For several minutes, the two of them circled each other. James was light on his toes. Several times, Farrell lunged at him, but each time James dodged him easily. He was fast, and her heart rate quickened at the sight.
Maybe he can win this.
“Oh, come on!” Farrell snapped after the fifth time this happened. “Don’t just dodge! Fight me like a man!”
But James merely smiled, and Violet realized what he was doing—he was tiring out the bigger, stronger man. He might be smaller, but he was quick and had a high endurance.
“Stopdodging!”Farrell snarled as he lunged at James again.
But this time, James didn’t just dodge. He leaned back, as if away from the punch, while at the same time swinging his fist. It landed on Farrell’s temple with a surprisingly loudthud, and he jolted backward.
“Aargh!” he yelled, enraged, and then he launched himself at James.
This time, James couldn’t escape. He was now trapped against the side of the pit, and Farrell came at him with everything he had. What ensued were several furious minutes of punching and grappling, during which Violet wasn’t sure if she could keep watching. Her husband received some serious blows, but he also landed some.
“Please God,” she whispered, bringing her palms together discreetly. “Please help him. Please let him win.”
And then James managed to find an opening and dart through it. Suddenly he was behind Farrell, with a whole open ring behind him, and he was landing blow after blow.
Farrell, slower to turn, was confused, and he roared with anger.
“Your hold overmyduchy is over!” James yelled as he landed another blow on the gang boss’s ear. “You are like a sickness infecting this land, but I will draw you out! And in the process, I will cure my tenants of your disease!”
Farrell turned, and the look in his eyes was one of irate hatred. With a burst of energy he hadn’t shown before, he rushed forward, quick as lightning, and punched James in the chin, sending him flying.
James landed in a heap on the other side of the pit.
“No!” Violet screamed, but it was drowned out by the crowd’s impassioned and angry oohing. Their favorite fighter was losing.
Violet clutched the edge of her seat, willing herself to keep watching. She wanted to turn away, but she had to be strong for James. Tears pricked her eyes, but she still didn’t look away.
“Get up,” she whispered to herself. “Get up, James!”
The crowd had begun counting. “One… two… three…”
“Get up!” Violet heard herself shout.
“Four… five… six…”
And somehow, miraculously, James was pulling himself to his feet. Just as the crowd reachednine, he was back up again.
His eyes met hers, and she nodded. “You can do this,” she murmured, and she knew he had understood her, even from a distance. His eyes flashed with determination, and his jaw clenched.
Farrell looked cocky as he stepped forward again. “Ready to surrender yet?!” he shouted.
James lifted his chin. “Never.”
Farrell lunged, and James dodged then landed a hard blow on the side of the gang boss’s head. He dodged another swing, then hit him again on the other side. Farrell stumbled backward, and James pressed his advantage. One, two, three, four blows… too many to count! His fists were moving so quickly that they became a blur.
Then he landed one last blow on the gangster’s head, and Farrell toppled over. Blood was trickling from his mouth, his eyes were bruised, and his face was purple and swollen as he fell to the ground.
The crowd went wild, screaming with delight and excitement. They began to count again.
“One… two… three… four…”
“Stay down,” Violet whispered. Her fingernails were digging into her seat.
Farrell crawled towards the edge of the pit and tried to push himself up, but he fell down again.
