Chapter 81

Haley

“Kick series! Kick series!” I bang on the cage.

West has taken control and he solidly kicks Matt’s side. Matt doubles over. Good God in heaven, West has struck a knee-bending blow. He could do this. He could stand for all three rounds.

The ref slides between Matt and West and checks Matt to make sure can continue. My eyes meet West’s and I nod my approval. “Keep that guard up.”

Matt waves the ref off and West refocuses on the fight. Matt’s trained and he’s experienced. He slipped into emotion and he won’t allow the mistake again. He’ll want retaliation and he’ll want it on the floor. “Stay off the floor,” I scream. “He wants the floor!”

Matt surges forward and West sidesteps the wrong way. Both of them slam to the ground and the cage vibrates with the impact. The crowd goes insane.

Matt tries to throw a knee over West to straddle. His elbow and forearm go after West’s air passage and West scrambles to move away, but Matt’s too trained to allow easy release.

“Kick your hips up! Get under his legs!”

West thrusts up and Matt crashes into him, sending him back down. He presses his forearm into West’s windpipe.

“Kick your hips up!” I yell again. “Under his legs!”

But West panics with the loss of air and his hands shoot to Matt’s arms. I bang against the fence. “Listen to me, Young!”

The reaction is instantaneous. He thrusts back up again and Matt’s grip loosens. The crowd hollers their approval when West ducks and rolls out of the hold and brings the fight back to their feet.

Matt and West round each other. The crowd claps in unison, waiting for either to attack. I glance at the ticking clock. “Thirty seconds!”

Three rounds of three minutes each and the end is near. His first competition and I know he needs to finish it out. Both of them sway with exhaustion. Matt stomps forward and West reacts by jumping out of the way. Matt will go for the knees again.

We trained for this moment. I dragged West through the mud and back again. At this point, it has nothing to do with strength, but everything to do with heart.

“Kick series!” I rattle the cage. “Kick series.”

West wipes at the sweat over his eyes and begins the dance on the floor. His legs switch as he searches for the right moment. Sensing an attack, Matt parallels, then strikes.

Matt throws a cross and West blocks and lands a front kick into his chest. Matt stumbles and I join the crowd cheering. West continues the attack, pinning Matt against the cage.

The entire arena stomps on the floor when the bell rings and the ref pulls West off Matt. West circles the cage, pounding his fist to his chest and the crowd eats it up.

With palms up against the cage, he leans into me. I wish this was the movies. I wish I could rush the cage and wrap myself around him, but there are rules and there is respect and later I’ll show him my love and gratitude. “You did it.”

West sucks in air and latches on to my fingers that I weaved through the fence. “I didn’t win.”

“I don’t care.” The decision by the judges against him should be fast. Matt scored more punches. He dominated the fight, but West stood three rounds and he sent a message to everyone within earshot of the cage: West Young has heart and he never gives up. That, in the fighting world, makes him dangerous.

He rests his forehead against the cage and I press mine against the same spot. Our fingers touch and I close my eyes, wishing we were alone.

“You’re worth it.” West is black-and-blue and bloodied and swelling. His body has been hammered and brutalized and cut. “You are worth all of this.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

The ref approaches West from behind. “Decision’s in.”

West flashes me that same glorious smile as the first day we met. “I already won.”

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