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❝I don't reply, you know the reason why. . .❞
Jess lied sprawled out in the middle of the ring, lungs begging for air as she gasped to catch her breath. She wasn't sure how much more she could take, hell most men don't make it past fifteen minutes with Lesnar and she'd been fighting for at least ten minutes—way longer than anyone expected her to last.
Brock could win right now and she knew she'd still have the universes respect but she was her father's daughter (no matter how much she hated it) and quit wasn't in her. It had never been.
With what little strength she had left she eased her way up, trying to ignore the fact that every muscle burned. The agony was written all over her face as she reached up to the second rope and struggled to keep her feet underneath her.
Those big green eyes swiveled around searching for the blonde beast, her heart racing with anticipation, adrenaline and just a dash of hysteria. He stood in one of the corners, thick, pale arms rested upon the top rope with such ease. Confidence practically dripped off of him. One corner of his mouth lifted with amusement, exposing his yellow crooked teeth.
Her jaw clenched with frustration, this was a joke to him. She was a joke to him. "You hit like a girl." She growled before spitting a mouth full of blood at his feet.
Those beastly features hardened in an instant and this time it was Jess' turn to smirk. Brock had the upper hand in strength but she was smarter and faster, it was time she proved it. That volatile attitude finally reared its ugly head, charging right at her.
Her green eyes widened with panic, her head swung left then right as she tried to think of what to do and just as he was close enough to feel his breath on her skin, her hands clamped down on the top rope pulling it with all the strength she could muster. Like she'd hoped, the large man flew over the rope and crashed to the ground.
Brock scrambled back to his feet, face beet red—Jess wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger, probably a mixture of the two.
Trying not to give it much thought (so she wouldn't back down), she grasped the red ropes tightly in her hands using them to catapult herself onto the rope momentarily before diving down to the man below.
Her forearm connected with his face just before they both collide with the floor.
The room spun as she blinked hard several times, trying to get her vision to come into focus. A distant chant from the crowd vibrated the floor below her but she couldn't quite make out what was being said.
What felt like minutes had only been seconds, she looked to her left and saw Heyman frantically yelling at his client, begging him to get up. Jess turned back to the ring and saw the ref with four fingers up, with that Calaway willpower she managed to get to her feet by the count of five and slid under the ropes just as he said six.
