Bucking Bear (Pounding Hearts #3)

by Izzy Sweet

  “Are you ready?” the referee asks.

  I nod my head. It’s a chore to even do that, even my neck muscles are tight.

  “Are you ready?” he asks Marcellus.

  After receiving a nod, he looks to us both.

  Time slows for me as the ref raises his hand.

  This is the time and the moment. I must allow myself to live right now in this moment. No past or future. Right here, right now.

  The ref’s hand chops down as he says, “Let’s fight.”

  I stand there a long moment, staring at Marcellus.

  He doesn’t move either, this isn’t usual for me. He must have thought I would come charging across the ring. I don’t, not this time.

  I take two steps and then begin to circle around.

  Marcellus takes this in stride as he takes long loping steps towards me. His hands are up and he bobs slightly as he slowly circles around the cage.

  The crowd around us must be confused at first because this isn’t how either of our fights normally go.

  We work our way closer together to the middle of the ring.

  He flashes out a foot toward my leg. I bring my leg up to block with a calf. I succeed in that but eat a punch to the chin.

  Just like that my head is cloudy.

  He wraps up with me for a second, trying to hold onto me to throw punches as my head.

  Throwing up my hands, I block two blows before I bring a knee up to his leg. I must have got a good hit because he pulls back.

  Shaking my head, I take a couple steps back.

  He pursues after me but I kick out when he comes close. He skips back but starts the circle with me.

  That fucking shot to my chin rung my bell. He could have got me if he had been smarter. Thank fuck he wasn’t.

  I circle around the ring a couple of more times with him.

  I can hear the crowd booing us.

  This isn’t the normal fight for either of us and they are right. This isn’t me. This isn’t how I fight.

  I switch it up and walk straight for him.

  This time I come in first for a feint punch to his left then swing out a kick to his thigh.

  Leaning forward, I swing again and connect with the side of his head. Not much damage but he shakes his head like I did.

  There, now we are both sure it’s going to hurt.

  We go back to circling and I can’t seem to find the right rhythm for the fight. This isn’t my game plan; this isn’t fucking me!

  But it’s fucking Carson I keep thinking about. Carson hurting my loves. I can’t keep my head in the game and it’s a fucking miracle Marcellus isn’t able to take advantage of it.

  The bell sounds ending the round and I walk back to my side.

  “What the fuck was that, you fucking jackass?” Dale asks me as I sit down.

  He is kneeling in front of me with a wide-eyed look of disgust.

  Shaking my head, I don’t say anything. I have no clue what the fuck to say.

  “What? You want to go over there and hold holds with him? You suddenly turn into a peace loving hippy? Violence never solves anything, right?”

  He’s trying to rile me up but it isn’t working.

  He stands up from me, and as he is walking away he growls, “You go tell that to the little girl with skinned knees who thinks you are some kind of fighter. Ya fucking pussy.”

  I am off my stool in a heartbeat. He is grinning at me and I am about ready to murder him.

  Pointing out to the man across from me, he says, “Soon as you get through him we get to go hunting again.”

  I look at him for a long time. He’s right.

  I stare at Marcellus and grin.

  He is staring right back at me and I can see he is figuring out my shit is finally coming together. He grins right back at me, nodding his head.

  Oh yeah, he knows it’s time for fighting.

  The ref comes out and motions us to start.

  I charge across the ring as Marcellus does the same thing.

  We are swinging for the fences as out bodies collide. I hear an audible slap of skin as we hit each other with our chests.

  My arms wrap around his torso. Lifting up, I heave him to the side as he collides with the mat.

  My arms are trapped beneath his back so I am at a disadvantage, just as he is. Pulling up, I let go of him.

  My arms are free so I can scramble off the mat into a standing position. He isn’t as fast as I am so I crowd over the top of him as he lies on his back, his feet up, ready to kick up at me.

  I stare at him a moment and say, “Fuck it! Get up man, lets go.”

