Page 101 of Xavier

Twenty-seven

Him

“Hey, Xavier, how are you doing, man?”

I ignore the guy at the front desk and continue walking past the machines to the back of the training area. My jacket lands on the floor where I throw it, and I kick my shoes off, looking around the gym.

“Hey. You. Wanna spar?” I say to a young guy doing burpees on the mat.

“Me?” he says, patting his chest.

“Yeah, I’m looking at you, aren’t I? What? Scared I’ll kick your ass? You’ve got forty pounds on me.”

He snorts and jumps to his feet. I was wrong, he’s got at least sixty pounds on me, and six inches. “No, old man, I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid FOR you.”

“Don’t waste your breath on the trash talk. Just put your money where your meathead is.” I slide under the ropes and into the ring.

“You wanna stretch a little first?”

“Let’s just do this.” I don’t need to warm up. The walk here from Malynda’s apartment was warm up enough. I need something to help me cool the fuck off.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he says, joining me in the ring.

“Rules?”

“No fucking rules,” I say and swing my left arm.

He ducks out of the way, light on his feet for such a big guy.

“Your funeral,” he says, shrugging.

I can only hope.

He’s fast. I can barely keep up just trying to duck and weave out of the way of his fists. His long arms make it hard. My breath is ragged already. I’m not really dressed for this. My suit pants aren’t conducive to the high kicks, so I’m going to be aiming for his fucking knees instead. Even though they’re almost the height of my waist.

He punches and I lunge forward, hoping to catch his arm in a hold. He shakes me off like I’m an annoying bug that landed on his wrist. I trip as I land, awkwardly, but manage to get up onto my feet before he pins me down.

I attack this time with a barrage of strikes and land a hit on the side of his face. He growls and spins, his foot connecting with my hip with a back kick that knocks the air out of me.

We both retreat to our corners to catch our breath, shaking the pain from our bodies.

He lifts his arm to wipe the sweat off his brow and I take this chance to charge him, ramming my shoulder into his stomach.

“Ah!” he grunts as he doubles over but he doesn’t fall; instead, he moves his arm to hook around my neck and slams me to the ground. I fall on my back, and he straddles over me, his eyes burning red. He lifts an arm and his closed fist comes down to slam against the side of my face. I almost choke from the impact, I’ve never been punched so hard.

I barely have time to recover before I feel him lift his arm ready for another punch.

“Give up?” he growls.

“Fuck you,” I spit and he responds, striking against the other side of my face. Fuck.

I punch my arm up out of habit and make contact with his chest. Not that it matters. It’s hard as steel.

“Is… that all you’ve got?” I taunt him, as I feel him move to get off me.

He snorts and looms over me again, I stare at him, daring him. He bares his teeth and swings again, his knuckles slamming against my face so hard I feel something tear and crack.

“Again,” I rasp, and he grins lifting his arm again.