Broken Eyes and Bloody Knuckles [ON HOLD]

Chapter 3

°°°°Amora Pierce°°°°

I walked into the gym through the back entrance, a bit of a bounce in my step. I felt content, dropping my duffle bag on a bench, going to find Eddie; my manager.

I found him at his desk in his office, and only briefly checked in with him, not speaking and just waving.

I went back to the locker room, thoughts swimming in my head of who I was fighting tonight. Maybe I'd actually fight a challenge tonight.

I stretched as I heard the noisy crowd entered the gym. Familiar adrenaline coursed through my veins, and I grinned. I felt my stress melt away.

I stood and went to my doorway; hoping to catch a glimpse of my opponent. No such luck.

I adjusted my sports bra as I heard the announcer start.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, we have a cage match! On this side, standing 5'11" and 150lbs, sangrienta melodía!" I run out, crowd screaming, and then notice I forget to tape up my knuckles. Oops.

I stepped into the cage area, standing with my feet shoulder width apart. The crowd died down a little.

"Andddddd on this side," the announcer grinned, his excitement infectious. "Standing 6'3" and 230lbssss: Wrecking ball!" The crowd yells again as the large man steps into the cage. He pops his knuckles as if to intimidate me.

I rolled my eyes, dropping into a defensive position. I heard the ref shout start, after the locks on the cages were secure, and the man charged me.

I slid under his legs, using his momentum to push him forward. He used his weight and threw it at me in the form of a heavy punch to the face.

I stumbled as it caught my lip, and I felt it split. I got in a few punches to the face, making hem off balance before I felt my knuckles cracked, and I yelped in pain.

The crowd screamed around us as we went rounds. It could've been minutes, or hours. I took several hits to the face as I attempted to recover from my knuckles, finally resorting to throwing elbows.

I must've hit him into a stupor, because he fell, and before I registered if he was still up, I kicked him hard in the sides of his body until he passed out. I heard the ref blow his whistle and I instantly stepped away, grinning, but my teeth were stained red. I raised my hands in victory, being led out of the cage by Eddie. He was talking, but I couldn't hear him over the crowd and my own heart. I hurried to the locker room.

I paused, taking a few deep breaths. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I am okay." I slowly calmed as I sat there. I took deep breaths, looking in the mirror. Most of my wounds would be easily covered, but my lips were busted; bad. I shook my head and went to the shower, rinsing off the grime and blood.

Once I was done, I took a more serious look at my injuries. I decided that my lip would need stitches, but the black eye and bloody nose would be fine; as they were superficial.

I look down, and my torso is decorated with forming bruises. My knuckles on both hands were bloody, and a couple were probably broken.

The medic walked into the locker room, and I sat down.

"Don't speak, your lip needs tended to." She orders, her voice firm and she got started. She spoke as she worked.

"This must hurt. The other guy was crying like a baby. You broke a couple of his ribs.

You know, you don't have to do this." I made a noise of protest as she stitched my lip.

"I'm serious. You've made enough to live comfortable for the rest of your life. Too much longer in that ring and you won't be as much as a Bonita ella."

I sighed as she finished and started taping my knuckles. My voice came out a bit jumbled.

"I need thith. Am I done?"

She nods, and I stood up and got my stuff. I grabbed my duffle and headed home, driving more carefully on my bike than I normally did when I got home.

When I walked in the door, my dad was on the stairs, shouting in a thunderous voice. My blood ran cold.

"Puta!"

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