Something about the way that she text that, it made me feel fucked up. She fucked me good as fuck then dipped on my ass.
—
For two days I heard nothing from her. No calls returned. No texts beyond one word responses that told me nothing. I had a weigh-in and several press meetings, but her ass was nowhere to be found. All that I could think was that she wasn’t okay with us being friends like she said she was.
—
Fight night had arrived and I couldn’t lie like I was focused. The news of Marcus father being BJ, the man who’s haunted my dreams all my life. The revelation that Tavarus let my brother sell for him, and possibly set him up to get shot. The fact that Kyla wasn’t talking to me and the fact that Bri was still heavy on my heart. So much shit was on my mind, but my life was riding on this fight.No matter what was going on around me, I had to live in this moment and show up for myself. All that other shit could wait.
The arena was bigger than anything I had ever fought in. Twenty thousand seats and most of them filled by the time I was walking through the back corridors in my robe with Gutta beside me and Coach Ray ahead of us. The noise of the crowd coming through the walls like something out a damn movie. My whole city showed up for me.
My brothers, Legal, and my moms was front and center. I vowed to never lose a fight in front of my momma, and I was gone stand on that.
This was it.
Everything my father never got to have.
Everything I had been working toward since the day that Legal walked me out of that courthouse and told me I was going to be heavyweight champion of the world if I applied myself.
Gutta put both hands on my shoulders in the corridor and looked at me straight.
“You been here before,” he said. “Every basement, every cage, every back alley situation where you had no business surviving, you survived all of that shit. This is just a bigger room. Same hands. Same heart. Same nigga that has never once in his life laid down for anybody.” He tightened his grip. “You go out there and you fight like Hood is watching. Because he is.”
I looked at my cousin and felt everything behind those words and I nodded once. Everything he said was right. I wasn’t new to this shit.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We walked out.
The noise hit me like a muthafucka the second I came through the tunnel and I walked through. I let it be what it was. Twenty thousand people, cameras, lights and my name on the screen above the ring. Xavier Street Hendrix. Twenty eight and zero.
I was almost to the ring when I saw her.
Kyla was sitting ringside beside my family in a fitted black dress with her hair down and when our eyes connected across the crowd she smiled and blew a kiss. And just like that everything else in the building fell away for about three seconds.
I nodded at her.
Then I climbed into the ring. I had to pop my shit. It was no way I could leave here with an L. Her showing up really meant something to me. Although I ain’t want to lead her on, I still cared about her. Heavy.
Darius Kemp was ranked number two in the WBC heavyweight division and he had forty one fights with thirty six knockouts. This nigga was a machine, and he moved into the center of thatring during the introduction like a man who had done this so many times he was bored by it.
He wasn’t bored.
He just wanted me to think he was. This nigga wanted this shit just as bad as I did, and I knew he was gone fight to the death for it. So was I.
I had watched enough of his footage with Coach to know how he moved,where he was dangerous and where he could be broken down. He was a body worker. Patient. He liked to set traps and wait for his opponent to walk into them. His knockout power was legitimate and consistent and he did not slow down in the late rounds the way some big men did.
He was the best opponent I had ever faced.
I intended to break him anyway.
First round he came out measured and technical, I let him. Felt him out. Let him think he was reading me while I was reading him. He landed a right hand in the second minute that snapped my head back and the crowd made noise of shock, I reset and kept moving.
Second round I started working the body. The same way I had always worked — getting inside, making it ugly, making him feel me in his ribs before I went upstairs. He came back with a left hook that caught me flush and I grabbed him and held on while my vision cleared and the referee broke us apart. This nigga was eating like the rent was due. He wasn’t laying down easy. I had to really get focused.I wouldn’t lie like he didn’t have power behind them gloves, this nigga was ruthless and really had me questioning how this would go.
Third round he got me with a combination that put me on the canvas.
The arena went insane.
