Undefeated - A New Adult Romance Novel (9 page)

He raised himself up onto his elbows and started crying out loud.

“You fucking punk. Shut up. Do you have any tools in here? In the house?” I asked.

Confused, he looked at me and squinted. I raised my hands in a defensive boxing posture and clenched my jaw. I took one step in his direction.

“Utility room,” he said softly as he nodded his head toward the kitchen.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I laughed, knowing he probably couldn’t even stand.

I walked into the utility room and found two tool boxes on the shelves above the washer and dryer. I opened one. It contained pliers, hammer, wrenches, screwdrivers, electrical tape, and basic repair type tools.
Perfect.
I opened the other. It contained gardening tools and chemicals. I removed the pruning shears from the gardening box and placed them into the first tool box and closed the lid. I walked into the kitchen and opened drawers until I found dish rags and towels. I grabbed a few towels and stuck them in my back pocket.

As I walked into the living room, Buster was sitting against the couch on the floor.

“Nice selection of tools. I’ll make this quick. Well, it’ll be kind of quick. You’re going to need to listen again,” I said as I placed the tool box between the chair and the couch.

“Okay. I’m going to say this now, later it’d make no sense to you,” I looked down at him and smiled.

He looked up confused.

“If you go to the hospital or the doctor, they’re going to ask questions. You have a knot on your head that’s six or so hours old. You have other fresh wounds. They’ll want to know what happened. You
could
tell them about me coming here. If you choose to, my buddy will come find you. He makes me look like a real pussy. He’d probably go ahead and kill you, but do it really slow. If you have any great ideas or plans to get even, or try anything, you might want to remember that he knows you, and he hates you more than I do. I volunteered to come here – to save you from
him
,” I pressed my index finger to my lips and thought.

“Okay, so yeah, probably no trips to the doctor. And Kace is not going to file charges against you for what you’ve done or what you did today.
This
is your punishment. It’s just easier this way,” I paused and turned away for a second.

“So, this might sound really bad at first, but I want you to think about it for a second before you answer.
No rash decisions. I’m going to let you decide what we do next, okay?” I said softly as I turned around to face him.

Without speaking he nodded. I bent down and opened the tool box. I removed the hammer and the pruning shears, holding one in each hand.

“Okay, I’ll let
you
pick. I can either cut the tip of your index finger off, or hit you in the mouth with this hammer, and knock out a couple teeth. Which one sounds better?” I asked as I rotated the tools in my hands in front of him.

“Oh God. Please. I’m gonna throw up,” he moaned.

“Well, if you have to you have to,” I said.

“You’re crazy. Seriously, you’re crazy.
My finger
?” he complained as he held his ribs.

“Not your finger, just
part of it
. And crazy? No, let me tell you about crazy. Crazy? Crazy is you being the man in a relationship with a one hundred pound woman that only wants to be loved and cherished,” I paused and shook my head.

“And
beating her, intimidating her, and taking things from her just to control and manipulate her. Taking her phone, her Kindle, her freedom. Choking her. Not letting her see her parents. And beating her until she’s down to the floor, and kicking her teeth out. Kicking a woman in the face after you beat her and she’s lying on the floor. All to a fucking
girl
. Someone that trusts you, someone you’re supposed to
protect
. You manipulative piece of fucking shit,” the more I spoke the angrier I became.

I looked down at him as he sat against the front of the couch. I clenched my jaw and shook my head. This motherfucker wants to call
me
crazy?

Without a second thought,
I leaned forward and swung the hammer toward his mouth. Having never hit anyone in the mouth with a hammer, I didn’t quite know what to expect. It felt like I was hitting a piece of wood, driving the hammer through it - splintering the wood. His teeth snapped off as soon as the hammer made contact with them.

I tossed the hammer behind me several feet and bent down to look at his face.

“Don’t you dare get blood on my jeans,” I snarled.

With h
is hands cupped over his mouth he screamed and cried. Rocking back and forth onto the front of the couch, he blubbered tears and spit blood. Blood ran down his arms and dripped from his elbows onto the floor.

“Move your fucking hands, let me see what kind of damage we’re talking about,” I said as I reached for his hands.

As tears ran from his eyes and blood dripped from his elbows, he cried and sobbed.

“Hands!” I screamed.

“Holy fuck. God damn. Now
that’s
the way to knock out teeth, huh? Shit. There’s maybe five or six of them fuckers gone. Get you a mouthful of these,” I said as I smiled, exposing my gold tooth.

“You know, I’d have let you pick
– either your mouth or your finger. You should have picked
one.
But God damn it. The more I talked about what you did to that poor girl, the madder it made me. And just looking at you is irritating as fuck,” with the pruning shears still in my hand, I sat down beside him on the floor.

