I know this fight isn't going to be a fast one so I use the clock to my advantage. I like to make sure I can at least win the round by blows landed so I throw as many punches that I can.
Wrapping myself again around Ethan, I pull him over onto his back. With my body on top of his, I try to punch my way around and through his arms. By the sudden redness of his right eye, I can see the last one has landed. He also has a look on his face I have come to recognize from experience. It's awareness, a sudden dawning on him that this isn't
going to be an easy win.
I lift up quickly and try to drop my weight on his stomach as I throw a hard punch. It’s not doing much but it can’t be easy to breathe either. Two hundred and sixty-five is a hard weight to just shove off.
The rest of the round goes by in a flash as I try to punish him as much as possible. If I’m not punching him I’m making him work hard to keep me from pushing him to tap out.
At the end of the round, I hear the bell loud and clear and pull myself off of Ethan.
Harry pulls me up and right then Ethan throws a kick to my crotch.
It barely misses my cup protected groin as I dodge quickly back. It’s a very low blow, and after the bell to boot. My inner beast roars inside of his cage and I lunge towards the dirty fighting ass.
But Harry the ref isn't a lightweight by any means. I may be a heavyweight fighter but he restrains me and pushes me away from Ethan.
I walk back to my corner with a slight hitch in my gait then lean up against the steel cage around us. Dale walks quickly from the gate that opens up to let the coaches in. He turns me around to face the middle of the ring and sits me down on the bench.
“You alright, Chase?” Dale asks as he rubs up against my eyebrows and cheeks with a strip of metal with a handle on it. It’s ice cold and helps keep my eyes from swelling from where Ethan’s punches landed.
Looking out across the ring I see Harry walking over to Ethan’s side. He gives him a sharp warning then deducts one point from the score card. Harry is a true professional though. We may know each other and be on good terms but he is doing his job right now. He turns to me and comes over, warning me as well for late hits.
“I'm going to end it right now Dale,” I say as I look across from him. I stare past Ethan, my eyes connecting with the hot raven-haired hottie sitting on his side. The one he’s been parading around here. I give just the smallest grin as she looks back at me and I wink towards her.
“Fuck the game plan, Dale. That was fucking bullshit to try and nut shot me. He won't get past the first minute of this round.”
Round two is pretty much the same for us except for one difference, I’m the one who takes off across the ring at the start. I throw as many punches and kicks as fast as I can at Ethan.
Now it’s my turn to take him out of his comfort zone.
I wrap myself around him and throw him to the floor, using my shoulder to drive him as hard as I can through the mat. I know better than to fight with my emotions though and soon feel him wrapping himself along my back, attempting to get my arm between his legs.
I let him though as I start to slowly pull myself back up to a standing position with him curled up around my right shoulder.
“Ah, fuck.” I hear Ethan mutter as he knows what’s coming next.
I lift Ethan up and ensure he is unable to slip down as I partially stand.
I'm 6'4 and weigh two hundred and sixty-five pounds. This is not the first time I have used my conditioning and strength to overpower someone. So I do what other fighters absolutely hate to have happen, I slam him back down and into the mat as hard as I can. It’s not an easy move to do, but with the anger I have in me it isn't going to feel good for him one fucking bit.
He unfolds slightly on the downward fall which protects him a little from the hard landing but not much. I drop down on him and start punching him as hard and as fucking fast as I can. Soon I feel Harry diving into me but I continue to land blows on Ethan's unprotected face.
I know I opened up a couple of spots on Ethan’s face before I allow Harry to pull me off of him.
A loud bell is ringing off to the side of the ring and I stand up, raising my hands triumphantly into the air.
Slamming my right hand across my chest, over my heart, I roar. The sound is drowned out though as the crowd howls and cheers for the win.
I walk over towards Ethan as the cage door opens and trainers and medical staff come rushing in to attend to us both. I lean over Harry's shoulder and smile down at Ethan. Ethan is now leaning back against the cage as Harry helps him reorient himself.
“Good fight, brother,” I say and reach a hand down to pat him on the shoulder. He may be an asshole but I try to show no hard feelings from all the pre-fight crap that has been said. In my experience, it’s always best to end a fight on a good note.
“Fuck off, asshole!” Ethan yells as he pushes my hand away.
Shrugging, I turn away from him. He's not the first person to respond badly to losing. I try to always be at least humble in winning, but fuck him then. I raise my hands into the air and cheer as I walk away.
With what only feels like seconds, Harry has us both standing up. He latches on to us by our wrists as the announcer belts out, “The winner by referee stoppage at forty-five seconds in the second round, the still reigning champion, Chase Winters!”