Fight Night

The fight official applied his signature to Bridget’s wraps and then stepped aside for Ryan to finish strapping on her gloves. Bridget swayed to the music on her headphones, her eyes closed. Her thoughts raced behind her deceptively placid demeanor.

Fight your fight, Birdie. That’s all you have to do.

She felt two strong hands grip her wrists and opened her eyes to meet Ryan’s whiskey gaze.

“You got this.”

“Yeah, I do.” She grinned at him, and he patted her shoulder.

“Bridget.” Colin stepped inside the door. “You’re ready.”

She grinned at the big former champion. “Yep. That’s what I told Ryan.”

He nodded. “Good.”

Another fight official poked his head into the small dressing room. “Doherty, you’re up.”

Bridget blew out a breath and hopped off the table. She rolled her neck and shoulders. “Let’s go.”

The DS Fight Club corner team followed Bridget down the hall and out to the cage. She didn’t really even hear the crowd because she was so focused on the octagonal cage at the end of the corridor. She handed her hoodie to Colin and toed her shoes off before giving each of her corner members a tight hug. Then the match official applied Vaseline to her face and proceeded with an obligatory frisk and a glove check. With a final nod to the official, Bridget bounded up the steps to the octagon.

While she continued to shift her weight from foot to foot, she focused her attention on the woman advancing down the aisle. Bridget had thought a lot about Hanna Kowalczyk during the weeks between the press conference and the weigh-in and had decided that regardless of how she felt about her as a fighter, she pitied the woman who accepted another woman’s engagement ring. She’d wondered more than once if Hanna knew that that solitaire had once graced Bridget’s ring finger.

Hanna entered the cage, and soon the announcer was introducing the two fighters, the man pointing first at Bridget and then at Hanna. The two women moved to the center of the cage, the announcer asked them if they were ready to fight, and then they touched gloves, which shocked the shit out of Bridget. She was not expecting niceties at all.

Hanna started out aggressive, as usual, kicking at Bridget and attempting to take her down. Bridget kept her hands up and her head down, looking for an opening. By the time the first bell sounded, round one ended with neither fighter knocking the other down and very few shots landed.

Bridget sat on a stool, and Ryan put ice on her back, cooling her down as Paddy shot rapid-fire advice at her for the next round. Sixty seconds passed quickly, and the buzzer sounded, so both sets of cornermen moved from the cage and the fighters began again. The next round went much the same as the first until the last ninety seconds, when Bridget got Hanna’s back to the cage and put her in a clinch hold, her hands around the back of Hanna’s neck. The round ended with Bridget pulling Hanna’s head down and driving her knee into the other fighter’s side while delivering a few punishing elbows to her face.

“Good aggression, good aggression,” Paddy complimented her as Ryan took care of a small cut above Bridget’s eye where Hanna made a fortuitous strike.  “You know she doesn’t like being punched. Keep her in the clinch, Birdie, and you got this.”

Bridget nodded, the buzzer sounded, and she leapt off the stool, ready to do battle. She could tell Hanna was tiring and used that to her advantage, mentally thanking Paddy for making her spend what she earlier considered an excessive amount of time building up her cardio on the Jacob’s ladder machine.

Bridget moved into Hanna’s space and readied to hit with another clinch hold, when Hanna charged her, grabbing her around the waist and spinning. The two women fell to the mat, and Bridget knew she had to get back on her feet if she wanted to win this match.

“Fucking bitch,” Hanna growled in her ear. “You need to stay down.”

Bridget struggled to get to her feet, elbowing and kneeing Hannah as hard as she could to loosen the other woman’s hold. She knew there were only moments left in the fight, and if she could last until the final bell, she could win on points. Hanna’s arm slipped, and Bridget popped up, only to bend and punch Hanna in the face once, twice, three times before the final buzzer sounded.

Bridget rolled off her opponent, and both women held their arms in the air in victory. Ryan, Paddy, and Colin came into the cage and began wiping Bridget down and pulling a T-shirt over her head. Colin wore his usual inscrutable expression, but Ryan and Paddy both beamed like idiots, and Bridget couldn’t help but grin back.

The last of Bridget’s blows had opened up some ugly cuts on Hanna’s face, and Bridget and the DS Fight Club cornermen milled around the cage until the cutman got Hanna’s bleeding under control. Bridget felt good about the fight, but she’d also felt good about her last fight. Finally, Hanna pushed herself off the stool, and Bridget joined her and the announcer in the middle of the cage.

“The official scoring of Hanna ‘Killa’ Kowalczyk versus Bridget ‘Pressure Drop’ Doherty—the judges scored 28–28, 29–29, and 29–30. The winner, by majority draw, is Bridget Doherty!”

Bridget collapsed onto the ground, her hands splayed on the floor of the octagon. She said a silent prayer of thanks and then popped up. She impulsively grabbed Paddy in a hug, and then Ryan and Colin joined in. Tears streamed down Bridget’s face, and she struggled to regain her composure before Matt stuck the microphone in her face.

“How does it feel to have a rematch some five years after the fact?”

“It feels good to meet her again. But I’ll say that Hanna is a great competitor, a great fighter, and I look forward to meeting her in the octagon as a featherweight.”

“Girl, running to the press conference isn’t going to make it end any faster,” Colin said with a laugh.

Bridget grinned over her shoulder but didn’t slow down any. She was ready to get this presser over with and then get to Foley’s to celebrate. She couldn’t wait to see Nolan.

No, she couldn’t wait to climb all over Nolan. They’d been good for the last four weeks of her camp, sending flirty photos but nothing too risqué. She was ready to be risqué. Bridget was always revved up after a fight, and a win? Yeah, she hoped Nolan ate his Wheaties this morning.

Bridget, Colin, and Paddy sat down at the banquet table, and thankfully, the press conference started on time. She answered some questions about what she thought was next and about her next opponent, including Colin and Paddy in the discussion of the new women’s featherweight class, knowing that, as the owners of DS Fight Club, they had a vested interest in attracting more fighters. They answered a few more questions, and then her portion of the conference ended.

Bridget and the DS Fight Club crew passed Hanna and Jett Raptor as they left the conference room, and Hanna rammed Bridget, hard, on the shoulder.

“What the fuck, lady?” Bridget rubbed her upper arm as Hanna moved into her personal space.

“Stay the fuck away from him,” Hanna spat. “Just remember, you may have won the fight, but I have your man.”

Bridget gawped at Hanna and then threw back her head and laughed. “Bitch, please. Ask yourself what kind of man gives his new fiancée his ex-wife’s engagement ring.” And she pushed by Hanna, leaving her looking like a goldfish gasping for breath.