I reached over and grabbed his
right wrist. As I pulled his hand toward my chest, he moaned. I’ve never had my teeth knocked out with a hammer, but I suspected he was in shock, semi-conscious from the beating, and incapable of speech due to the mouth full of teeth and the mangled lips. All he had left was crying, and he began to do a lot of that.

As he sat and sobbed, I pulled a towel from my back pocket and wrapped his hand in it, leaving o
nly his index finger exposed. I squeezed his wrist and as I did, he attempted to close his hand into a fist.

“If you make a fist and make this difficult, I’ll go get that tree saw fr
om the utility room and cut your entire fucking hand off. And whatever I cut off, I’m taking with me. Hold still, God damn it,” I said as I squeezed his wrist harder.

I slid my
left hand from his wrist to his hand. As I squeezed his palm in my hand, I opened the shears and lightly squeezed his index finger in the razor sharp jaws. Not having ever cut the tip of anyone’s index finger off either, I didn’t know what to expect. I had pruned multiple bushes, and in hindsight, the branches - regardless of girth, were always easy to snip in two. Quickly, I squeezed the handle of the shears. As soon as I began to squeeze, he jerked his hand and screamed.

As he screamed, t
he tip of his finger fell into my lap. Blood immediately spurted from the tip of what was left of his finger. I covered his hand with the towel that his hand was wrapped in. Simultaneously, he slobbered and sobbed loudly. As he pulled his hand to his chest and cried, I stood up.

“God damn, I ended up getting a lot more of that fucker in the shears than I wanted to. I’m really sorry, looks like I got about an inch of that fucker. Well, at least it was quick,” I said as I bent down and picked up
what appeared to be half of his finger.

I pulled another towel from my back pocket and wrapped his fingertip in it. I shoved the towel wrapped finger in
to the front pocket of my jeans. I grabbed my hoodie from the arm of the chair and put it on.

“Don’t want to forget this,” I smiled as I pulled it over my head.

I grabbed the electrical tape from the tool box, and turned to face him. I held the tape in the air so he could see it.

“Let me see that hand, I’ll tape that dish towel to it really good so you don’t make a bigger mess on this carpet. You’ve got blood
, tears, and snot everywhere,” I chuckled.

I reached down, pulled his hand away from his chest, and went around the circumference of the towel several times with electrical tape. I tossed the tape onto the couch cushion and shook my head as I watched him rocking back and forth holding his hand.

“I think my work is done here. Get some ice on that finger and mouth. You’ll need to wrap those ribs. They’re going to hurt longer than anything else. You can Google everything, there’s great medical advice out there. And dude, I have no idea where your teeth went when I smacked you with that hammer. That happened really fast. You might have swallowed those fuckers. Now remember,” I kicked his thigh with my foot.

With his eyes full of tears, sobbing, he looked up at me.

I held my index finger to my lips, “Shhhhhhh. Just between you and me.”

He stared.

I kicked him again.

He nodded slowly.

I turned and walked toward the front door. As I did, I felt like I had actually accomplished something. The feeling, to me, was similar to winning a boxing match. I reached for the handle, inhaled a deep breath, and exhaled as I opened the door.

I
walked out onto the front porch, shut the door, and pulled the keys Kace gave me from my front pocket. I pushed the key into the lock and locked the front door.

Safety first.

SHANE.
My father joined the military immediately following the first Gulf War, in 1993. My mother was around for a few years following that, from what my grandfather told me, but she left us not too long after he joined the military. At the time we lived in Oceanside, in southern California. I really don’t remember much of my childhood - I was shuffled around quite a bit and I suspect that it all became too confusing to remember.

When they flew the planes into the world trade center, my father was deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan.
I moved to Compton and lived with my grandfather at the time of his first deployment. From his first deployment to his death, he was never really around more than a month or so at a time. I lived with my grandfather until his death.

Having someone in my life that prevented me from feeling alone has always been important. I suppose it’s important to everyone, but it’s one thing that helps keep me feeling as if I’m normal. From what I can remember
of my childhood, I had always been somewhat of a loner, and never had a tremendous amount of friends. I’ve never really been shy, just slow to let people into my life. As long as I had someone to keep me company, I was satisfied. In the past, my father, grandfather, and a former girlfriend have filled that void in my life.

I always had a tremendous amount of respect for my father. Although I rarely saw him, he devoted his time, his career, and ultimately his life for the country and what he believed in. As a tribute to him, and as a matter of respect, I wore his dog tags with me everywhere I went. They had become somewhat of a good luck charm to me. In the boxing ring they are not allowed, and I have
always had my trainer or manager hold them while I fight.

