The Aftermath (The Hurricane, #2)(4)
“It’s not the same, Con. You know that. Frank’s in prison, and Em has more bodyguards than Justin Bieber. You can do this. Stop worrying about what will happen when you lose everything and start getting mad at the f*ckers trying to take it from you. She’s right here and she yours. So what happens when someone messes with what’s yours?” he asked.
“I decimate the f*ckers,” I answered. He was right. I needed to get my head out of my arse. I was hard as f*cking nails and no one was f*cking with my girl.
“What happens if some guy wolf whistles or tries to grab her arse tonight?” he goaded.
“I’ll decimate the f*cker,” I told him more forcefully, feeling the adrenaline starting to kick in.
“And what happens,” he said finally, “if someone tried to take her?”
“I. WILL. FUCKING. DECIMATE. THEM.” I enunciated slowly, completely pumped now.
“Thatta boy,” he replied with a smile. “He’s ready,” he said to Danny, who’d swapped places with Kieran to put on my gloves. My knee was bouncing, and I was impatient to get out of there. Pumped and primed, I wanted to hurt someone. The second he was done, I jumped up from the bench and started going at the pads with Kier. Cross, cross, jab. Cross, cross, jab. I cleared my mind of everything but the pads. How to move my body to land the perfect punch was instinctive. Years of relentless training did that. There wasn’t a how or a why when I fought. The only thing that concerned me about the guy I was fighting was where to land my fist to cause the maximum pain. But this time was different. This time my opponent had a face, and it was Frank’s. It burned me that, with everything that went down, I hadn’t had the chance to lay a fist on him. I was a valve with no release, and if I didn’t vent that rage and fear soon, I was going to explode, and there’d be casualties in the wake. Danny watched me spar and didn’t look happy. As far as he was concerned, getting in the ring carrying any kind of baggage was a bad f*cking idea. It was why he made us go to church before a fight. Inside those ropes I was supposed to be an emotionless machine and I hadn’t been that in a long time. One of the management team opened my door. “Con, it’s time,” he told me.
Kieran held out my robe, and I stopped bouncing just long enough to slip it on. Danny opened the door and cringed as my music pumped loudly through the speakers. Fort Minor’s “Remember the Name” didn’t do it for him at all, but Kieran had picked it years ago, and it sort of stuck. The bass was making my blood pump and I strutted out of the room like I was invincible.
“You ready?” Kieran asked.
“Hell, yeah,” I replied. I burned with the need to hurt someone, and the thought of releasing all that rage on Rico Temple got my blood pumping.
“I hate that cocky little shit as much as you do,” Kieran admitted. “But fight smart. Don’t just go barreling in there trying to hurt him. He’s got a lot more fights under his belt than you do, so you need to think about how you’re gonna do this,” he told me. I rolled my eyes, not really caring about his advice. Making him bleed was all I could think about. Danny reached up to grab my chin and turned my face so that I was staring straight at him. It took some effort given our height difference.
He looked more pissed off than I’d seen him in a long time. “I’m your coach, and Kieran’s your corner man. That means you listen to what we have to say. If you don’t fight smart like Kieran said, this guy’s gonna walk all over you. Now I want you to fight the first three rounds defensively. Keep your guard up and wear him down. Round four or five, when he’s up on points, you let him have it. Then take him by surprise when he thinks you’re done.” I nodded my head as I bounced. I knew he was right but I struggled with the craving to hurt someone. “And for f*ck’s sake, don’t knock him out. This is an exhibition match. Anything more than heavy sparring and you’ll be disqualified.”
“Sure thing,” I answered as I shifted my weight from foot to foot. Then it was time. At the sign from the management guy, I jogged slowly toward the spotlight.
As I reached the ring, I climbed in through the ropes, with Kieran and Danny right behind me. Kieran helped me off with my robe, and I looked past him, anxious for Temple to join me.
Even standing in this ring was cathartic. In a few minutes, I’d be able to unleash all my hatred in the name of sportsmanship, and what’s left of me after belonged to my girl. My music ended as his began, and I snorted. He’d chosen some stupid rap shit and was strutting toward me like he had the fight sewn up. He hadn’t fought with me yet. I was gonna knock the cocky right out of him, and he’d kiss the canvas in gratitude for the lesson. I bounced around shaking out my arms and looking like I hadn’t got a care in the world. Rico Temple was nothing to me. I had enough inside to take down ten of him with how I was feeling. Danny smacked my abs to draw my attention and shoved my gum shield into my mouth.
“Stick to the plan, keep your guard up and pick your punches. You ready?” he asked. I nodded at him but my mind was already on Temple. Squeezing my shoulder reassuringly, he climbed out of the ring. The referee called us to the center, and the self-assured smirk on Rico’s face was already pissing me off.
“Gentleman, when I say ‘break’ I want a clean break. In the event of a knockdown, you will be directed to go to a neutral corner. You’re both professionals so I expect a good, clean fight. No hitting below the belt, and protect yourself at all times. Okay, touch gloves and come out at the bell.”