Chapter 71: Chapter Seventy-One

“You can’t be serious,” Gloria said, looking across the mat at her opponent.

“Eh, he’s not that big. Trust me, I’ve seen him shower,” Frankie said with a smile that was meant to make her laugh. She didn’t. He looked back down at the wrap he’d begun on her left hand. “That’s when you say, ‘You’ve seen him shower?’ and I say, ‘Hell yeah I have, wouldn’t you take a peek?’ and you go, ‘No, why on earth would I do that?’ and I go…”

“Frankie,” Gloria said with a sigh that begged him to shut up.

He shook his head and chuckled while she gulped down a lump of fear and stared at the man finishing his own wrapping. He was large. Well over six-feet, with arms twice the size of her thigh and scars along his torso that spoke of years living on the streets and picking fights with men armed with more than their fists. His eyes lifted, dark shadows that took in all light and gave nothing back. His eyes dropped over her slim frame and he smirked.

“Yeah, buddy, this’ll be easy for you,” Gloria said under her breath.

Frankie gripped her chin hard, forcing her gaze back to him. His face was filled with disappointment and annoyance. “Stop it.”

“Look at him! You couldn’t sign me up against a woman or something?”

Frankie shook his head and moved on to her right hand. “Right, of course, I’ll just make sure to send a memo to Sergei and Ivan: only send your frailest women. Gloria’s feeling a bit insecure.”

“But…”

“I’ve seen you fight men like him. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. You have the training. You just need practice and to trust in yourself. Look at me,” Frankie demanded, stepping back slightly and holding his hands out. “I mean, other than being ridiculously, mouth-watering, panty-dropping…”

“Frankie.”

“I’m smaller than most. No matter how many weights I lift, I can’t bulk up. But I’m faster, more agile, more strategic.” He touched her chin and lifted, softer this time. “Use your talents against his weight and brawn.”

“You done with your little plaything, Donati?” Myers asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’d like to get this over with. I got my own lady waiting.”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “Relax, Myers. Appreciate the extra time while you can still say you have a lady. Once mine pummels you into the ground, I have a feeling she’ll fade into the crowd trying to hide her shame.”

Myers’ feet stalled. He took a few steps forward, the shadow he cast lengthening in a way that would make any cartoon character gulp violently and their eyes bug out of their heads. “Just make sure when I knock her down, you don’t lose your cool and come at me. She signed herself up for this.”

Frankie chuckled. “Whatever you say, behemoth.” Frankie turned his back, cupped Gloria’s cheeks in both hands and sealed his mouth over hers until she was forced to grip his forearms to keep from melting to the floor. The crowd around them hooped and hollered at the display. He pulled away, dropping one last quick kiss as if he couldn’t help himself. “Be quick about it. Don’t dally. Get him to the ground.”

Gloria swallowed hard and nodded. He let go of her and stepped between the ropes of the ring. She glanced around the crowd and noticed Nora and the triplets watching from the bar. The announcer stepped up to declare the next match between herself and Myers. He warned everyone that the betting would come to a close once the bell rang. Gloria looked up toward the VIP section and noticed Mr. Accardi and Leo leaning against the railing, watching the ring with great interest. Accardi said something to Leo, who shrugged and nodded.

“Focus, Vixen,” Frankie warned her from over her shoulder. She nodded and took a deep breath. “Use your strengths. Don’t let him get you on the ground.”

The announcer walked out of the ring, and each step he took made her heart rate escalate. By the time he slid between the ropes, her breathing was too fast to successfully pull air into her lungs, and her heart felt close to tachycardia. This wasn’t like the other times she’d been forced to fight. That was for survival, out of instinct. This? She had to fight for the win, not her life.

The bell dinged, making her jump. The crowd roared. Myers moved. She braced, but not quickly enough. Myers’ fist connected with her cheek, and she hit the mat hard. Gloria noticed his foot and rolled in time to avoid it hitting her stomach. She jumped up and swiveled to face the incoming force. She tried to control her breathing, remember her limited training. He was a bull of a man; he could quite literally squash her if she let him. She dodged one fist and then another. He kicked; she evaded. He bellowed and tried to wrap his arms around her; she dropped and sprang between his legs. She spun on the balls of her feet and watched him. His own breathing was ragged; sweat poured down his skin. It was then it hit her: he was gym-muscle. He looked imposing with his scars and abnormal size, but it was all for show. He used intimidation to take down his opponents. All she needed was to use her stamina to wear him down.

He ran at her, and she swiped her leg. He stumbled forward and caught himself on the ropes right in front of Frankie, who smirked and blew him a kiss. Myers spun, and his eyes bulged as he realized she was running at him. He reached forward; she ducked right. Then she jumped onto his back. She latched her arms around his neck and squeezed. Myers yelled and then fell backward. He landed on top of her with all his weight, and she lost her grip. She laid on the mat for a moment, trying to remember how to breathe as he got to his feet. His foot came down at her, and she groaned as she rolled out of the way. Not quick enough. His foot landed on her side, and she choked, but she didn’t stop. She kept rolling as he continued to pound his feet into the mat, chasing after her.

