Page 31 of The Fighter who Needed Me
The Cocky Bastard ran at him and tried to take a jump and punch him in the face, which Brooks dodged with a sidestep.
He threw a punch at the other man and got him in the side of his ribs, making the man gasp and step back, but Brooks was having none of it.
He did not become the champion of the ring by leaving his opponent to recover from the punch he threw.
He had a longer reach, and was able to punch, kick and throw right hooks at the man that wanted to be a champion but fell short.
He did get a few shots in, but Brooks was so used to small punches like the Cocky Bastard threw that he didn’t feel them at all and before long, the other man was winded and panting, his eye was swollen shut, and he was cradling his ribs.
Brooks knew he felt one snap when he had brought his knee up and pegged him hard in the ribs and knew that the Cocky Bastard would be in pain.
And with one last uppercut to the jaw, the other man fell back to the mat, blood flowing from his mouth and his eyes rolling back in his head.
Carter jumped into the ring and held Brooks’ hand up in victory, the cheers and screams once again heard as he came out of the fighting trance he had been in and Carter was yelling along with them.
Brooks stood quietly and let them scream and yell about his victory, but it fell short.
A fight like this was nice, and helped relieve some of the tension, but it was not what was going to help him.
He knew that a real fight would be the thing that would help.
He gave a slight nod to the crowd and walked back over to where his boots, and shirt were. Putting them on and then giving Carter a head nod.
He would be back tomorrow, but right now he still had so much tension that he needed to get it out.
Walking through the quiet streets of Whitechapel alone was never a smart move, especially at night, but Brooks was not worried.
He wanted whatever was lurking in the darkness to come at him.
And come at him they did, three men melted out of the shadows, large and intimidating to anyone else.
But to him, he welcomed it. “Oy, gov. Best hand over yer valuables.”
Brooks raised an eyebrow when he saw the knives in the men’s hands. “Or what? You are going to come after me?”
The men looked at each other, and they started to circle him, and Brooks smiled, ready for anything they were going to throw at him. They came at him, their knives ready and waiting to bite into his skin.