I realize that I have tremendous natural talent as a boxer. I could never imagine trying to box without them accompanying me to a fight.  To me, it was as if my father was there with me, looking over me, cheering me on, and providing me with support. A father that was never able to be present through my childhood
.

Now present for every match.

Now fighting without any family to support me was difficult. I relied totally on the support of my dog tags to be my family. Being without them would put me in the ring naked and without any form of protection.

“Now listen, Shane. This guy is a beast. You’ve watched his films. You’ve seen what he can do. Watch his left cross. He’ll catch you blind. If he ever connects that thing, you’ll have one hell of a time recovering,” Kelsey stood behind me as I worked the speed bag.

“Where we headed if we beat this guy, Shane?” he asked as he clapped his hands.

“
Big ticket, boss,” I responded without looking up from the bag.

“That’s right,
the big ticket
. You’ll be on that card for the championship fight. You’ll be on god damned television. Pay television, Shane - not ESPN. You’re one fight away from being a household name,” Kelsey said as he clapped his hands.

“You amaze me, Shane. I have never seen a boxer that is such a natural. You act like you’re eating fucking dinner
or going for a walk in the park. You’ve got a heart of ice, and nerves of steel. Hell, you can hear every word I say while you’re fighting. I’ve never seen that. I’ve yelled at boxers for a lifetime, and after a round is over, they have no idea what I said,” he said as I continued to work the bag.

“
It’s your job to tell me what to do, boss. It’s mine to do it. You can see what I can’t,” I said as I hit the speed bag one last time.

“How you feel?” he asked.

I nodded sharply.

“Better get out in the hallway, they’re calling you out in five,” the floor manager said through the doorway.

“How we fighting this guy?” Kelsey asked as I sat on the bench beside him.

“Southpaw, boss. Just like you said,” I responded.

“That’s right. Tonight you’re a lefty. Let’s go,” he said as he laced up my gloves.

I looked down at the floor and said my prayer. As I stood
up I pounded my gloves together and tapped my dog tags with each glove.

We stepped into the hallway and waited for the call. As soon a
Jimi Hendrix, Red House
began to play I started to walk toward the ring.

As I approached the ring, I saw Ripp and Kace right where they said they’d be. I stopped at the edge of the ring and lowered my head. Kelsey reached toward my neck and slowly removed my dog tags.

“Give ‘em to my girl, boss,” I said.

He nodded.

“Get in the ring, Shane,” Kelsey said as he nodded toward the ring.

“Hand her the tags, boss. I need to see it,” I said.

Kace was half sitting, half standing, and obviously excited. Ripp stood beside her, clapping and whistling. As Kelsey handed her the dog tags, she made eye contact with me.

“Who?” I screamed her direction.

She pointed at her chest.

I nodded and stepped into the ring.

I closed my eyes and jogged lightly in place. Blocking out everything was easy for me. I waited for them to call my name. I was ready.

“…red corner….Mace Maaaaad Dogggg Wilsonnnnnn” the announcer said.

“And. In the blue corner. Shane Shame on Deeeeeeekkaaaaar,” I opened my eyes and stepped to the center of the ring.

I stared into the eyes of Wilson.

“Listen up. I gave you your instructions in the dressing rooms. Obey my commands at all times. When I say break, I want a clean break. In the event of a knock down, I’ll direct you to a neutral corner. I want a clean fight. Protect yourselves at all times. Any questions?” the referee asked Wilson.

Wilson shook his head.

He turned his head to face me, “Any questions?” he asked.

“No sir,” I responded.

“Touch ‘em up,” he said.

We touched gloves
and headed to our corners.

“Remember what we talked about,” Kelsey said sharply.

I bit my mouthpiece and nodded my head.

“This left handed son-of-a-bitch might try and lace ya, or butt ya, watch it. You know he’s dirty, Shane,” Kelsey reminded me.

I nodded my head.

Ding!

As I felt Kelsey slap my back, I jumped up and headed to the center of the ring.

Wilson met me in the center and began to
circle to my left. After a few feeler punches, he started to peek-a-boo.

Yo
u wanna play peek-a-boo, motherfucker? I’ll get those arms down.

I connected a few punches to his elbows, forearms, and lit him up with a series of body shots.

“Make him come to you,”
I heard Kelsey scream.

I tried a left hook, hoping for his liver. I caught an elbow
, and he came back with a quick combination. His right jab caught me good, and glanced off to the left side of my face.

I stepped back and made him come to me.

As he stepped in, and started on me, I heard Kelsey,
“Stay inside and counter, kid.”

