Yeah, George was new.
Henley smiled.
George’s expression faltered—clearly surprised the punch hadn’t fazed him.
Henley shifted left, rolled his shoulder—then launched a swift undercut with his opposite hand.The feint worked.George braced for a hit from the wrong side.Henley’s fist connected under his chin, splitting his knuckles and sending George sprawling to the mat.
“Get up, boy!”Buxby shouted.“That was one little undercut.You’ve got more in you, don’t you?”
Henley bit back a grin.That undercut had been perfectly placed—no wonder George’s ears were likely ringing.
He stepped back, balanced on the balls of his feet, waiting.Buxby started the count, but George staggered up before it finished.
“Damn, you hit like a pissed mule.”George groaned.
“That I do,” Henley replied, watching George work his jaw and shake his head before lunging forward again.
Henley deflected the blow easily and delivered another punch—this one just above George’s left ear.George dropped to his knees.
“Two hits—you can take him, George!Get up!”Buxby called, though his tone was more amused than encouraging.
Henley shot him a glare.“He’s new.Let the poor kid breathe.”
“Kid?”George stood and swiped at the blood near his ear.“I might be your age—and I’ve been fighting five years.”
Henley frowned and turned to Buxby.“Bux?I thought you said the kid was new?”
Buxby rang the bell.“That’s enough.”
“Bux.”Henley narrowed his eyes.“Explain.”
“I might have fibbed… a bit.”
“At my expense, clearly.”George rolled his shoulders.“I only landed one hit.He’s way better than you let on, Buxby.”
Henley stepped toward his cousin.“Go on.”
Buxby lifted his hands in a mock-defensive gesture.“Okay.There was a kid who needed a real fight.I figured you’d go easy on him and give him a chance to learn.But he backed out once he found out who you were.”
Henley sighed.“So?”
“So, George was practicing nearby.He heard everything.Wanted a go.I agreed.I never thought you’d come back, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to get you in the ring again.”
“And George is…” Henley looked at the man anew.
“George was the guy who took out Ol’ Tom.”
Henley blinked.“Tom Blecher?The one Prinny came to see?”
“That Tom.”
“But George… sucked bollocks.”
“I prefer to think of it as you being that good.”George clapped him on the back.“I’d fight Tom any day over another hit from you.You’re a nightmare.”
“I wasn’t even trying,” Henley muttered.
“Don’t make it worse.”George groaned.“I didn’t believe Buxby, but now I think he undersold you.I’ll take my leave—my pride’s more bruised than my face.”He waved and walked off into the dark hallway.
