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***
Bricks likes to roar as he attacks. Stupid move, just like Colt said. I’ve taken quite a few hits, and my head is buzzing like a beehive, but now I know. Warned, I twist to the side and under his swinging fist.
Not that there’s much space inside the cage, and I crash into the thick iron bars, banging up my bruised ribs real good before I manage to push off and stalk around to face Bricks again.
“You die!” he bellows, the words slurred, and I wonder if he hit his head one too many times tonight. Or during his lifetime.
“Fuck you,” I hiss and wait for his next move.
Music starts in my mind. “You” by Bad Religion, a fast beat that matches my racing pulse. The crowd roars for blood and bangs on the bars.
Fuck them, too. I keep trying to catch sight of Nino, but Bricks roars again and despite the mess I’m in, I almost roll my eyes.
Idiot.
He charges, and making a split-second decision, I stay put. Duck to the left in the last moment, kick at his shins, fall.
Crack my head on the floor.
Who knew? You really do see stars when you bang your skull like that. A cheer goes up from the crowd, and I have a vision of Bricks beating me to bloody pulp.
No way. Meg. I need to find Meg, talk to her, hold her, kiss her. Convince her not to go.
I roll to the side as he kicks at me, and gasp when the kick connects with my back. Fuck. I keep rolling, dizzy, and scramble to my knees.
I shake my head to clear it, and that’s a motherfucking bad idea, because bile rises in my throat. Swallowing hard, I get to my feet, and barely make it there when Bricks is on me, punching me with huge, meaty fists.
The impact throws me backward, but I center myself, keep my balance, raise my guard. I block one, two, three punches, fall back, brace myself.
He’s crowding me into a corner. Need to move out.
I lift my fists, block yet another punch, step in and deliver a solid one to his solar plexus. I hear the breath going out of him as I turn and kick at his knee.
He stumbles backward, cursing, and I’m out of the corner. My only goal is to survive the fight and go after Nino. Bricks will win, I’m sure. He’s a seasoned veteran of the cage, and stupid or not, he’s got bulk and strength and skills.
Let me survive to find Meg.
Her face fills my mind as I consider my strategy. Her words ring in my ears, something about finding a balance between the past and the present.
“I love you…”
I dodge Brick’s right hook, block an uppercut and manage to get a kick in to his other knee. He barely falters, comes back delivering a flurry of punches. One catches me on the jaw, snapping my head around. Blood fills my mouth and I spit.
Christ.
Can’t stand and take hits without fighting back. I don’t think Bricks will stop hitting once I’m down. He’s solid, but he’s a bit slower than me, and his legs aren’t as strong as his upper body. I’ve always worked on getting my legs strong and my center of balance low so that I’m steady.
A matter of balance…
Block, block¸ turn and kick, fall back, advance and throw a right hook that never connects. Press on with an uppercut and a roundhouse kick that throws Bricks a step back.
Okay, think.
Has to be the legs. Go for the legs.
Only problem is getting through his guard. Hitting low is harder, though, so he’s not protecting them as much as his chest.
Footwork. Got it.
