Undefeated - A New Adult Romance Novel (20 page)

“Holy fuck. C’mon,” he demanded as he grabbed my arm.

As we started walking toward Kelsey, I pulled the dog tags from my pocket. Ripp took me right to the corner by Kelsey. I was embarrassed and filled with shame.

“Boss, she’s got Dekk’s dog tags.
The
tags,” Ripp said as soon as he grabbed my wrist, holding my hand up for Kelsey to see.

“Praise the fucking Lord. Alright, listen to me,” he demanded as he grabbed my face with his hands.

“Fucking listen,” he screamed at me as the bell sounded.

Ding!

“We’ve
got one fucking minute,
you’ve
got about thirty seconds of that minute. Say something meaningful – and god damn it Kace, make it count,” he said as he turned back toward the ring.

I looked up as Shane came to the corner.

Kelsey screamed at Shane and Shane spit in the bucket. He gave Shane water from the bottle and I stepped toward the ring with the dog tags in my hand.

“Shane, lookie here,” Kelsey said as he stepped to Shane
’s side and pointed toward me.

“Shane,” I said quietly, getting Shane’s attention.

Without thinking, I held the dog tags behind my back and started talking. I let my mind and my mouth just flow, saying whatever came to my mind. For once in my life, what I thought, felt, and said were the same. Nothing got jumbled, and everything just came out.

“Your
father fought his demons in the war. He made peace with himself, God, and probably your mother before or maybe just as he died. He fought in that war to make everything that was jumbled up inside his head make sense. You fight your demons in the boxing ring, Shane. You wore these dog tags for years as a tribute to your father. The person he was hasn’t changed. It’s just your perception. He
chose
to fight in that war. He volunteered. He did it to make you proud of him. Now, it’s your turn. Do your god damned job. Make
him
proud,” I held the dog tags in the air as I cried.

Sitting on his stool, S
hane looked at Ripp, turned to Kelsey, and pounded his fists together, holding the dog tags between his gloves.

Kelsey reached toward Shane’s mouth with the mouthpiece. Shane shook his head, released the dog tags into my hands.

“I got this,” he said toward Ripp and I.

He turned to Kelsey, “My way.”

Kelsey shoved the mouthpiece into Shane’s mouth as the bell rang.

Shane jumped up and shuffled to the center of the ring.

Ripp and I hurried back to our seats. As we got into place, Ripp turned to face me.

“You damn near had me in tears, shorty. You did real well. Now, hold those things tight in your hand,” he motioned to the dog tags hanging from the chain in my hand.

I gripped the dog tags and turned to face the ring, Shane was fighting in close with Mc Claskey. Mc Claskey was pounding Shane just like in the other rounds – beating his mid-section and arms. Mc Claskey swung a wild uppercut and missed Shane’s chin by and inch as Shane leaned back away from the punch.

Mc Claskey worked Shane into the corner and began clenching him – almost hugging him as they pressed against the ropes in the corner. Both fighters were covered in sweat, their muscles twitching as the pressed against each other and threw the occasional punch.

“He’s tired, shorty. That big fucker’s tired, he’s clenching him. Dekk’s no fool,” Ripp screamed as he pointed to the corner where they were fighting.

“Get out of that corner, Dekk. He’s worn out already,” Ripp screamed.

Shane began twisting his body, attempting to break free from between Mc Claskey and the ropes. As Mc Claskey stepped back, Shane broke free, and Mc Claskey fell into the ropes. Shane immediately went to the center of the ring, leaving Mc Claskey at the corner.

Mc Claskey turned, and began to work his was slowly to the center of the ring. As he did, Shane pounded his fists together and curled his gloves toward his chest repeatedly.

“Oh shit,” Ripp laughed.

“He’s taunting him,” he said as he pointed at the ring.

“He’s calling him out. That’s like a slap in the face,” Ripp chuckled.

“C’mon, Dekk!” Ripp screamed.

As soon as Mc Claskey got close enough to Shane to swing, he threw a punch. Shane moved his head to the right, and the punch flew past his head. My heart began to race. As soon as Mc Claskey pulled his hand back, Shane shuffled his feet, and began dancing around Mc Claskey, curling his gloves.

“What the fuck?” Ripp said.

“What?” I asked.

“Well, look. He’s switching it up. He’s switched to orthodox. He’s gonna fight him orthodox. What the fuck’s he doing?” Ripp kind of chuckled as he spoke.

I knew that orthodox meant right handed. Shane could fight both ways, and depending on who he was fighting, would train to fight one way or the other. He had trained to fight this fight left handed - switching his style in the middle of the fight was not normal.

Kelsey began screaming toward the center of the ring.

Mc Claskey worked his way toward Shane. As he approached, Shane hit him in the face and shoulders with a series of quick jabs. Mc Claskey began to raise his gloves, and as soon as he did, Shane hit him in the stomach.

Mc Claskey’s face looked like he’d been shot. Obviously Shane got him with a good one. Shane continued to pummel Mc Claskey’s torso with punches and swing an uppercut every few punches.

Ripp started screaming.

The entire crowd started to stand up and cheer.

Mc Claskey threw a few short punches and attempted to clutch Shane, holding him in close. Shane pushed his gloves against Mc Claskey and stepped back, freeing himself from his grasp.

Immediately, as they separated, Shane hit Mc Claskey with a series of punches – initially to the mid-section and then to the face and shoulders. A wild uppercut
barely missed. Mc Claskey offered little if anything in return.

The crowd continued to roar.

