Landon said, although he had his mouthpiece on and his words were muffled. The other boxer grinned, the bling on his mouth guard flashing. “Landon Bosoce, everyone. He’s a motherfucking beast,” the announcer said, loud enough that the crowd started growing wild. The boxing match was illegal, and being held in the basement of a meat factory right outside of town. The factory owner allowed them to have the match in exchange for a large chunk of money. The other boxer came toward Landon, but he ducked as a massive gloved hand came right at his face. He moved left, then right. Swinging his own fist out, he connected with the muscular abdomen of his opponent, feeling strength when the other man grunted and stumbled back. They were both bleeding, the other guy from his mouth and a cut on his cheek, and Landon from a cut above his eye. The sound of Landon’s heart beating was in his ears, and the smell of sweat, blood, and aggression quickly filled the room as the fight progressed. Landon swung out again, connected with the guy’s jaw, and loved that his head cracked back.