Fucking Kelsey.

What have I told that old prick about calling me kid?

I threw a
series of hooks and uppercuts. With my chin tucked and my head down, I noticed an opening. I have always been a master at counterpunching, and as soon as I saw it, I threw a right hook and a left uppercut. The uppercut caught the corner of his chin. He stumbled back and to his left.

Kelsey’s screaming got louder.
“
Stay inside, kid. Work that motherfucker! Counter!”

Come here you big bastard. Let me see that chin. Let me see it, just once. That’s all I need.

I worked his body and pummeled his arms with several flurries of punched. He was attempting to tire me. Obviously he doesn’t know much about me. I don’t tire. Ever. I could do this all night. I worked against his arms and tried to get him to open up.

He countered with a series of jabs and a few hooks that caught my upper arms and shoulder. Although I saw the punches and felt my body move, the impact wasn’t felt. When I fight, for the most part, I go numb.

“Left hook, kid. Get that left in there, God damnit,”
Kelsey screamed.

If that cocksucker calls me kid again…

I felt Kelsey’s hand hitting the mat.

We’re down to seconds.

I pushed him off, threw a right uppercut, and barely missed his chin.

Ding!

I found my corner and stepped to it.

“God damn it.
You got to stay inside with this guy. You’re too quick not to stay inside and counter this big bastard. You got him with that inside work, kid. Fifteen more seconds in that round and he would have been in trouble. He holds his right elbow tight. You’ll get him with that left hook. Use it. Use it, God damn it,” Kelsey screamed.

“Remember that guy in San Antonio last year? Tate?” he asked.

I nodded.

“He’s fighting just like him. If he comes out in this round like he did in the last, stay inside and get him on the break. You’re a damn site quicker than he is, kid,” he bellowed.

As the bell rang, I scowled at Kelsey for calling me
kid
and jumped up and headed for Wilson.

As we met, I was immediately introduced to a series of
his quick jabs. He did have fast hands, but it was his power that worried me.

I followed him
close, and the peek-a-boo bullshit started again.

You cock sucker, you trying to lure me? What have you got? What’s your plan?

I got inside and worked his body and arms. It didn’t seem to faze him at all. I continued to work his arms, knowing that sooner or later, he’d either lower his arms - exposing that chin, or try and punch his way out. If he tried to punch his way out, I’d left hook his ass into next fucking week.

I worked his right arm hard with my left
hook.

My left’s just as
strong as my right you big prick. Did you like that? Hurt, didn’t it?

I swung a left hook as hard as I could. The punch caught him right above the elbow. He winced from the impact.

How’d that feel?

I got him with a series of rights, and a left that caught his
right elbow, shoving it into his ribs. He face contorted.

Oh. Did that hurt
ya?

I threw two more quick lefts to his body, just
below the elbow, followed up by a quick combination to his face. Instinctively, it caused him to raise his arms and try and fight his way out. As he raised his arms, I absolutely unleashed on his torso. Seven or eight quick punches to his torso before he got his arms back down, and he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

Didn’t know I was that fast, did ya, big boy?

He threw a right jab and missed. I countered with a right uppercut and a left hook. The left hook caught his lower abdomen.

He tucked his elbows and winced.

Well, big boy, I either got a rib, or your liver’s hurtin’. Sorry, but this is gonna hurt like a mother fucker.

I immediately stepped in
and worked his body with a quick combination, followed by a left uppercut. The uppercut caught him on the right side of the face – a glancing blow. As his head turned left, his right elbow came up.

“Body, kid. Body. Open him up, kid. Body!”
I head Kelsey scream.

Where’s that bottom rib, Wilson? Where is it? I want it.
I need it.

I went back to the body. As he lowered his arms to protect his body, I threw a few quick jabs to his face.

Better get those arms up. Protect that ugly face of yours. Remember what happened last time? I’m too fast for ya. Get ‘em up. I want that right side. I need me a rib.

There have been sever
al times in my career that I felt like I could see a few seconds into the future. For those moments, I have always been grateful. I do realize that I don’t
really
see into the future, but it sure seems like it. In a boxing match, knowing what’s next is a huge plus. This was one of those times that everything happened slowly. I felt as if I had an hour to plan this series of punches.

As he raised his arms, Kelsey started to scream.

“Get those ribs, kid. Body! Body! Body! His liver, God damn it, his liver! Body!”
Kelsey screamed.

His arms came up.

Huge mistake, Wilson.

As he raised his arms, a right hook to his left side opened up his right side. A solid left hook caught him under his ribcage perfectly. His face distorted in pain. His elbows came down, exposing that chin.