by Jinx, Hondo
It was too much for Johnny.
He exploded inside her, his whole body convulsing as he pumped jet after jet of hot seed deep inside the love of his life.
Chapter 55
“Johnny!” Paul and Annabelle chorused. “You did it!”
Johnny blinked at them, confused. “Wait, I’m asleep?”
“Yeah,” Annabelle said. “You two were hugging and kissing and whispering how much you loved each other, and you both just drifted off.”
“Thank you for finally having sex with her!” Paul said.
“Shut the fuck up, Paul,” Johnny said.
Paul shrugged. “Hey, I’m just happy for you, buddy. Happy for all of us. The Vicarus boards are blowing up. You’re the hottest thing right now. Your riders loved getting revenge on that cocky asshole, and then bam! Sex with Freddie!”
“As soon as you won your fight,” Annabelle chimed in, “we had a big spike in subscribers.”
“A lot of people were waiting to see if you’d win,” Paul said. “I don’t get it. Where’s the thrill in that? But hey, they subscribed, so I love them.”
Annabelle nodded. “And now that you and Freddie have made love, wow… people are going nuts. We cracked the top 1000 and are still rising. This is huge, Johnny, huge!”
He shrugged. “I’m happy. I worked hard to beat Stevenson, and I really love Freddie.”
“I know you do,” Annabelle said with a smile. “And your riders know you do, too. And that makes all the difference. Authenticity, real emotion, real life, struggling, winning… these are your brand, Johnny.”
He shrugged again. “Whatever you say.”
“Go ahead and act all cool about it now,” Paul said. “Wait till you see the credits!”
“Welcome back, sir,” Fiona’s voice said a few moments later, when Johnny had returned once more to the Vicarus Rewards Store. “Congratulations on your victories.”
“Thanks, Fiona.”
“Your current balance is a remarkable 3000 Vicarus credits.”
Johnny thrust his fists overhead as if he had won another victory. Which, in a sense, he had. All this work, all this struggle—and, of course, some super awesome quality time with Freddie—had led him to this huge moment.
“You have earned new options today, sir. One, if my female intuition serves me well, will likely please you a great deal.”
“Sounds good,” Johnny said, “but I know where I want to start. Take me to the Residential subcategory. Life is more than just fighting, and I want to build a better life. Not just for me, either.”
“As I assumed, sir,” Fiona said, sounding pleased.
As soon as the screen displayed his Residential choices, Johnny selected Nice, 2-bedroom motel suite, one year rental: 500 Vicarus credits.
“An outstanding value, sir. Where to next?”
“Is there anything new that will help me more than improving my juice stats?”
“No, sir. Not as far as fighting goes.”
“All right, then. Let’s boost my juice.”
“A wise path, sir. And before you ask, here are your current statistics.”
* * *
Fighter: Johnny Rockledge
Age: 21
Height: 6’0”
Weight: 174 pounds
Reach: 76 inches
Total Juice: 533
Total Juice minus Heart: 433
Agility: 63
Chin: 82
Endurance: 71
Heart: 100
Power: 78
Speed: 69
Strength: 70
* * *
Johnny thought for a while, running different boost configurations through his mind.
He had beaten Stevenson but reckoned he hadn’t seen the last of him. Part of his edge this time had been Stevenson’s low opinion of him.
If Stevenson was half the fighter Johnny suspected he was, he’d come back, train harder than ever, and put together a new strategy to beat Johnny.
Whatever the case, Johnny needed to win the City Championship in three months. Between now and then, he would fight three more novice bouts, along with several smokers. And in between, he’d be training and sparring in the gym.
He had no idea who his opponents would be, but it was a safe bet that some would challenge him in new ways, each bringing their own strengths and riddles to the fight.
And the farther he went, the harder his opposition would grow.
So his first thought was to lift his lagging stats.
“Bring my agility and speed up to 70.”
“Yes, sir. Your balance is now 1700 Vicarus credits.”
He felt confident, boosting his agility and speed up that high. Now, all of his stats were 70 or higher.
He knew he wanted to hold back 500 credits, so that left 1200 to spend now.
12 stat points to divvy out.
Looking ahead, it was anybody’s guess where he should put those points. It was really impossible to say because he didn’t know his future opponents or the problems they would present.
So he decided to go with the great equalizer…
“Every boxer’s a slugger at heart, Fiona. Boost my power by 12 points.”
“How exciting, sir,” Fiona purred. “With a power stat of 90, you’ll be one of the hardest-hitting light heavyweights in the world.”
His balance dropped, and his muscles grew twitchy with crackling force.
Maybe it would’ve been smarter to split up his points more evenly, but Johnny grinned like a maniac. 90 power. At 175 pounds, he would be punching nearly as hard as Tyson or Foreman back on Earth.
Yeah, he might have a hard time landing shots on some fighters, but if he touched them…
This was going to be awesome.
And he could all but hear his riders cheering.
“How would you like to spend your remaining credits, sir?”
Johnny frowned at the 500-credit balance. “I guess I’ll convert it all to cash, just in case. Unless you know how much I need to hold back to buy what I’m going to buy.”
