Page 109 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"Come on then."

I climbed through the ropes opposite him.

"You buying the beers after?"

"If I win."

"You've never beaten me."

"I've gotten close."

"You've hallucinated."

He grinned.

The grin lasted about fifteen seconds.

He came in fast. Always fast. Three sharp jabs. A hook. Low feint. Cross. He'd always relied on speed. Academy boxing. Military combat. Technical. Clean. Predictable.

I slipped the hook, stepped inside, and drove my shoulder into him. A short right to the ribs. His breath vanished with a sharp grunt. He stumbled backward, recovered, and came again. Faster this time.

"Still telegraphing your left," he laughed.

"So are you."

"What?"

I stepped into him before he'd even finished speaking. Body. Body. Head. The last punch landed square against the protector with a dull, satisfying thud. Derek folded.

"Jesus Christ."

He landed flat on the mat, one glove still hanging in the air like he'd forgotten gravity existed. I leaned over him.

"You alive?"

"Give me a minute."

"You've had one."

"I need another."

Mason looked at the stopwatch.

"Twenty-three seconds."

Derek looked offended.

"I wasn't ready."

"You were."

"I had a plan."

"It was a bad one."

Derek rolled onto his back.

"I hate both of you."