Breaking Beast (Pounding Hearts 4)

Her voice soft, she leans close to me again and whispers, “Just wait until after the fight when he wins, that’s when the real fun starts.”

Giving me a wink, Chase pulls her towards him and asks, “What are you two whispering about?”

I can’t hear what she tells him because the crowd roars as the guys stand up from their corners.

Watching Alex stomp to the middle of the cage, covered in sweat and blood, something about it just gets my blood pumping.

He looks so damn vicious, so damn primal.

Avery’s words remind me of how close we were to going at it in the locker room. Will he be like that when the fight is over? Will he really be up to taking me?

Alex let’s out a blood curdling roar and my core clenches in response, but then the ref’s arm drops and the punches start flying. The sheer brutality of the second round, and each punch Alex takes to the face, quickly kills what lust was building up inside me.

Above the crowd I can hear Chase cursing and roaring beside Avery.

The carnage is so shocking that I suddenly remember that only a couple of weeks from now I’ll be in a cage. I’ll be expected to fight like that… but I’ve never taken a true punch to the face.

Alex

What’s it like to take a punch to the face? What’s it like to fight someone and not have it end quickly? What’s it like to have to stop and then go back out into the ring for more pain and violence?

I don’t really know the answer to all those questions because when the ref tells me to fight I stop being Alex. I stop being one of those men in control of his aggression. I become the Beast.

That’s what they call me, the Beast. They call me the Beast because I act like one. I no longer show my human side. Most of my humanity is gone, and all that is left is the raw monster that finally has the chains taken off of him.

When I stand up from the stool for the second time, I can feel the little jolts of adrenaline surging through my veins. My muscles start to twitch, little jumps to make sure they are ready to go. My lungs are panting heavily, and the blood they tried to keep from leaking out of the gash on my cheek is starting to leak again.

My nose is a little leaky and stuffy, but I don’t think it’s broken just yet. My arms, though, they don’t feel so heavy and the pain that was starting to show up while I sat on the stool is quickly fading.

It’s time to let the monster come out again. No more holding back. I’m going to break him this round. Break him in fucking half.

“Guys, you ready?” the ref yells out to us. Looking both ways, he gets the nod.

“Let’s go!”

Looking across the cage at Rocko, I give him a tip of my head. He looks as fucked up as I probably do. He has the look in his eyes that tells me he wants to take me out now. He knows for a fact that the last two rounds have been building to this one.

One of us is not going to make it out of this cage.

We try to do the circle shuffle routine to start the round, but my legs are getting antsy. They want to kick someone as bad as my hands want to hit.

Charging in, I go for a hard kick at his head with my left foot. He gets a hand up in time but my foot still slams hard into that hand that’s blocking his head.

His eyes are glassy as I pull back from him. Not giving him a chance to get his bearings, I charge into him. My fists start flying as hard as they can. Each one connecting to his guarded face, whether on his arms or the sides of his head.

He’s blocking me, but not pushing back.

Forcing him to open up with a kick to his ribs, I punch one more time and this final punch connects to that sweet spot, right to the side of his chin.

Watching him stumble back into the cage wall, I move forward to continue my assault but he’s out like a fucking light.

Looking to the ref, who is not in the best position to see that Rocko’s eyes are closed, I back away and say, “He’s out, ref!”

The ref nods as he bends down to the mat to help Rocko recover.

The bell sounds over the screams of thousands of fans. They are all on their feet now, screaming their heads off.

My monster inside is pissed. He wanted more fighting, more violence.

Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I raise my hands over my head in victory. Tonight’s my fucking night. I’ve proven I’m the fucking champion.