Path To Redemption (Fighter's Den, #1)

Chapter 13 - Jaxon

The five minute warning bell goes off and Coach stands, clapping both hands on my shoulders.

"Let's get you set."

I take off my silver fighting robe, handing it to Cameron who stands just outside my side of the ring. Coach hands me my gloves and I pull them on, curling my hands at the familiar covering and testing them out. He puts my mouth guard in for me next, my mouth stretching around it, and then my head covering. The noise of the crowd dims when my ears get covered. He taps the side of my helmet twice.

"Remember, use your defense like we practiced. When you tire him out, then go for a strike. And hit the left of his jaw; it's been broken before." With one final tap to my helmet, he bends and slips under the rope to join the guys.

I look out to inspect the crowd. Several have jumped out of their seats, cheering and holding up various signs. A few have started chanting Sanders' name and the prick stand with his arms up, grinning. The crowd goes crazy when he mimes a few punches. I'm tempted to spit my mouth guard at him. But then, I almost have to laugh at his suddenly angry expression when I hear my name being chanted. One of the girls at the front even thrusts her chest out at me, the shirt she's wearing spelling CAGE across her large breasts. I merely tap my helmet and my side of the crowd goes crazy over that lone action. It's fucking exhilarating but Coach's words come back to me: don't let anything get to you. My egotistical opponent is walking proof of just why.

Subconsciously, I look around for Emily and can't help the disappointment when I don't see her. I know I've been putting major and evident distance between us since yesterday but I wanted her to be here, cheering the loudest as she'd said. Cameron walking in on us though was a fucking wake up call if I've ever had one. It didn't matter how many times I told myself it wasn't anything that crossed boundaries. It was. And it almost felt serious to me and serious is not the way I went with girls. Why should Emily be any different? So I put up my walls and I know this pissed her off because all day yesterday I'd been reaching out to her first, only to ultimately shut her out. I feel contradicting anger and annoyance firing me up and I get my emotions under control. There's no emotion in the ring.

The bell rings three times and the lights of the fighting hall dim. Each of the stage lights come on with a click and the cheering heightens to the point of deafening. The match has started. I turn to the main camera. I bring my right glove up to my mouth, kissing it, before stretching it back up. The crowd's cheers intensify over this even though they don't know the meaning behind it.

I turn back to Sanders, who's looking a me impatiently, and we knock gloves. Game on.

The both of us bounce on our feet, circling one another but not striking. My heart is thudding from nerves and I can already feel myself breaking out into a sweat. The cheering dissolves into the background as I bring all of my attention to the fight. I mentally run over all of my moves and his, playing our fight out in my head. Most boxers are told to be prepared for anything but Coach encourages me to do mental play-outs. Even I know my predictions are always on fucking point. And from what I've studied in Sanders' fights, he always says a few things to his opponent before deciding to get down to it. The asshole confirms my prediction abilities when he opens his mouth.

"What did you say your name was again, newbie?" He taunts.

I raise an unamused brow. Don't engage.

"If I wanted to fight a faceless nobody, I could've sparred with one of the janitors at my gym." He sniggers.

He doesn't trust his own fighting abilities.

I smirk when Coach's words come back to me. I was also fairly good at reading people and I'm amused as fuck that this asshole is actually nervous. Because Coach is right; he doesn't know what's coming.