Wrath

by LJ Baker

  Ronnie smiled at Penelope and dodged another punch. “I think I’ll stay over here, but thank you.”

  Her eyes fell on Luc, his expression unreadable. He was dressed in an expensive, perfectly tailored suit, completely out of place with the twenty-somethings, who probably picked up whatever t-shirt was laying on their floor right before they left. He was different, unique, and the only person she wanted to see.

  For just that one second, her attention was lost and her face met Penelope’s large fist.

  Dammit.

  She stumbled back, seeing stars, but stayed on her feet. She had another minute left in the round to get through. She just had to stay out of the way for sixty short seconds more. Or long seconds, depending on how you looked at it. The second round was all she needed to cover bills for the week.

  Win, or lose.

  Ronnie wasn’t the type to be distracted by a man and knowing that Luc had that effect on her only pissed her off more. She used the added anger to fuel her attack as she readied herself, but before she could pounce, she was knocked off balance.

  Whack.

  Penelope got her in the side of the head and she hit the cage with her face. Luc frowned and she felt his disappointment settle over her like a thick mist. That was all she needed. Not that what this guy thought meant anything to her. Except when she saw the corners of his mouth go down, it did. But it was the last bit of motivation that she needed.

  Ronnie jumped out of the way, missing Penelope’s next punch and spun around, landing on the woman's back. She punched wildly, head, back, kidneys, anywhere she could make contact before the giant tossed her off. Penelope managed to fling her to the mat and fell on top of her, landing punch after punch to Ronnie’s face.

  An iron tang coated her tongue and ran down the back of her throat. Ronnie was no stranger to the taste of her own blood. Once she’d swallowed so much she thought she was going to choke to death on it. That wouldn't happen tonight.

  Penelope was tough, but Ronnie was scrappy. She flipped her over and took charge of the punches. Penelope was spending more time shielding herself, than punching at that point, which was good. Ronnie split the girl’s mouth open and her blood splattered across the mat mixing with the splatters already left by Ronnie.

  There was something about the red of the blood that fueled her on. On some basic level, Ronnie understood the instinct of a bull and how it reacted to the color. She wanted to see more, punch harder, destroy. The raw animalistic power deep in her soul clawed its way out.

  With each punch, her rage grew, fusing with each cell in her body. It was as if she was split in two, the one fighting a mere ghost, only intent on causing pain. Hitting. Punching. Annihilating. Everything around her went dark. All she could see were her fists flying down in front of her. Singularly focused in on what her body was doing, Ronnie’s mind shut down. It wasn’t the first time she’d been lost in rage, and it likely wouldn’t be the last, but for the fight, it was exactly what she needed.

  The crowd screamed in a deafening roar around her and she almost didn’t hear the buzzer. Even if she had picked up on the sound, she was too far gone to register it. It took Lizzie pulling her off to bring her back to reality. It was probably more the stark white color of her friend’s face that really got Ronnie’s attention. There was little else that could have brought her back.

  “Hey, come back to me. The round is over.” Lizzie grabbed Ronnie’s wrists and tried to keep from being hit. She was unsuccessful and took a hard shot to the cheek. Another few seconds and Ronnie would have been disqualified and not made a cent.

  Ronnie looked up at Lizzie and shook her head a few times. When her mind cleared, she snapped her neck back to find Luc, but he wasn’t there. She searched the crowd. He was gone. She started to think she’d imagined him from the start.

  “You okay?” She pried up Ronnie’s eyelids and shined an obnoxious light into her pupils. Lizzie’s cheek was already starting to swell and turn purple, but Ronnie only barely registered the difference.

  “I’m fine. Quit it.” Ronnie pushed her friend off and grabbed her water bottle from Lizzie’s pocket. She had another two minutes to pull her shit together and prepare to get her ass kicked all over again.

  Penelope was in her corner fuming. Ronnie was pretty sure she could see smoke coming from the woman’s ears as she prepared herself for the kill. Angry could be good. She might make a stupid mistake. Of course it also came along with an adrenaline rush that may make her go all out batshit crazy.

