To Love, To Fight, To Win

Chapter 1

Blood gushed out of my nose from the punch that my opponent landed on my face. A grin appeared on my face while I bared my teeth at the 6'5 male in his early thirties. "Nice hit, but that didn't knock me out," I taunted, spreading my feet wider apart and having my hands closer to my face. I ignored the blood that ran down my nose, even as some of it ended in my mouth.

My gaze was solely on this male and what I had to do to win the fight against him.

The male glared at me and gritted his teeth together, his blue eyes dangerous. "Come on, Sweetpea," he taunted, and I narrowed my eyes and scowled because I did not enjoy what he was implying. "Submit, and I'll show you a real way you can make money." He looked me up and down and licked his lips in anticipation, and I scoffed and rolled my eyes because I knew that he wanted me to prostitute my body.

"Ya, not in a million years," I replied with a scoff. I looked him up and down, trying to see if I couldn't find a way to take him down. A small smirk appeared on my lips when I saw that he was favoring his left leg from an injury that I had given him prior to this exchange. "Come now, are you sure that you don't want to submit?" I cooed, and he glared and set his jaw. "Or do you want to be beaten by a girl?"

The crowd broke out in a loud roar as if they were glad that I was taunting this big fella. It was no secret that I was a favorite on the streets, even though all of the fightings was "hush hush," for it was illegal, and we could get thrown into jail if we were caught. "Myers! Myers!" they cheered, calling me by the name that I had said before the fight.

The man's nose flared in annoyance when he heard the cheers. A hard glare was in his eyes, and if I wasn't used to it, then I was sure that it would have made me freeze. He kept his arms close to his body, trying to get it so that I wouldn't be able to hit him.

I took a deep breath and waited for him to move closer. Unlike some of my opponents, I didn't dive in headfirst into the fight. I waited for them to get close enough before acting. I was fast, and I used that to my advantage, knowing that I wouldn't be able to rely on strength with men half my size.

The man swung his left fist towards me and lifted up his right leg, thinking that I would dodge to my left.

However, I ducked under his fist and landed a hard kick on his left leg before doing a roundhouse kick to the back of his head.

The crowd roared louder when he fell to the floor unconscious. If it was possible, it grew a bit louder when the ref went to look at the other male before grabbing my hand and saying that I was the winner, holding my hand up for all to see.

After I was released from the ref and collected my winnings for this evening, I started to walk towards the place where I had placed my old black bag and leather jacket before the fights I participated in. My whole body was sore, and I was getting tired of the blood pouring down my face, but all I wanted to do was get out of here before someone else decided to challenge me.

"You know, it looks like you need something to stop that bleeding," someone said behind me. "I have a shirt that could do that deed."

I turned around to see a male around my age, holding out his shirt, of course, bare chested. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, not paying attention to the way he looked. "No, thanks," I replied. I turned back around and went back to my bag and jacket, stuffing the money in there. I placed my jacket on, wincing at my back before going into my bag and pulling out a napkin, placing it on my nose.

"Names, Jeremiah. What is your name?"

"Not interested."

"Are you from around here?"

"You won't find out." I grabbed my bag and slung it onto my back before going towards the exit that I usually took. I paid the male no heed, not even interested in what he tried to sell.

"Mark my words; I will find out who you are."

I scoffed and gave him the bird. I did not care about this stalker kid, and if I saw him again, I might just attack him.

Let's just hope he knew better than to mess with me.

I wasn't one for talking and mostly let my fists have the last word instead of my mouth.