“You got this,” Maxie says as if sensing my doubt.
The microphone crackles. “Our next fighter is new to the cage, but she’s ready to show us her stuff.” The referee’s announcement breaks into my thoughts.
“Let’s hear it for Martina, fighting for the Royal Harlots.”
Maxie grabs my shoulders. “You’re ready, and you can do this.”
I jog up the three metal steps leading to the cage, push through the door and swagger onto the mat. The ref brings us tothe center of the cage, and we size each other up. She’s my height but bulkier, which could mean slower. The ref steps away, the bell rings, and we circle each other.
“Take your time, Martina,” Maxie yells from the sidelines. “Find your spot.”
My opponent takes a few jabs that I easily deflect. I set up for a roundhouse kick, but she’s ready for me and delivers a sharp leg kick. I quickly recover and circle to the left, trying to find an opening. She’s strong but slow—just as I suspected. I stay on the balls of my feet, bouncing left and right. Using my natural agility to keep her off-balance.
The crowd is cheering and out of control, but it all meshes together as adrenaline rockets through my veins. I’m high on the control and the power coursing through my body.
She swings, and I duck. She jabs again, and I bob to the left. She swings wide, and I go in low, head-butting her in the gut then crashing my fist into her jaw. She staggers backwards, and I don’t relent. I throw a flurry of punches, ending with a hook that briefly stuns her.
We circle each other again, and I’m zeroed in on her eyes. When they flicker, I’m ready. She charges, I bounce to the side, and she loses her balance. I use the advantage to deliver another roundhouse kick that connects.
I reposition myself. The cage rattles, and my gaze darts to the left.
“You got this, babe,” Diesel shouts, fisting the links of the cage. “You got this.”
The split-second distraction allows my opponent to attack with a brain-shaking blow to my left temple, followed by a fierce kick to my power leg. My knee collapses, and I crumble to the mat. She follows me down, raining body shots. I deflect most of them, rolling away from her and scrambling to my feet.She follows me up and attempts a single-leg takedown, which I avoid, using the cage for balance.
Back in control, I deliver a series of punches. She blocks the first, but I land the rest, and when she staggers backward, I end with a well-placed roundhouse kick. She struggles to retain her balance, side-steps then crashes to the mat. As the ref starts the countdown, she struggles to her hands and knees, then collapses to the mat for the remainder of the count.
The crowd erupts, and I hear them chanting my name. It’s invigorating, stimulating, and the best high ever.
“You did it!” Maxie bangs on the cage. Marisol and the other Harlots are going wild alongside her. My heart is full with their camaraderie.
I quickly scan the crowd for Diesel as the ref pulls me into the middle of the cage, raising my hands over my head and declaring me the winner. The blinding lights and the cheers from the crowd surround me.
They’re still chanting my name when I exit the cage to Maxie’s strong embrace. “You did it.” She grips my shoulders. “You won your first bout.”
“It was unbelievable. Something I’ve never felt.”
“Pretty good, right?” She hands me a towel, and I wipe the sweat from my face and neck.
“Here’s the winner!” Marisol and the other Harlots surround me in a group hug, and I’ve never felt so accepted and so in the right place.
We head toward the gym, and I do a quick scan of the crowd.
“He’s not here.” Maxie follows me into the gym as I head for the locker room.
I consider asking who, but how dumb would that sound?
“He totally distracted you, so I told him to get the hell away from the cage,” Maxie adds.
Of course, she was right. Seeing Diesel even for that half second messed with my concentration.
“Get showered and changed, then we head over to The Tropics to celebrate.”
“The Tropics?” I didn’t want to see Diesel, plus I didn’t want anything to ruin this night.
“Don’t worry. I had a talk with him and laid it all out ‘cause there’s no way I’m having him mess with my latest up-and-coming fighter.”
I gather my toiletries and towel out of my locker, afraid to ask exactly what she said to Diesel. Maxie doesn’t beat around the bush when she expresses herself, and Diesel is blunt as hell, so it must’ve been an interesting conversation.
