“What the fuck just happened?” I asked him, twisting him to face me.
“I don’t need you to jinx me or nothing. We don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“What the fuck you talking about?”
His eyes drifted away. Everything around me was blocked out, now he had me confused and slightly worried. “The odds are against me.” The fire in him felt like it was dying down, like he was already admitting defeat.
I knew that look, far too well from back in the day in the war zone. “Let me tell you something. Never look at the odds, because the only person that you can control is you. This is your fight, not anyone else’s. You have worked too damn hard and come this far to look at me and say that dumb shit. You are a fighter inside and out. Do you want to win this fight?”
He sheepishly nodded. That wasn’t going to cut it. “Let’s try that again. Do you want to win? Do you want to prove everyone in this arena wrong, for anyone that fucking doubted you, for anyone that said you could never win. Fuck them and win this fight.”
Dillon’s eyes looked like a spark ignited. It only took words to get him back to the mindset he needed to win it once and for all. Blaze, one of the prospects and one of Dillon’s friends, came up from behind, slapping a hand on his back. “You ready, motherfucker?”
“I’m ready to win.”
Atta boy. I’d be lying if I said that a little sense of pride didn’t fill my chest. The boy had worked too hard to not win, hisdedication and drive is what made him a perfect fighter and a perfect opponent. He wouldn’t back down from a challenge.
Chapter 17
Shooter
Three rounds. That was all he had to survive. He could go on to more, but I knew in three rounds he could make it a TKO and win the whole thing. Outwit the opponent, defend yourself like it was a real-life situation.
Dillon’s walk-out song played through the speakers; the roar of the crowd gave him more light to his fire. Blaze and Stray walked beside him as I brought up the rear. He wasn’t going to need much coaching from me from the side, but just being there was going to be enough for him.
I felt the familiar twinge of fury when his opponent stepped in. The size of the man was almost double the muscle of Dillon. Dillon was a heavy built man that looked like he could play college ball. But this man he was facing looked like he stepped out of a fight from the Bible. He was a giant. Shit, he looked like the size of Blaze and myself combined.
I looked at Stray, and yanked his ass back toward me. “What the fuck is this David and Goliath shit?” It was a bit unethical in fighting standards, though this was the league fight, nor could anyone really know.
“He was one of the only ones that wanted to go up against Dillon, what more do you want me to say?” Stray shrugged. “And technically if you remember your Sunday school education, David won.”
Smartass didn’t help.
“No wonder why he thought the odds were against him,” I spat out.
“He’ll be fine. He has more brains than that fighter does anyway,” Stray tried to reason with me.
That didn’t help. A fighter could be smarter than their opponent, but sometimes it was the power behind the throws. Dillon was a good fighter. I had faith that he would give his all.
The crowd’s cheers grew louder and louder as the moments passed by when the fighters got to their corners, preparing themselves for their own fight.
Dillon looked around like he was taking in the moment, trying to gather the strength to push forward. His eyes searched for me. I stepped up to the edge. “You okay?”
“Just making sure I’m making the right decision,” he said honestly.
“What you need to do is fight for yourself. This is what you wanted. You made the choice to stand up here and prove yourself.” My words sounded a bit harsh, but he needed them nonetheless.
He simply nodded, prepared for the ref to signal them to begin their first round. Dillon kept it on the defensive side, taking a couple blows to the body, but stood himself back up and showed that he was ready. Something about this fight made me feel like I couldn’t watch. Maybe it was my attachment to the boy. Maybe I knew that this matchup wasn’t completely fair.
Watching him take blows upon blows was hard enough to watch in any of his other fights, but watching him with this Goliath of a man, I wanted him to win but needed him to be safeand smart. Something was still off about this fight, and it was driving me nuts. Maybe it was the way Dillon’s fighting stance wasn’t strong enough. Was he putting too much effort into studying his opponent?
With one ding of the bell, Dillon was struck down from a blow to the face. The ref charged at his opponent before he could think of charging at him. Dillon laid there for a moment, before shakily anchoring himself to stand up. A dribble of blood slid down his face, and I felt that fire in me burning to take the motherfucker out myself.
As strong as he was, he made himself get back up and stride back to his corner.
“I should have just stayed down,” he whispered.
“Nah uh, junior, you look at me,” I commanded, pushing Blaze out of the way as he attempted to wipe off the blood. “You want to tell me what that was? What was I seeing?”
