Fighting Thrasher Jones

{14} My Escape

Without a second thought, I threw my arms around Benji's broad shoulders and hugged him tightly. His entire body stiffened and his arms remained rigid by his sides.

"Thank you," I repeated to which Benji said, "You already thanked me."

"No, I mean for being friends with my brother. We're going to win the competition together, okay?"

After a few seconds, Benji's arms came up around my back and he pulled me close, murmuring, "Of course."

I didn't know how long we stood in each other's embrace before we separated. I blushed, pushing my glasses higher up the bridge of my nose as I awkwardly shuffled my feet and twisted the ring that Leo had given me.

Benji cleared his throat, announcing, "Carlos should be here soon."

"Oh, are you two training?"

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and replied, "Yeah. Despite his appearance, Carlos is no one to mess with. He made it to the finals last year for a reason."

A sudden thought occurred to me and I pointed out, "Won't you have to challenge Carlos during the competition?"

Benji shrugged. "It depends on how the bracket is set up, but if we both make it to the finals..."

"Then you'll have to fight each other," I finished for him.

"But don't worry," Benji grinned, "I'll take him down if it comes to that."

"I can hear you, kid!" A familiar voice joked from behind the door of the apartment.

Benji laughed, crossing the room to open the door for Carlos who had a pair of bright red boxing gloves tucked under one of his arms and a pair of worn, faded boxing gloves under the other. Shooting a look over his shoulder, he came inside and closed the door behind him.

"Hey, Drew," he greeted. "Sabrina's not here, is she? I wouldn't want her to witness it when I crush her little bro, you know?"

Benji chuckled. "Don't get so arrogant," he daringly warned with a crooked smile.

"They don't call me Fuego Carlitos for nothing," Carlos boasted and puffed out his chest, causing Benji to snort.

"Let's just get started," Benji said, snatching the old boxing gloves from Carlos. He removed his long sleeved shirt to uncover a gray tank top he wore underneath. His inky black tattoos impressively spiraled the length of his muscular arms, and I found myself searching for the initials Jackson had discovered.

Carlos confidently cracked his knuckles before sliding on his newer gloves as Benji dragged over the blue mat and put on his own gloves. I stood back as each of the boys chose a side and raised their arms, bent at the elbows. They bounced on the balls of their feet as their faces constricted into full seriousness and unyielding determination.

"Three," Benji began the countdown.

Carlos stretched his arms out, saying, "Two."

"One," they said together.

Benji's eyes glowed as he and Carlos circled the mat. He was the first to attack, lashing out with a quick jab to Carlos' chest. Carlos easily blocked the jab with his forearm and countered with a punch that carried much more strength than Benji had used. Landing a solid hit on Benji's shoulder, Carlos concluded the combination by socking his opponent in the jaw with his left hand.