  “The best thing you can do is go down on the first punch when you get back in there. Just give it up. You can’t win this. Be realistic. She’s going to hurt you, bad.” The distraught look in Lizzie’s eyes went unnoticed by Ronnie. All she wanted was back in the fight. The buzz running down her arms into her fists drowned out the pain. No matter how bad she might look on the outside, she was ready for more.

  “I’m fine.”

  Lizzie grabbed her shoulders and shook her until they made eye contact. “Are you joking? Someone is going to get seriously hurt out there. Between the sheer size of her and the way you went after her like a rabid coyote, someone is going to be injured.”

  “Yeah, her.” Ronnie spit blood onto the mat, then took another gulp of water, swished it around her mouth, and swallowed.

  “No, not her. You, Ronnie. You’ve lost it.”

  “I’m okay. I promise.”

  “You aren’t taking this seriously. You scared me out there.” Lizzie wiped sweat off her forehead and slumped her back against the cage. “That was the worst you’ve lost it, like ever.”

  “You’re overreacting. It’s a fight. We aren’t playing patty-cake.”

  “If you saw the look in your eyes, pure rage, like you wanted to rip her arms off and shove them up her ass, you’d understand. Even for you, it was bad.”

  “I just need to get through this fight. After that, you can give me the lecture, okay?” Ronnie held her fist up and waited for Lizzie to relent and tap it with her own. After a pause and a sigh, Lizzie did just that.

  “Hey, did you see a dark haired guy watching? Up close by the cage, looking right at me?”

  “Are you kidding? There are people everywhere. Are you expecting some guy? Is that why you’re so distracted?”

  “I am not distracted.”

  “Yes. You are. Besides the fact that you are going to get yourself killed out there, why do you think I want you to throw the rest of the match?”

  “Because you bet against me and will win a wad of money?”

  “I don’t give a shit about the money. I don’t want you to end up in the ICU again.”

  “It was one time.” Ronnie waved Lizzie off as she stared at her with her mouth dropped open.

  The warning buzzer sounded and she returned to her place in the middle of the mat. Penelope was smiling at her again around her mouth guard like a feral animal. Ronnie was pretty sure she growled at her at least once and drool dripped from her lips making her look rabid.

  Shit.

  Maybe Lizzie was right. She might be in trouble. There were some fighters that could fake crazy face to psych their opponent out. That wasn't this. Penelope couldn't be faking that well. The chick was definitely off balance.

  Maybe she should trust her friend and should just go down on the first punch, pretend to be unconscious. She’d probably get hit a few more times, but at least then it would be over. She had next to no chance to win, so getting out of there with the least amount of injuries might be the best idea.

  The buzzer sounded and the women tapped fists before the round began. Penelope tapped so hard it almost knocked Ronnie off balance. It was meant to be intimidating, but it pissed Ronnie off.

  Ronnie tried to take Lizzie’s advice, letting Penelope pop her right in the mouth. She went down, flat on the mat, and Penelope followed her down to pound the fuck out of her face. Somewhere between the third and fourth punch, and when the ref was about to call it, the fury took over once again.
>
  In her mind, Ronnie saw the photos from her parents accident, the mangled mess of their car, her mother’s shoe bloody and sitting alone in the middle of the street. She watched the images of her distraught siblings huddled together when she walked into the house, knowing she was forever responsible for each of them. She felt her own life slip away from her. Everything she ever cared about or knew, gone. Her life, forever changed.

  Even though Ronnie knew she was being hit, she felt none of it. It was as if she was completely numb to the pain for a good minute as the rage built. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew things were going south, but she didn't even try to stop it. She welcomed it.

  Ronnie flipped the bitch off her and started pounding into her liver. Her face was ugly enough, so she ignored there. She was looking for damage. All thoughts of right and wrong left her as she concentrated her strength into Penelope’s left side. Ronnie didn’t even try to block the blows to her own head. Each one became weaker as Penelope groaned from the liver blows.

