Comes with the Territory

I waited patiently, watching for movement. There wasn’t any. So I pulled a little more, digging my foot in. There was a small gasp, and then the fingers tapped. Finally, I won. I bounced back, eyeing him warily for any sign of cheating and attacking me unawares. He didn’t. He just stepped back into the crowd of drunk, booing fans, rubbing his shoulder and glaring at me. Looks like I was the underdog in this round. Again. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, cleaning off the sweat that was there.

The crowd was going nuts, slapping more money on the table for bets and more alcohol. Just like every night. Before they could pull me into another fight, I blended into the crowd, grabbing my hoodie from its stash behind the fake plant in the corner. I pulled my cap from the pockets, pulling it down over my eyes, and then pulled up my hood. I stuck headphones in my ears, even though I had no music-player.

I scanned the crowd at the bar for Simon, finding him with an arm around two scarcely clad women. How typical of him. I made my way over, dodging intoxicated morons dancing to the techno music blaring. When I reached him, his tongue was down some girl’s throat, and I had to jerk him away. When he saw me, a big grin appeared on his face.

“Ah, my little Hellcat, there you are! That was a great fight, by the way,” he slurred, downing another glass, and signaling for another. I shifted, wanting to get the hell out of there, but I needed my money, first.

“Cut the crap, Simon. Just hand over my winnings, and I’ll be out of your hair,” I told him, not liking all of the eyes on me. Simon tutted, sipping from his fresh glass, and turned to look at me, his eyes bloodshot.

“Now, now, little Hellcat, no need to get feisty.” He reached inside his coat and pulled out a stack of money, wrapped in plastic wrap. I stuck it inside my own jacket pocket, nodding my thanks to my employer.

“Oh, and Hellcat,” he called as I turned away, pausing me from my quick get-away, “We need you here tomorrow, main event.” I growled; he knows I only fight every other day, and was about to tell him off when he spoke four, magic words.

“I’ll double your pay,” I just turned, checking to see if he was lying. He wasn’t, watching me for a reaction. I just nodded; turning away so I wouldn’t see that sleazy grin I knew was there, plastered on his awful face that I dreamt about smashing. Suddenly, I felt trapped, the crowd closing in on me, and I just needed to get out.

I slinked towards the backdoor, eyeing the crowd that pressed against me. I fought the urge to run, swallowing the sudden onset of claustrophobia that was clawing its way into my head. Everything swirled, spinning in speeding circles around me. I was on the brink of passing out when my hand reached the doorknob, relief flooding through me. I tugged it open and flung myself out, the cool late autumn air tickling my bare legs. I grabbed my backpack from behind the drain, finding my sweats and pulling them on over my black fighting spandex.

My head was still swimming, but I was calming down, think better thoughts. Like how I could land a solid job to keep me and Daddy afloat. Like how Ethan had never left. I mentally smacked myself in the forehead for thinking of him. The unspeakable person who I vowed never to think of again.

I closed my eyes, letting myself sink to the ground. My ribs tweaked painfully, but I ignored it, knowing they were only bruised after a quick fist than elbow combination to the soft spot. My opponent- Grey- had been quick with the blows, but no one can beat the Hellcat. I laughed at the name, thinking of how I had gotten it.

Before I had ever even thought of fighting in the UGF ring, I would wind up in lots of fistfights. My mom was appalled by my behavior, but daddy thought it was great. One day, when I and he finished up at the movies, some thugs came at us on the walk home. Boy, did we mess them up. My dad was a damn good fighter, too, but he told me that I fought like a little hellcat. And the name stuck. So when I ran out of options money-wise, I went to the Underground to try out. After I knocked everyone out there senseless, they asked what I wanted my stage name to be. The only thing I could think of was Hellcat. They liked it, so it stuck with them, too.