  Stepping back from him, I get a couple of paces away. He stands up from the mat as I get into position. He knows I want to fight, not fuck around.

  Roaring to the crowd, I raise my arms up to them. The arena gains a notch in volume as the crowd screams back at me.

  Marcellus and I close in together and I throw two jabs and an uppercut. Each lands but doesn’t knock him out.

  He swings at me and a shot connects with my nose, then another on my eye.

  I feel a warm ooze flow down above my eyebrow. He’s busted me open. That’s good, I like blood with my violence.

  Swinging back, I catch him in the nose, hard. His eyes cross for a second, but he is aware enough to lash a kick to my thigh.

  Each time we clash together we are throwing fists. My hands are getting harder as the swings go. I can only imagine what I must look like. If it’s anything like Marcellus it’s ugly.

  The bell sounds and we are broken apart.

  Fuck. We were just getting to the fun stuff.

  I haven’t stood up with another fighter like this in a long time. My jaw hurts and I can’t see too clearly out of my right eye.

  This is the shit I live for. This is what I want. I can see in Marcellus’ eyes he does too.

  “Well, look who showed up for the fight!” Dale says as he works with the enswell across my eyebrow.

  The ice cold metal is working to reduce some of the swelling there. I need to see this guy better. The last couple of punches must have really pissed off the tissue because it was swelling up fast.

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” I mutter.

  “Don’t be sorry, be pissed. Win,” he growls at me then steps back.

  Standing up, I get ready for round three.

  My hands are sore and I can tell my knuckles will be bruised tomorrow from this shit. Fuck, all of me will be bruised. My whole damn body will be black and blue.

  Marcellus is looking as rough as I feel. His nose was broken at some point because I can see that busted skin across the top. He isn’t done though; he is smiling as wide as I am.

  I can only imagine what the guys in the commentator’s booths are saying. We must look like shit but I still feel fresh.

  I walk to the middle of the ring as the round starts and tap gloves with Marcellus. We are into the third round of five. This is going to be a long night.

  Pulling back, we bounce around on our feet for a moment then charge at each other.

  I swing hard again with all my strength. Not at his face though, this time I aim for his ribs.

  I have to rough him up, his fucking head is as hard as mine is.

  He swings for my head but connects with the top.

  Pulling back, I lash a kick at his ribs. A good solid thump happens as I feel my foot connect. He winces over to his side and I charge him.

  My arms go around his waist as I shoot towards him. Taking him down to the mat I land on top. My legs are up around his hips.

  I fell into the perfect fucking place as I get full mount on him.

  He tries to wrap his arms around my waist but I sit too far up and start swinging as hard as I can into his head. I get the side of it a couple of times before he pulls back covering up with his forearms.

  My hands are swinging down over and over, but I can’t get a full fucking connection with his face.

  I raise up on my hips then sit slam my a
ss back down as hard as I can into his stomach and ribs. He grunts as I do this and I can tell I hurt his ribs earlier with the kick. I bounce once more with my ass before I start trying to punch through his guard.

  I am getting closer, but not getting what I want.

  His hips start to thrust up as he tries to roll. He isn’t liking the beating he is getting just lying on his back.

  If he doesn’t start to work out of this the points for this round with definitely go to me.

  He succeeds in getting to his side, but I don’t think he figured I would go for the neck like I do.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I have to push under his own to get my forearm synced deep under his chin. Trapping the wrist around his neck into my other arms elbow I start to choke him as hard as I can.

  Marcellus rolls us over onto my back as I wrap my legs around his waist. He is fighting with all that he has as he pulls down on my arms but it isn’t working.

  I can feel his body weakening then he goes limp in my arms.

  I look up to the ref as I let go of Marcellus’ neck.

  The ref pushes me away. Marcellus is out and the fight is over.

  Raising my arms up into the air, I shout in pure fucking joy. This is what I have worked for. This is all that I have pushed my body to point of breaking for.

