Path To Retaliation (Fighter's Den, #2)

Chapter 19 - Cameron

I bring a knee up and slam it into his rib cage and his hands instinctively grip my knee. I punch his jaw and he staggers to the side, holding onto it like I suspected he might. That leaves him vulnerable once again and I go back to lodging my knee into hit gut one, two, three times. He falls back on his ass and crab-walks away from me until his back hits the cage and he's got nowhere to go.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Coach's faint cheers are barely coherent over the roaring crowd.

I'm breathing hard but it's more so from pure adrenaline than fatigue. I'm fucking back, baby.

Fletcher stands up again and staggers slightly, watching me with wide eyes that can't mask both the confusion and fear I see in them. In this round alone my game has completely changed and thrown him off guard. I can use this to my advantage. Even though I can't win at this point, this round is going to be one the crowd remembers.

His arms are back in fighting position but I don't miss how they're slightly shaking now.

"You're still winning this one, man." I call out to him.

His brows draw together like he can't understand why I'm being nice. Truthfully I'm just trying to calm him down because it's no fun fighting someone whose distraught is a liability to their skill. He's a damn good fighter and that's who I want to face. Not this suddenly scared version of him.

I know I said the right thing when his face contorts into sheer determination and he charges right for me. I grin and clench my fists, more than ready. He jabs at me and I throw my head to the side so that he only catches air. I grab his arm, now poised right over my shoulder, and yank him down with all my strength. He lands on his side and I'm on him before he can even blink. One of my punches lands on his eye and I can tell by the way he flinches with his whole body that he'll have one hell of a shiner tomorrow.

"We match." I tell him, pointing at my own eye.

He's not amused. He growls and sits up, a jab catching me swiftly in the gut. I grunt with surprise and have no time to recover. In a second, he's got me on my back and a right hook on the underside of my jaw snaps my head up. I blindly swing an arm but don't manage to hit anything. I push up with my torso and use my legs to knock him off of me. I straighten up in time to see him on all fours trying to stand up. I launch myself at him and grab him around his waist from behind. His arms flail and try to get me off but my hold is strong and steady. I push my weight backwards and Fletcher lands roughly on his back. His face turns an alarming shade of red as he exhales roughly. I've literally knocked the wind out of him and it's the best opportunity I've had this whole match.

"You know what to do, West!" Coach's words tell me we're on the same page.

Fletcher's eyes fly up to mine, wild and hysteric, and I grimace a little.

"Sorry about this, brother." I tell him sincerely.

That's when I use all of my body weight to swing a mean ass right hook on his nose that sends his head back to the floor.

My knuckles vibrate with pain as the arena goes completely quiet for just a second before the crowd erupts in cheers that deafen my ears. The ref counts it and all the while I watch Fletcher with my breath held in anticipation. When the ref gets to seven, Fletcher suddenly jerks and sits up. I can hear the collective groan come from the audience but I just grin, knowing my punch wouldn't knock him out. Like I said, he has killer reflexes and a mind that just won't shut off. However, he's disoriented as fuck and although he hasn't been knocked out he's sure as hell out of it. His head bobs and his eyes blink lazily as if he's about to fall asleep any second. With just a couple of seconds left in the round I take a seat in front of him and watch in mild amusement as he tries to get himself together and fails repeatedly.