Fight Like A Girl (Part One) by Dawn Pendleton Page A

My
muscles screamed at the pain, but I wasn’t one to back down from a
fight. I took a deep breath as I played the fight out in my head
before I made a move. It was a tactic I used and one that made me
stronger. I predicted my opponent’s moves and nine times out of
ten, they followed through just as I thought they would. It was a
rare occasion when an opponent surprised me.
    Once I saw the fight the way I wanted it to
go in my mind, I acted. Jeff’s legs had me pinned, one on each side
of my hips. I managed to get my left leg up in the air without him
noticing and hooked it around his chest, pulling him off me, toward
the ground. My other leg hooked him as well and he slammed into the
ground. I pulled my legs back and rolled to the side. I jumped to
my feet.
    Jeff was stunned for a minute and then he was
on his feet, the two of us circling one another. It was a dance,
almost poetic, if I allowed myself to disengage that way. He took a
few paltry shots. I knew he didn’t want to hurt me, but I also knew
he wouldn’t give up simply because I was a girl. I had to best him;
that was the only way to end the madness.
    We fought mildly, only striking when
absolutely necessary. He had at least fifteen pounds on me, which
wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me question whether or not I
could take him. I went down, my aim to swipe his feet out from
under him, but he jumped, anticipating the move. As I stood again,
I considered the people around us, who were now thoroughly
engrossed in our fight.
    The gym was small and locally owned. Freddie
was a sweet old man, though he could be a hard-ass when he needed
to be. He let me train in the gym for a full six months before he
made me pay. It was his way of seeing if I was worth my weight, he
told me. I guessed he liked what he saw, since it was Freddie who
helped me get my first fight. I owed him a lot. I chanced a glance
to his office and he was in the doorway, leaning on frame, arms
crossed over his chest. A slight smirk graced his lips. I wasn’t
sure if he was impressed or agitated, but I forced my eyes back to
Jeff.
    He glared at me. “Just give up. You’re a
skinny bitch from the wrong side of town, Max. You and I both know
you won’t win this one.” His words bugged me, but they only drove
me to fight harder.
    “Bring it, Cowboy,” I said, knowing it would
irritate him. Jeff was from Texas, though no one who knew him would
ever guess. He kept that part of his life behind him. Bringing it
up was my way of distracting him.
    He shook his head. “Don’t call me Cowboy ,” he all but growled at me.
    As if sensing my decision, a few of the girls
who trained at the gym started chanting cowboy . I laughed at
their antics, but Jeff turned to a particularly loud redhead near
him, probably to give her hell. I made my move.
    I tucked my head down and rushed him, my
shoulder hitting his stomach. We went down together, but I was
faster than him. I managed to get him turned over to his stomach
against the cement and pulled both arms behind him, fully pinning
him.
    “Goddammit, Max!” he yelled, but I refused to
let go. He let out a slew of curses and I smiled as my comrades
started clapping. Most of the fighters in the gym were ladies, but
there were a few men, too. I felt good getting their approval.
    Jeff struggled against my hold. “Listen up,
Jeff,” I started, plenty loud enough for him to hear me over the
incessant clapping. “You work for me. And if you come after me like
that again, I won’t hesitate to remove your balls from your body.
Got it?”
    He huffed. “Fine. I got it. Get the fuck off
me.”
    I jumped up and away from him, just in case
he decided to pursue me, but he was slow to get up. His body was
obviously hurting. Once he was upright, he glared at me. “This
isn’t over,” he promised.
    I smiled at him. “Looks to me like it
is.”
    He turned away, heading toward the men’s
locker room. As he walked away, I threw my arms up in a very Rocky fashion