  A hot trickle of blood streamed down the side of Ronnie’s face and dripped past her lips. She reached out with her tongue and swiped a quick taste of the irony liquid. She smiled. Not the most sane thing to do when tasting your own blood as it flows from your own face, but nothing about continuing this fight was sane.

  For a quick moment, Ronnie thought she actually had a fair shot at winning, then Penelope kneed her to the crotch and flipped her onto her back. It was all downhill from there.

  The girl was strong. Ronnie had to give her credit. It wasn’t just the size of her. She had the brutal strength to back it all up. She might not have had the brains to go with the brawn, but she knew enough to take control and get the better of Ronnie.

  Blow after blow, Penelope punched. All Ronnie could do was keep her fists up over her face to block more head shots. The dizziness was already starting and she knew that wasn’t ever good. Unfortunately, the numbness from her crazy second wind was fading, and every shot hurt worse than the last.

  It was good to have feeling back again though and Ronnie welcomed the pain. It washed away the bad and brought the sole focus to the here and now. Everything wrong in her life disappeared, replaced with physical pain, instead of emotional pain. She knew how to deal with that. She relaxed her body, accepting the blows as a cathartic warming spread over her. As long as she kept her head protected, everything would be all right. At least that was what she was telling herself.

  Two punches to the face later and everything went black.

  ***

  “Are you sure about this, Ronnie? That chick is like six-three and has a hundred pounds on you.” Lizzie taped up Ronnie’s hands and readied her to face the giant Amazonian woman glaring at her from across the ring. “She is going to kill you.”

  The woman punched her fist into her palm and smiled right at Ronnie.

  “Nah. Maybe break a few bones, but when has that ever made me back down?” Ronnie finished braiding both sides and swirled it into a bun so she couldn’t be swung around by her hair. She’d left it down once and learned her lesson.

  Long hair for a fighter was asking for trouble. She had to at least make an effort to keep it secured because there was no way she was cutting it off. Most fighters kept their hair cropped short, but Ronnie was attached to hers. It made her look like a younger version of her mother and she wasn't ready to give that up.

  Maybe she should have worn it that way for her job interview. It covered the blue streaks perfectly. Not that she was too broken up over not having to see that asshole five days a week. She needed the money, sure, but she had to keep a little of her dignity.

  Lizzie helped pin Ronnie’s hair back and keep it from falling out before the fight was over. Ronnie knew she wasn’t expecting it to go too long. Not that she blamed her for her lack of confidence. Ronnie wasn’t delusional. She knew what she was getting into.

  “You want your ass kicked, don’t you?” Lizzie huffed and looked over her friend.

  “Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?”

  “Because that’s what you do. It's how you deal with stress. Ever since you were a kid, you would pick fights with the biggest kid you could find, knowing you couldn’t win, then get the shit kicked out of you.”

  “I do not.”

  “You do. Look, I realize these last few months have been tough on you. With your parents death and having to leave school, plus having three bratty kids dumped in your lap, I can’t even imagine how you’re coping. But you don’t need to let this bitch fuck up your face to let off some steam. Your face is nice. Let's keep it that way. Go out, get drunk, and pick up a random hot guy, like everyone else does.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Ronnie rolled her eyes and hopped down off the bench to shake out her arms and stretch her legs. “Anyway, I’m doing this for the money. I thought you understood that.”

  “That was before. I thought you got a job? Why are you still doing this shit?”

  “I did. Waitressing. That isn’t going to pay the bills and keep three kids clothed and fed. My parents struggled to manage with both of them working. I’m on my own and over the last six months, I’ve blown through most of the life insurance. You know I need this gig. Now have a little faith in me, Liz. If you don’t believe I can win, who will?”

  “No one. Have you seen the bets against you? It’s like ten to one and I think that’s only because some people felt bad for you.”

  “Who did you bet on?” Ronnie raised a brow, already knowing the answer.

