Take Me On

Chapter 80

West

“Knees, West! Use your knees!” It’s the first clear voice in the chaos. A knee goes up, then another. A sharp hit into the ribs and Matt stumbles back. I push off the cage, my legs more Jell-O than muscle, but I’ve got to keep going. Three rounds. Three rounds for Haley.

The bell rings and the ref slides in between us. The world circles and I raise my arms over my head and press my forehead against the cage, fighting for each intake of air. Everything throbs and the exhaustion is enough to cause a loss of consciousness.

Then there’s a face on the other side of the fence and I swear I’m fucking hallucinating.

“Where the hell is your guard?” she shouts.

Damn if she doesn’t sound like Haley. “I’m tired.”

“Do I look like I care? You’re getting the hell pounded out of you. If you want to tap out, then tap out, but don’t stand there and let him win.”

I glance around as best as I can with my eye swelling. Does the world see me talking to the hallucination? Does no one give a fuck I’m losing my mind?

She’s beautiful and strikingly real. “I love you.”

Her fingers curl around the fence and touch mine. The coolness of her fingertips against my hot skin causes me to close my eyes. Fuck, she seems so real. “Open your eyes, West.”

I do and those dark, gorgeous eyes dig deep into mine.

“John, we’ve got a problem.”

There’s commotion behind me and a hand goes on my arm. “Turn toward me, son.”

The voice is John’s, but I’m not interested. I’m only interested in what’s in front of me...only interested in her touch. I’m fucking lost in my own mind, but I don’t care. If I turn away, she’ll be gone and I can’t live through that again.

“West,” she says calmly. “Let the doctor look at you.”

“You’ll go away,” I answer. “I don’t want you to go away.”

She presses her nails into me, penetrating deep enough to cause pain. “I’m real.”

The air slams out of my body and I lose my grip on the fence. “You’re what?”

John slides in front of me. “What’s your name?”

“West Young.” I yank my head to the right to see Haley again. “She’s here.”

“She’s here,” he repeats.

Another man blocks my view of Haley and he takes my hands. “Look at me.”

I do. He asks a few more questions and I answer while trying to shake the cobwebs out of my head.

“Can you fight?” he asks.

Haley holds on to the fence and stares at me like she’s actually worried. Like she’s actually in love with me. “Fuck yeah.”

I swing around and face Matt again in the center of the ring with the ref between us. The son of a bitch glances over at Haley, and when he meets my eyes again, I smile. “You ain’t got nothing.”

“Clean fight, boys,” says the ref.

“What the fuck did you say?” demands Matt.

I hold out my fist and Matt bumps it. “I said you ain’t got nothing. No girl and no hit.”

We break apart and I keep my arms at my sides. Haley spent months drilling it into my brain to keep my head on straight, to keep my emotions in check, because if I lost it, I’d lose the game plan and the fight. The same has to be true with the bastard across from me.

The yelling, the cheering, the world fades out and a sense of calm washes over me. Two things remain in my world: the asshole in the cage and Haley’s voice. “Guard up, Young.”

It’ll go up—when I’m ready.

Matt and I dance around each other and I pump my fist into my chest. “You ain’t got nothing.”

Matt jerks with the statement and I throw my arms forward and back, begging for the hit. “Nothing. Hit me all damn day. You ain’t got it.”

Abandoning his form, Matt lunges and I allow the free shot to my head. I turn with the impact and jump back at the same time. Fire consumes his eyes when I smile at him. “Nothing.”

His crew yells at him and I laugh because they see what Matt doesn’t. I’m mentally taking the show, but Matt’s lost in my words. I nod my chin for him to try again, but this time when he attacks, I pull up my guard, watch as he lowers his, then ram a two-one combination into his face.