Once her breath was restored, she flipped backward, allowing her enough time to avoid his feet and get to her own. She swayed slightly and tasted blood on her lip as she held her hands up, ready to defend herself.

“Get him on the ground, Gloria!” Frankie yelled above the crowd.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she muttered under her breath as she ducked to avoid another haymaker.

What she didn’t see was his extended leg. As she ducked, he tripped her. She stumbled forward and hit the mat. She wheezed as she tried to get up, but then his foot planted in her back. He knelt down, removed his foot and wrapped his right arm around her neck. Gloria lost the air to breathe. She knew she could tap out. She’d witnessed it happen from the nurses’ station dozens of times. She imagined disappointing Frankie in that way: the man who never tapped out. Her vision blurred.

“Tap out, bitch,” Myers growled behind her.

Gloria felt his heat at her back. She could feel his breath against her neck. She felt helpless, vulnerable, weak. Just as she had her entire life.

“Maybe you don’t want to tap out cause you like feeling a real man on top of you, huh?” Myers mocked in a voice low enough that no one else would hear.

That was the final straw. The last shred of her dignity. The card that every man in her life pulled when she was at her lowest. As if her sexuality was the core of her being. As if every woman on this earth was here merely to find a good dick to take up the ass. Gloria reminded herself where she was and what she was doing. She was here to hone her skills for a real threat, a real man with more than muscles and stale breath. She visualized it was Sergei holding her windpipe closed. She released her hold on his arm and jerked her elbow back until it contacted the soft tissue of his stomach. His hold lessened for a brief moment before it tightened further. She repeated the action in quick succession until his hold wavered enough for her to drop her chin and sink her teeth into his arm.

Blood flooded her mouth, but she didn’t let go until he did. Rather than roll away, she shoved backward hard enough to send him to his butt. She jumped on his stomach and wasted no time sending her fists into his face. Her knuckles cracked against his skull, but they weren’t enough to incapacitate him. He backhanded her, and she fell to the side. Gloria didn’t stay down long, nor did she give him time to get to his own feet. Instead she jumped onto his back and locked her hands around his neck. He staggered up to his feet anyway.

“You… really… want to… try this… again?” Myers wheezed.

He fell backward, but this time she had been expecting it. She locked her ankles around his torso this time, refusing to break her hold. His elbow connected with her stomach, but she remained firm. Her muscles burned. Her wrists popped. The weight on top of her threatened to steal her own air, but she held steady. She tightened her grip in just the right spot to dig into his windpipe. His struggle started to lessen. Just like her, he had no desire to tap out. He thought she would weaken, but with each frail attempt to break her hold, she grew more confident. Then he went completely limp. Still, she did not break her hold. He could be bluffing. She tightened her grip.

Her ears rang. She could not hear the crowd. She could not hear the announcer. She could not hear Frankie. She continued to hold her captive as though she were a boa constrictor set on eating for the first time in months. Something tried to break her grip, and she thought it was Myers attempting to come back to life. She sneered and her arms protested as she refused to give in. Two fingers appeared in her field of vision and snapped. Gloria blinked. The hush of the crowd broke through her trance. The announcer declaring her victory ricocheted through her mind. Frankie’s voice echoed through her eardrums as her vision cleared and she noticed his smiling face hovering above her.

“Let go, Vixen. Killing him will lead to loads of paperwork we don’t have time for.”

Gloria released her hold and Myers’ limp body fell to the side, allowing her to take in her own breath. She noticed Valorie run onto the mat with the emergency kit they reserved for critical cases which may require restarting the loser’s heart. Frankie squatted down beside her and cupped her swollen cheek, making her hiss.

“Can you stand?”

“I… I don’t know,” she said honestly. Every muscle cramped. Her lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen. Her bones felt bruised.

“I’ll help you stand, but you need to walk off this mat, or your win won’t mean anything,” he told her, holding his hand out.

She took it and relied heavily on his own balance to stand. The crowd chanted around her, pleasantly surprised the tiny woman could take down a man twice her size. Frankie guided her through the ropes and hopped down so he could hold his arms up to assist her. He held her against his side, protecting her from the crowd trying to congratulate her.

“Ay, yo, Frankie!” the man at the gambling desk called as they passed. “I got your winnings!”

“Give me a bit. Let me take care of my girl and I’ll come to collect!”

The man laughed and shook his head. “Five minutes then?”

“Winnings?” Gloria asked.

“Yeah, a little thing like you. The odds were ten to one,” Frankie told her as he led her through the staff hallway toward his office.

“How much did you bet?” she asked, mind still in a fog.

“I bet a million.”

“What?!” she screeched as he unlocked his door.

“You think that’s impressive. Accardi bet ten.”