up and how he was going to ensure all of us would end up behind bars.
“Shut him the fuck up already!” Connor yelled from somewhere in the room and a number of guys cheered.
Ramirez went to respond but a cracking sound let out, when my knuckles made contact with his jaw. I vividly recalled the sight of his tooth flying from his mouth, blood spurting out from my vicious blow. My knuckles began to ache, as I hadn’t even bothered wrapping them for the fight. I’d feel the pain in the morning something serious, but I wanted to feel my flesh against theirs as I took all of my anger out on them.
By the time I came to, Ramirez was on the ground as well. He was still conscious but barely.
“Everybody out!” Connor yelled behind me. “Show’s over for now. Be back here tomorrow.”
I kept my eyes on the pile of shit in front of me. My chest was heaving and my arms felt too heavy to lift above my chest but I felt good.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I growled, shaking off whoever had just placed a hand on my shoulder. I spun around to see Connor backing up, hands in the air.
“Hey,” he stated cautiously, “just making sure you’re still with us. We got shit to do.”
I nodded and saw Brutus approach. “Wake them up.” I motioned to Ramirez and Waltz, still in the ring, with my head.
Brutus walked over and waved some smelling salts under Ramirez’s nose, resurrecting him. He picked him up and carried him to the ring before waving the smelling salt under Waltz’s nose, also awakening him.
I pulled one of the metal folding chairs that rested along one of the columns and brought it to the ring, sitting down in front of the two shitheads.
“Who the fuck are you?” Waltz spat.