“Which is?”
He told her.
Fiona laughed with delight. “My feminine intuition served me well, then. No need to hold back cash, sir. Do you remember my saying I thought one new choice would please you?”
She switched to that screen.
Johnny beamed. “You were right, Fiona. This pleases me very much.”
“Excellent. If I may be so bold, sir, you have sufficient credits to buy two.”
“Two? I only need one. With the remaining credits, I’ll boost my speed by two more points and turn the last 50 into cash.”
“Yes, sir. Congratulations to you both—and good luck!”
Chapter 56
“This is awesome,” Johnny said. He was three beers in and kicked back in a corner booth at The Hawk, sandwiched between Freddie and Lennie, and finally petting the three-legged lab, Stella, who was soaking up every second of it. Marvella hadn’t shown up yet.
“You’re a hit, Johnny,” Freddie said, gesturing around the packed bar. It seemed like the whole Ward had shown up to voice their congratulations. “Next time you fight, a whole lot of people are gonna buy tickets.”
Freddie looked gorgeous. She practically glowed with happiness.
They had awakened at the same second, showered together, made love again, then gone over to her place to tell her mom the good news about Johnny’s fight.
Mrs. Lopez had clapped her hands and shrieked for joy and wrapped him up in a fierce embrace. “I’m so proud of you, Johnny!”
Then, when Freddie went into her room to change into the simple yet lovely yellow sundress she now wore, Johnny told Mrs. Lopez his plan.
She wept, smiling and nodding, and hugged him again, then wept all the harder when he went out onto the balcony to ask Mr. Lopez.
She watched from the sliding glass door as Johnny shook Mr. Lopez’s limp hand and crouched down in front of the staring, slack-mouthed man, explained his intent
ions, and asked for his blessing.
And then, for the first time, Mr. Lopez dragged his eyes back from that far place, looked Johnny directly in the eyes, and nodded.
Now, sitting here beside the woman he loved, Johnny felt nervous in a way he never felt before a fight.
Nervous but happy.
Very, very happy.
Lennie leaned past him and flicked her gaze between Johnny’s eyes and Freddie’s. “You two did it.”
Freddie grinned. “Did what?”
Lennie narrowed her eyes and pointed at her sister. “You know what you did. It.”
Johnny laughed. “What are you, five?”
“You did!” Lennie said. “You two did the deed. Don’t lie to me, sis. Twins share everything. Tell the truth!”
Laughing, Freddie nodded. “We did. Twice!”
“Slut!” Lennie laughed. “Slut! Slut! Slut! And you…” She punched Johnny in the arm. “How dare you deflower my sister?”
Johnny shrugged and put an arm around Freddie. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Freddie nodded. “You wish! It’s kinda true, though.”
Lennie laughed and hugged them, kissing their cheeks. “I’m so happy for you both. I love you guys.”
“We love you, too, Lennie,” Freddie said.
Johnny nodded.
“Well, sit tight,” Lennie said rising from her seat. “This round’s on me. A formal congratulations to you both. This is a big night!”
You have no idea, Johnny thought. Not yet, anyway.
He slipped one hand into his pocket, but before he could do what he planned to do, a familiar woman stepped through the crowd and came straight at him.
“Johnny Rockledge,” Phyllis Fischer said. “A moment of your time, please.”
Johnny wanted to tell the Fight Town Tribune reporter to get lost. But remembering what Freddie had said about newspapers helping to build careers, he shrugged. “Sure, Phyllis. What can I do for you?”
“Good news really must travel fast,” Freddie said. “You want to interview the Ward’s newest undefeated fighter?”
“Oh,” Phyllis said, looking vaguely confused. “That’s what all of this is about? Congratulations. Win a couple more, and I’ll do a piece on you, okay? On your fighting, I mean. But no, that’s not why I tracked you down today.”
“What is it, then?” Johnny asked.
“The Exhibitionist left another masterpiece in Fight Town again this morning. In the Ward again, actually. That’s three in a row. A painting this time. Life-sized. Breathtaking in its detail.”
Johnny spread his hands. “Okay, that’s cool. But why do you want to talk to me? I don’t know anything more about the Exhibitionist than Stella here knows.”
“No?” Phyllis said dubiously. “Then explain this.”
The reporter pulled a photo from her purse and held it out to them.
Freddie gasped.
Even reduced to the size of a small photo, the painting retained incredible detail. It showed a victorious boxer standing at the center of the ring with his fists raised overhead.
But not just any boxer…
“Holy shit, Johnny,” Freddie said. “That’s you.”
Johnny shrugged. “Weird. It does look a little like me.”
Phyllis made a face. “Oh please. Spare me the innocent routine. That’s you, Johnny. No two ways about it. You were at the site of the last two discoveries, and now you’re the subject of the latest masterpiece. So tell me, Johnny, who is the Exhibitionist?”
Puzzled, Johnny raised his hands. “I have no clue. That’s the truth.”
Phyllis kept after him until Lennie came back and flipped over the pic. “How cool is that?” she said, handing Freddie and Johnny their beers.
