Jail Bait

.Chapitre Douze.

“Dale, your such a dick!” I yelled out as I ducked away from his leg as it was about to collide with my head. He chuckled and smirked at me, dodging my punch like a pro.

Ugh!

I was loosing my touch!

It was just Dale, I should be able to easily beat him in a fight and still have energy left over. But for some reason, there was no beating him. Maybe if I moved down a ring on the ladder...

Grinning, I kicked Dale onto his ass and turned around to face Cole. He looked up startled and I laughed.

“Come on Cole, let's see what you got,” I taunted him, with a signature smirk on my face. He shook his head and cracked his knuckles.

“I don't stoop that low. Only little boys fight girls, and as you see Reagan, this is all man.” he told me gesturing to his body with a cocky smile on his face. I snorted and crossed my arms across my chest. Dale took offense to what Cole said and began to rant on and on about how he wasn't a little boy and he had the parts to prove it.

That was the part of the conversation I gladly ignored.

“You know, I think your just scared,” I taunted Cole as I took off my new boxing gloves. I had to take the boxing gloves off, my hands felt suffocated and slick with sweat.

That was the only downside to using gloves, my hands didn't get as much free reign as they should, or deserved. The feel of the air on my hands was a welcome feeling. Sure, the gloves helped protect my hands and they were an amazing gift, but I was trained without gloves using them now was a foreign feeling I had to get used to.

And it was bound to take some time.

“You think I’m scared? I just don't fight girls, especially weak ones.” Cole taunted me as he stood up.

“Weak?” I flexed my arm and showed him my muscles, letting out a dissatisfied scoff. “This,” I said, pointing to my muscles, “isn't weak, and I can prove it to you.”

Weak? How dare Cole call me weak! I’ve been fighting since the age of 13, there was no way in hell I was weak.

Every fight I’ve been in I won, well, except for the first fight I’ve ever been in; not including the times I fought my my step-Father and lost...

Ignore those thoughts, Reagan, just ignore them. Shaking my troublesome thoughts away, a cocky grin made it's way onto my face.

“I didn't want to do this, but since your being so persistent...” Cole pushed up the sleeves of his guard shirt and undid the top buttons on it.

For a moment I debated on whether or not I wanted to use the gloves Ethan got me, or just wrap my hands. The gloves were no doubt expensive and I couldn't let Ethan waste that kind of money on me. With a final sigh, I placed the green gloves on my hands and got into a fighting stance.

Cole began to circle me and I followed his movements, so much for him trying to be intimidating.

“You know Cole, dancing in a circle like this is fun and all but how we --” my smart remark froze in my mouth when his fist flew through the air and almost his my nose. That tricky bastard!

I caught onto it at the last minute and advanced on him, pushing him back, making his loose a bit of footing. When stumbled and looked down, I took this as my chance and kicked him in the stomach, causing him to fall on his back.

I jumped on top of him and pinned his arms above his head.

“Say uncle.” I demanded, my breath turning back to normal a bit.