Shane stepped back. Mc Claskey approached. As he did, Shane hit him with left and right jabs in the face. As Mc Claskey raised his gloves to his face, Shane hit his gloves.

Some of the fans began chanting. I
tried to block them out and stay focused on the fight. Shane began to work Mc Claskey’s mid-section harder and harder, hitting him two dozen times to Mc Claskey’s two or three. As soon as Mc Claskey would attempt to fight back, Shane would step aside or away. Mc Claskey seemed to become tired.

Shane was winning now, and my view of the fight changed completely. This was exciting and somewhat erotic, watching Shane beat this guy like this. I felt myself begin to tingle as Shane beat Mc Claskey’s face with a series of punches.

Get him baby. Get him good.

Shane was covered in sweat and his muscles flared with each swing. His hair was wet. His face, shoulders, legs, and chest - all soaked. Something about a man covered in muscles and sweat really made me feel uneasy.

The good kind.

As Shane continued to beat on Mc Claskey, I began to feel myself getting wet.

Ding!

The crowd became quiet.

“Oh my God, that was exciting,” I looked toward Ripp, smiling.

Ripp was rubbing his bald head and appeared to not even hear me. I turned to watch Shane and Kelsey. Kelsey was screaming at Shane and hitting his shoulders as he squirted water in his mouth.

My heart raced. People started chanting again.

I looked up at the steel structure above us and listened at the chants of the crowd.

Shame…..on!

Shame…..on!

Shame…..on!

Ding!

“Ripp, they’re screaming for Shane!” I screeched as the bell rang.

The crowd continued to cheer. The cheers seemed to fuel Shane. Ripp and Kelsey both have said that Shane hears everything as he fights. I squeezed the dog tags between my hands and hoped that the cheers gave Shane courage.
I turned toward Ripp, who shook his fists in front of his chest.

As I turned back to the ring, Shane stood in the center as Mc Claskey approached. Shane pounded his gloves together.

“Here we go,” Ripp screamed.

Do it again, baby. Do it again.

SHANE.
If this prick thinks he has me figured out, he’s dead wrong.

C’mon, you big son-of-a-bitch.

Mc Claskey approached and held his gloves close to his face. From what I could see in the first rounds, he didn’t have much to counter my speed. Ripp, Kelsey, and Kace probably thought I was crazy in the first four rounds. I had to see what this big fucker was made of.

He’s strong as fuck.

He’s soft.

And he’s slow.

I stepped in close and switched to southpaw.

Here’s where I belong, big boy. Coming at ya with
this.

I swung a
right hook into his ribs. As he exhaled what little breath might have been in his lungs, his face had a look of surprise that his eyes couldn’t hide.

I swung a left cross that caught the bottom of his jaw. As he turned to try to take me to the ropes, I stepped in close and clenched him, holding him still.

What, you big muscled up prick? You don’t like fighting? You wanna wrestle?

He should know I don’t like to push and shove. I let go and pushed him off.

I came here to fight.

I unleashed a series of punches to his mid-section - an unanswered
barrage of hooks and jabs that would have dropped any previous fighter in my career.

I swung an uppercut
, and barely missed his jaw.

Shame…

On.

Shame…

On.

The crowd cheered
my name. I have never been a vain person, but the crowd was something that I have never heard before. I hate to admit it, but I liked it. The chanting provided me with a reason to show this big fuck what I came here for.

He attempted to get me off of him with a right jab. An uppercut followed. Both were dodged without much effort. I stepped back to his right, and swung a left hook into his ribs.

Oh shit, that felt like it cracked.

I’ve always said the eye
s don’t lie. And his didn’t. He was hurt.

I knew what was next.

Lord. Prevent me from…

I swung a right-left hook into his torso.

Killing…

I threw a series of jabs to get him off balance.

This big bastard.

I threw a
signature left hook at his ribs. He body twisted to his right, and both gloves came down for a fraction of a section. A fraction is all I needed.

I swung a right uppercut that connected directly with the bottom of his jaw. I followed with a left jab that connected solid with the front of his chin. His chin came down just a touch and his gloves dropped completely.

Everything went to slow motion for a moment. I heard the crowd cheering my name. I heard Kelsey pounding the mat, indicating the end of the round being only seconds away. And I heard, clear as day, Mike fucking Ripton scream.

You got this, Dekk!

A few times in my career, I have thrown a punch and regretted it. After it is thrown, it’s impossible to stop, especially by someone with my speed and strength. The right cross I threw at Mc Claskey’s temple was one of those punches. As soon as I threw it, I realized he was already unconscious. The punch connected on the left side of his temple. His head looked as if it was going to snap off of his neck.

And he fell to the mat.

And he did not move.

I vaguely remember seeing the referee step in. I turned toward the crowd. Everyone was on their feet, cheering. I looked back at Mc Claskey.

And he did not move.

The referee waved his hands.

And I realized that I had gone the distance. Not in this fight, but in my career - and with Kace. The Heavyweight Championship of the world was next. From what I had read, several million people were watching this fight on Pay-Per-View. Without a doubt, I would be a household name overnight. The title fight would bring millions of dollars, even if I lost the bout.

Mc Claskey moved his head.

Thank you Lord.

When they finally got Mc Claskey to his feet, I heard the announcer before I noticed all of the people gathered around me. And it sunk in.

I have actually won.

“
…of the sixth round. By knockout. The winner,
Shane Shame on Dekkar.
”

As Kace stepped into the ring, my dog tags dangling from her clenched fist, I saw the look of pride in her eyes. And I further realized, not only had I won this fight -
I had clearly won at the game of life.