51. Vance
VANCE
“Ladies and gentleman, this is the main event of the evening. And now it’s time!” The announcer stepped back and it was on.
I looked at the man they called The Boulder. Think of a knock off The Rock. He was shorter and uglier. That thought made me smile. I just went by my name. Vance Langston. I didn’t need a nickname for people to know I was a worthy opponent. I also trained with the infamous Tyson McNally.
“I see that woman over there. She’ll be sucking my cock when this is over.” The Boulder said under his breath. He knew exactly what buttons to push.
“I don’t think so.” I ground out.
“We’ll see about that.” The bell rang through the air and I ducked under his predictable right hook he’d throw. He always did that. Hoping to get ahead right away, which he rarely did.
I went for a body shot, he had a weak spot in his ribs on the right side. If I could strike him there a few times he’d be weakened pretty quickly.
I wrapped my arm around his thick core and ran his back to the corner, then brought my other fist up and punched him under his chin throwing his head back.
His coach was screeching behind him to do something.
I didn’t catch it because he was The Boulder for a reason.
He would just bowl you over, and he did.
He grabbed my gloved hand and struck me with the other and that was the first hit.
I had to knock him out. That was the only way this was going to end.
I hadn’t calculated any other way. “Fucker.” The boulder grit out as I nearly got him with an uppercut and I heard Tyson yell something behind me for missing.
The bell sounded for the first round to be over. That went by quickly. Eleven more rounds to go. But I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t last that long. I sat down in my corner and Tyson pressed ice to my chest. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I wasn’t necessarily winded right now, but I was worked up. Sweat poured from my forehead. The one shot the The Boulder did get was to my jaw, which hurt like a motherfucker. I got him twice over though.
“You're doing good.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Keep your eye on the prize.” He pointed to Addy, but I was looking at him. I’d made a name for myself and now I was ready to do something else. If I won this fight I’d be able to do that. I’d be able to be myself.
I stood up and Tyson gripped my shoulder again, “Try not to get too beat up. Okay?” I knew he was joking. By the time this was over there’s a good chance I’d at minimum have a busted nose.
I stood in the middle of the ring with the referee and The Boulder and he narrowed his eyes on me.
“That pretty girl out there will look really good underneath me.” He spat out before he went for that right hook again as his first move.
I weaved and came back up with a punch to his gut and he stumbled backwards.
“Vance.” Tyson barked. I knew what that meant. That meant to keep my attitude in check. This was about talent, not about attitude. But this motherfucker was pissing me off. No one talked about Addy like that.
He stood up and I reared back again, but he got me first. I couldn’t block fast enough, I quickly countered with a jab, cross then hook and the bell rang again. Now I was winded, but I got him good this time around. The bruises were quickly forming on his face and chest.
Ten rounds to go and I was ahead.