  I raise my arms and roar out to the crowd, to the ceiling.

  Then I let my arms drop back down to my sides.

  Holy fuck, I am tired. That hurt like a motherfucker. One of my hands comes up to rest on a rib that is aching.

  Fuck me.

  I kneel down beside Marcellus as he lays there. Dale’s wife, the ring doc, is asking him a series of questions.

  When he is cleared to get up, I grab his hand and pull him up.

  Nodding to each other in respect, I say, “Damn, man, you fucking punch hard.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Max

  It’s three nights later when I finally see Carson pull up in front of his house.

  He has sent multiple texts to Grace trying to get her to see it his way. The fucking bitch is trying to act like it’s her fault that he hurt them. That it was her fault that he got angry.

  He pulls up in front of his house in his shitty fucking car. He looks tired and more than a little rumpled.

  He must know that he is being hunted. We haven’t seen his ass around the city this entire time. Trust me, we have been looking.

  I step down from my Escalade and hear all the doors opening and closing.

  I lead the small band of violent men over to Carson.

  He just stands there, watching us walk to him. I would give him some credit for being more than he is if I didn’t see his whole body quivering like a fucking bitch.

  “Look man… you guys need to get the fuck out of here,” he says as he lifts his cellphone. “I’ll call the cops.”

  “You go ahead and do that,” Chase says as Brett raises his phone up, playing the video he has stored on it at full volume. It shows every single little detail of Carson stepping way over the fucking edge.

  “It’s time to pay the piper, Carson,” I say. My voice is barely above a whisper. I am so full of rage right now I feel as if I will explode into blackness at any moment.

  “Wha…” he starts to stammer before my hand shoots out. I grab him by the front of his shirt.

  Pulling him up close and personal I can smell his putrid breath as he begins to hyperventilate.

  “You hurt my girls, Carson. They are mine. Both of them.”

  He pushes at my chest but I didn’t realize how fucking weak and pathetic he is as I slam him into the garage door. “You… I’ll call my lawyer…”

  “No, you won’t, Carson. I have video of you committing aggravated assault of a woman in front of her child. Your biological daughter. You don’t have a fucking leg to stand on.”

  “What do you want?” he asks as I hold him there.

  Dale comes up beside him. “You are going to leave Grace and Hope alone for starters. You are done being in their lives. As in, you will never contact them again.”

  He looks from me to Dale then to Brett and Chase. “Okay. Deal. I’ll even sign away rights. Jus—”

  “That’s not all!” I roar into his face.

  My nose is pressing hard against his. I look like absolute shit, my bruises and busted open skin is black and blue all over.

  He is trying to get away from me like a little rat as he begins to whimper. He is wiggling and worming like the fucking insect he is.

  Slamming him back up into the garage door, I roar, “Stand up like a fucking man!”

  He doesn’t even bother trying to. “Jus… just leave me…”

  Talking right over him, I say, “You get a choice in all this, Carson.”

  I drag him up the wall. Helping him stand, I step back.

  Brett grabs Carson’s left arm as Chase grabs the right. He is shaking so badly they are having a hard time holding him.

  “Face or ribs, Carson?”

  He stops moving around for a moment. “What?”

  “I am going to hit you, Carson. Face or ribs. You get a choice in it.”

  “Wha… Are you fucking psycho?”

  “Pretty much. Make the choice or I will.”

  He is shaking again and I swear he is turning green with the thought of violence. “No… Please don…”

  “Fine, face it is. Guys, hold him tight.”

  The guys around him hold him dead still against the wall as he begins to make some squealing sound that sounds like a mix between a rat and a pig.

  I step back and then swing at him with all the strength I have in my body.

  I have been coiled up for so many hours with pent-up rage that I can feel my body striving to break through his whole fucking head.

  My fist stops as it is less than an inch away from Carson’s nose.

  His eyes are crossed and his breath has stopped as he waits for the incoming explosion of pain.

