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“All done.” He gives him a black bag overflowing with wads of cash and nods. “Pleasure doing business with you, King.” Caden doesn’t reply; he just nods back.
The short man turns to me. “We’ll see you next week.” He climbs back into the other car, and they disappear into the distance again.
“And then you come for me.”
“I am not coming for you again!” I shout in exasperation.
He bites his lower lip before a huge smile spreads on his face. He shakes the bag at me. “I said you cometome, little Scott. To give me the cash.”
I feel my cheeks heating to the point that steam could evaporate into the cold air. I honestly thought he said comeforme, but I must have misheard.
“Whatever,” I spit before rounding my car.
Instead of getting in, he follows me, forcing the hair on my neck to stand.
“If you’re that desperate to come again, you just have to beg nicely,” he sniggers from behind me.
“You know what?” I turn around swiftly, and before he can take a step back, my fist flies to his cheek.
He stumbles back, dropping the bag and touching his cheek. “Fuck!”
“Does this look like I’m desperate for you to touch me again?”
I’m annoyed at myself for taking the risk of hurting my hand, but I feel fine, and my next fight is in a week. Plus, there’s nothing like seeing Caden King’s cheek swelling slightly as it bruises.
“Billie,” he teases as he straightens back up. His jaw moves from side to side as if checking it’s not broken. “You just propelled the sexual tension through the roof, baby.” He winks at me before grabbing the bag and putting it in the back seat. He walks back to his side of the car and climbs in, so I do the same.
“Fuck right off to hell, Caden,” I mumble as I start the car. “Seriously.”
He laughs heartily. “Can I take you with me?”
6
BILLIE
Take Me Away - New Medicine
Jab. Jab. Right hook.I take a step back, sliding to the side to avoid her attempt to hit me back. The bitch is almost done. I can see her jumping and shaking her arms, exhausted and trying to keep up.
She has no chance against me.
I give her a kick to the ribs, and she falls on her side. I can barely hear the crowd cheer, too focused on my chance to win.
Jumping on her, I sit on her hips and throw my fists at her face. Her arms come up to try and protect herself, but she’s done for. I put all I have into my punches. When she protects herself too well, I go for the ribs and the stomach.
Caden’s face comes to my mind, and I hit harder. I’m dying to take back control for what he did last week and two years ago. I just want to hurt someone else’s body as he hurt mine. I just want to force her to take what I have to give. I’m struggling to breathe. Raining punches on her is taking all the energy I have left, and if she doesn’t tap out soon, I’ll have used all my strength for no reason.
I hear Dickie shout something in the background. I think he’s telling me she’s not tapping out. But it’s too late now. I’ve come this far and need to dig up more energy and finish this. I hit her with a hook, somehow avoiding the arms in front of her face and getting her in the jaw. Blood spurts out of her mouth, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.
“End it!” Dickie roars. The girl’s coach follows with the same order to the ref. If he doesn’t end it now, she will get seriously injured. She’s unable to defend herself anymore, and he needs to call T.K.O.
Is it my problem, though? Absolutely fucking not. This bitch will take until I’m forced to stop.
It’s not until her arms fall to her side that the ref is on me. He pushes me off her and signals that the fight is over. Next thing, he kneels next to her, checking whether she is still conscious or not, but I don’t care anymore. The crowd’s cheers are bringing life back to my exhausted body and I get up, running around the cage and lifting my arms up to encourage them. I spit my mouthguard out and go to the side of the cage where Dickie is waiting for me. I climb up and bend over the edge as he takes me into a hug.
This is a shit cage. The crowd must be thirty people at best. The judges are sitting on broken plastic chairs, and the mic the announcer uses to inform us of the winner screeches into the air, rendering us all deaf for a few seconds. We’re in a worn-down gym with not much at all, and I know that even the changing rooms barely have any water pressure.
Yeah, it’s all shit, but it’s a win. And as I come down from the grill of the cage and go by the ref so he can announce the winner—perfectly knowing it’s me—I imagine the crowds of people who will cheer for me when I become a UFC fighter. I imagine the cameras flashing when I lift the belt high up in the air. I allow myself to escape the North Shore, to escape Silver Falls.