Phyllis frowned. “Against all odds, I believe you, Johnny. But if anything changes, even if you have a hunch, please contact me night or day.”
She handed him her business card and left.
“What a frigging day, huh?” Lennie said, and hoisted her beer into the air. “To Johnny!”
All around them, people picked up on the moment, and the toast of “To Johnny!” echoed across the bar, everyone drinking to him.
After the moment had passed, Johnny put his beer down and stuck his hand back into his pocket. He’d planned to do this while he was alone with Freddie—well, at least while Lennie was off getting drinks—but he was so excited, he couldn’t wait another minute.
Besides, like the girls said, twins share everything. So why not let Lennie watch?
“Freddie,” he said. “These last few months have been the happiest of my life.”
Freddie beamed. “Same, babe.”
“Ugh,” Lennie said. “You two are so cute, I’m gonna puke.”
“I love you, Freddie,” Johnny continued. “I’m crazy about you. And I meant everything I said to you. I want to keep pushing each other, keep supporting each other, all the way to the top, until we’re both professional world champions.”
Freddie nodded. “I love you, too, Johnny. And I want the same thing. Like I said, I’m all in—forever.”
“Me, too,” Johnny said. “Which is why…”
Pulling his hand from his pocket, he lowered onto one knee.
Freddie’s mouth dropped wide open. Eyes wide, she clapped her hands to her face, staring down at him and smiling in obvious shock.
“Oh my goodness!” Lennie shrieked, hugging her sister.
Meanwhile, Stella was breathing right beside his ear. Which was odd. He’d never planned on proposing with a three-legged lab panting in his face, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him.
Nothing could stop him now.
Johnny opened the little black box, revealing the sparkling diamond engagement ring inside.
Freddie wept. Lennie hugged her, sobbing.
He smiled up at Freddie, his heart close to bursting with love, and struggled to tamp down the lump in his throat. Finally, his voice thick with emotion, he said, “Fearless Freddie Lopez, will you marry me?”
Freddie nodded, sobbing and laughing all at same time. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, Johnny, I would love to marry you!”
She came out of her seat and pulled him up into her arms, and they kissed, hugging each other close while the crowd around them cheered, the Ward putting voice to their elation.
Thank you for reading Fight Town!
Johnny’s adventures continue in Fight Town 2.
If you enjoyed Fight Town, please be a friend and leave a review. When you leave a review, even a short one, you just bought my family dinner, because Amazon will show the book to more people. Thanks for your time and help.
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Until then, keep your hands up, chin down, and ass off the floor.
Afterword
Hello, fellow savage.
Fight Town all started when James Farler, a reader who knew I used to box and train fighters, suggested I write a Western cultivation story about boxing.
I thought it was a cool idea and had always wanted to write a boxing book, but I was eyeballs-deep in Wrangler and couldn’t give it much thought at the moment.
Around the same time, Will Arand gave me some great advice about pushing myself in new directions while continuing to write what I love—namely, harem lit stories featuring tough yet compassionate main characters.
Also around that time, the brilliant Andrea Parsneau helped me reexamine things I’d written and things I wanted to write, all with an eye toward bringing to life great characters.
Meanwhile, I wanted to shake things up. In 2020 and 2021, I’d read a few fantastic, low-key, stran
gely compelling books—Nathan Lowell’s The Magician’s Butler and Daniel Schinhofen’s Aether’s Revival series. These books surprised me in the best possible way, relaxing me yet forcing me to turn pages late into the night.
After writing fourteen sweeping, fast-paced, power sagas, I wanted to try something new, something I hoped would transport readers the way I’d been transported by Lowell’s and Schinhofen’s books.
So Fight Town arose out of these suggestions, conversations, readings, and many hours of personal musing.
Before I go any further, I want to thank my friends James Farler, Will Arand, Andrea Parsneau, and Daniel Schinhofen for their advice and inspiration, and to nod vaguely in the direction of Nathan Lowell, whom I don’t know but who influenced me nonetheless.
I should also thank my friends Ken Lozito, Craig DiLouie, and another friend from Ohio who’s so paranoid he’d shriek with cowardly hysteria if even dropped his initials here. The fact that I even mentioned Ohio probably already has him clutching his pearls and whimpering. Chill out, dude. There are nearly 12 million people in Ohio.
Thanks, all three of you, for helping me sort this one out.
A big thanks to my friend and editor Karen Leonard Bennett. This is our 15th book together. Crazy, right? Anyhow, thanks for your friendship, your absolute wizardry, and for helping me to disguise what a total dumbass I really am.
One gem that Karen caught in Fight Town: “He gave them the number, and they spit up.”
I had intended for them, of course, to “split up.”
Quite a different message if Trongo’s room number made Johnny and Freddie puke.
Thanks also to Michael-Scott Earle, who pushed me to try a new cover artist, and the absolutely fantastic Yanai Draws, who brought Freddie so vividly to life.
While I’m thanking people, I should also say thanks to ARC readers Rich Post and Denny Johnson, and Kal Adin, who runs a Hondo Jinx group on Facebook, and all of the glorious savages who share thoughts, questions, reading suggestions, and memes there.