  Stepping back, I start laughing as I watch a yellow puddle form between his legs.

  “Ugh, what the fuck!?!” Chase shouts as he pushes an unharmed Carson towards Brett.

  Brett dodges as Carson stumbles but slumps into the garage. “Seriously, Chase? What the fuck? He pissed himself and you’re going to push him at me?”

  They walk off laughing as they head back to my Escalade.

  Dale leans down and speaks to Carson in a low voice for a long time. I don’t quite catch what he says, but Carson sure does. His eyes are wide with terror.

  Dale stands up and then walks back to the SUV, laughing to himself.

  I look down at Carson for a long time. He is crouched down there, looking like a defeated little rat.

  “Carson, this is your one chance to get out of all this free and in the clear. You come around again and I will make you disappear.”

  I walk away from him then. I want to hurt him way too much.

  If I start hitting him now I might not stop. I might just kill him.

  I made a promise.

  Fuck, it’s hard walking away from that asshole.

  * * *

  Slipping up behind Grace, I rub my hand around her tummy. There could be a baby of mine in there. That is so fucking awesome.

  “Did you find him?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  She turns over to face me. “Did you hurt him really bad?”

  “No. We didn’t hurt him at all. But he did piss himself.”

  She bursts out giggling. “What in the world?”

  “He’s done with this whole thing, baby, he won’t be coming back.”

  “Thank god.”

  I lean in, kissing my girl. Her lips are so soft as I slowly pull her up to my chest. I love this woman.

  Epilogue

  Grace

  Six months later

  “I can’t fucking believe I’m wearing this. I look like a little pussy bitch,” Brett mutters under his breath and tugs at the collar of his shirt.r />
  “Brett!” Mandy scolds. “For the millionth time, watch your language in front of the babies.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Brett shuffles over to the swear jar left on the kitchen counter and drops a twenty in it. The jar is already halfway full of twenties, and will probably be filled to the top before the night is over.

  “Sorry, baby,” Brett sighs and leans down, kissing a very-pregnant Mandy on the cheek. Her belly is so big and round she looks like she’s about to burst at any minute.

  From across the kitchen comes the happy squeals of Chase’s twin baby girls, Emma and Emily.

  “Yeah, well you always look like a little pussy bitch,” Chase remarks with a smirk. “I don’t see how the shirt makes any difference.”

  Chase’s wife, Avery, gives him the stink-eye but the big guy just grins and bounces his two girls, one in each beefy arm. With a sigh, Avery wanders over to the jar and slips in a couple of twenties.

  “I personally think it makes you look more manly,” I giggle. “Nothing screams I’m comfortable with my masculinity like wearing a hot pink Britney Spears shirt.”

  Brett gives me a confused look. “Seriously?”

  I giggle and Chase calls out loudly, “Nah, she’s just fuckin’ with you.”

  “Chase!” Avery sighs now and gives me an exasperated look as she drops a couple more twenties in the jar. “It will be a miracle if the girls’ first words aren’t fuck, shit, or bitch.”

  “Don’t forget pussy,” Brett chimes in and drops another twenty.

  Mandy eyes the jar. “Well, on the bright side, at the rate we’re going they’ll have enough to pay for college by the time they start kindergarten.”

  I nod my head and then turn to the doorway as I hear Hope’s happy squeal echoing in the hallway. She’s so excited about tonight, we’re celebrating her official adoption by Max. The State of Nevada now officially recognizes him as her legal father. We’ve had her birth certificate changed and everything. From this day forth she is no longer Hope Madison Hilton, she is Hope Madison Harper. It’s such a relief that the three of us share the same name now.

  After that night the guys confronted Carson, I haven’t heard a peep from him. His texts mysteriously stopped coming. Through our lawyers, he relinquished custody, signing over all his parental rights. He even left the city and no longer operates the Subaru lot on main. I don’t know what the guys did or said to scare him off but I can’t say I’m upset about it. Now that he’s gone, Hope is so much happier.