“Take control. Where’s your arms?” I heard Julian yell from the outside of the octagon.

Cheyanne was looming over me, punching my face and chest. It was hard to avoid the blows. I knew I needed to get control of the situation. I wrapped my legs around her body and tried to push her down.

“Arms. Arms. Arms,” Julian was screaming.

I moved my arms in between hers and pushed them out.

“Now fall to the side. Fall,” Julian yelled.

With the sounds of the arena and the adrenaline rush, it was not easy to hear what Julian was saying. I had to reach down deep and keep myself focused. When Julian yelled, it felt like my dad was standing next to him telling him what to say.

Right as I had control of her arms and planned to fall to the mat, the bell rang for the end of the third round. I sighed and it took me a second to catch my breath. When we stood up, we tapped fists before going to our corners.

There was blood running down my cheek. “I got it,” Brooks said, wiping my face with a towel. “You need to get control of this round to keep it tied.”

“I know.” I took a drink of water between breaths.

Charlie had two bags full of ice, one on my back and one on my chest. “Can you concentrate with Julian barking at you?”

“Yeah, it’s helping oddly enough.” I smiled and glanced over at Julian. He was talking to Chuck. “Fuck.”

Brooks moved my face in front of him. “Focus on what is happening now. You know what you need to do.” He rubbed some Vaseline on the cut just above my left eye. “You haven’t been kicking. Why?”

“I don’t know.” I pressed the back of my hand to my temple where the throbbing was taking up space.

“Leave it,” he said, grabbing my hand. “You need to figure it out and soon.” He stepped aside to let me stand up.

The bell rang, and I stepped forward to tap Cheyanne’s fist. Then she surprised me by throwing a high kick, but I ducked just in time.

“Your turn,” Julian yelled. “You can do better than that shit.”

We bounced around for several minutes. I attempted to throw a few punches but never made serious contact. The cut above my eye was pissing me off and would not stop bleeding. I did the stupid move and wiped my hand across my forehead, which smeared the blood into the corner of my eye. There was still one more round after this, and I was starting to show signs of weakness. I had to find it in me to get this done.

Without warning, Cheyanne leaped forward and threw out a left hook that landed squarely on my jaw. I heard a crack and stumbled back as the pain shot through my body. The fence may have stopped my fall, but Cheyanne never hesitated and jumped forward to pounce on me. I brought my arms up to keep her away from my face. I had a feeling my jaw was broken, but I didn’t have time to think about that right now. Something ignited from deep inside me, and I pushed her away, ignoring the pain. She yelled a few words and tried to throw another high kick. The moment she was in mid-spin for the kick, I was careful with how I grabbed her leg and held it with one arm. When she reached forward, I wrapped my arm around her neck, letting go of her leg. We both twisted and turned as she struggled to get out of the hold. As her back was against me, I tightened my grip around her neck with both my arms, and within seconds, I saw her tap her hand twice. I had just completed the perfect rear naked choke.

When the referee reached in to pull her away from my body, I fell to the mat.

Brooks sat down beside me. “You did it, Lily. You fucking did it.”

“Did I?” I whispered. The moment I spoke, the pain intensified around my jaw.

He helped me up and pointed to the on-sight doctor. “Grab her a shirt, Charlie.” He helped me over to the little wooden stool and bent down in front of me. “That was crazy.”

The doctor moved Brooks to the side and looked over my injuries for several minutes. He asked a few questions, but I could only nod yes or no. Then I was whisked to the center of the octagon where they would announce the winner.

The referee held both our hands. My body shook from excitement. I was still on an adrenaline rush and knew the moment I came down, the pain in my body was going to be insane. As the referee lifted my arm up and announced the new Bantamweight champion, the sounds in the arena were deafening. I found Chuck standing at the entrance to the octagon with a smile plastered on his face. How did he know this would happen? Was Julian right and the man was psychic?

Chuck Anders held up the belt and walked over. “I knew you were a winner, Lily.”

With my teeth clenched to avoid the pain when talking, I carefully said, “How?”

His words caught me off guard. “Your dad taught you well.” Then he placed the belt around my waist.

Cheyanne wrapped her arm around my neck, and we touched foreheads. “You good?”

“Yeah, you?” I said, almost inaudible.

“Yup. Good fight.” We bumped fists and she walked away.

Julian wrapped his arms around my waist. “Let’s get you to the hospital, Little Punisher.”

I turned to face him and wished I could talk at the moment. Maybe it was good thing I couldn’t because I really didn’t know what to say. Well, except did I really fight like my dad?

Was I really the Little Punisher?

One thing I did know, I was a fucking Bantamweight Champion.