  “Amazon chick of course.” Lizzie snorted and handed Ronnie her mouth guard. “I know what you can and can’t handle. I might as well make some cash off it.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Who’s watching the kids tonight?”Liz peeked around the corner to the ring and shook her head.

  “Mae is in charge, but apparently she has been sneaking out after I leave. Freddy ratted her out this morning as we were about the leave. Then he told me I should punish her, because that's what our mother would have done. You should have seen the look on his face. The disappointed frown was a mirror image of dad.”

  “Good thing Jen is responsible. Maybe the little runt is right and you should punish her?”

  “Oh yeah. I’ll just bring her here every week to keep an eye on her. Look little sis, come watch me punch the shit out of another girl so I can support you and your bratty, ungrateful brother and sister. Then I can bring her to hang out at the bar the rest of the week for good measure. Great teaching moment.”

  “Bringing her to work is not the only way to punish her.”

  “No, but how am I supposed to enforce anything if I’m not around? What is going to stop her from sneaking out while I’m gone when she’s punished, any more than when she’s not?”

  They walked out to the ring, ignoring the screams and calls from the crowd. They were a little more rowdy than usual, but Ronnie didn't care. As long as she got paid, they could act like animals all night long.

  The place smelled of sweat and cigarette smoke, enough to make the strongest of stomaches turn. Ronnie climbed over the ropes across the cage entrance to take her seat in the corner and did her best to block out the noise.

  Lizzie wasn’t done with her lecture about the fights. She knew her well enough to know it wouldn’t be dropped so easy. But it wasn’t like she had much choice. She wasn’t going to let her siblings go to foster care and they couldn’t live on the street. She needed cash.

  The buzzer sounded, signaling the one minute warning. The cage door was slammed shut and both fighters jumped up to take their place. Lizzie waited outside the ring to wait for the round to end.

  Close up, Ronnie got a better look at the arms on the other chick. She had better do a decent job dodging or she’d be knocked out in the first round. And since first round KO’s paid less, she needed to hang in for as long as possible.

  The Amazonian, whose name was apparently Penelope of all things, bounced on
her feet, shaking her arms out. She was ready to pounce the second the buzzer sounded again, and for a brief flash, Ronnie felt a flood of nerves. She looked out into the crowd for Lizzie, or anyone else that might be familiar, but the place was dark and all the faces blended together.

  It wasn’t until Joe, the frat boy who ran the fights, started introducing them, that she noticed one face that stood out. Pushing to the front row, face only inches from the cage, his dark eyes found hers. His mouth came up into a crooked smile as she recognized him from earlier that day and she felt her body heat.

  Luc.

  Just a split second before the buzzer sounded, he mouthed “Go,” at her and she snapped her head back to her opponent. The round started and Penelope lunged at her. She got out of the way just in time, but stumbled over her own feet, landing on the mat hard on her hip. Ronnie never claimed to be the most coordinated fighter, but at least she knew how to take a hit.

  Not wasting the opportunity, Penelope threw herself down, intending to land smack on top of Ronnie, but she rolled out of the way, narrowly missing the giant. The best strategy was to stay out of her reach. At least until she tired out a bit.

  The stench of sweat and beer filled the room. It was the same every week. It didn't matter where the fights were held. The venue was irrelevant. All that mattered was the two fighters, face to face, ready for pain. Whether it was inflicting, or receiving, there was little difference.

  Since the only rule to these underground fights was to stop when the buzzer sounded, it was pretty much anything goes. Ronnie had seen girls leave in an ambulance before, never to return to the matches, and she didn’t want to be next.

  She couldn’t afford to be next.

  “Come closer you little bitch. Let’s see if you can take a punch.” Penelope snarled around her mouth guard as drool dripped down from the corners of her lips.

  Ronnie smiled at Penelope and dodged another punch. “I think I’ll stay over here, but thank you.”

  Her eyes fell on Luc, his expression unreadable. He was dressed in his typical perfect suit, completely out of place with the twenty-somethings, who probably picked up whatever t-shirt was laying on their floor right before they left. He was different, unique, and the only person she wanted to see.