Sucker Punch (The Submission Fighter Book 2) by Sophia Hampton Page A
Authors: Sophia Hampton
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that had abandoned him, to the man who had physically hurt Alice. The crowd began to scream, rising to their feet, as time ticked away slowly.
He could feel his opponent weakening, his grip around his waist letting go. But Micah wasn’t about to give him a free second to defend. With one last punch, seconds left on the clock, he struck a fierce blow.
The scene changed. He could feel the referee pull him off to inspect Roy. A hand dropped, tapping the ground. Men rushed into the octagon cage. Lights flashed and music blasted. But all he could hear was the sound of Alice calling his name over and over again.
His head and mind clear, he pushed through the referee’s attempt to lift his arm as the victor. He bypassed the sponsors, the coaches, and the journalists who had made their way inside for moments with him. He pushed at bodies until he found the exit, running down the stage’s steps. He found her in the crowd, being held back by a large security guard.
Her arms outstretched to him, as he threw the man to the side. She leapt into his arms, kissing his face and wiping away the blood and sweat that covered his eyes. Without a word, she took off her white cardigan sweater and pressed it to his forehead, as she kissed him over and over again.
Taking a breath, she pulled away. “Micah! I have to tell you something. I have to be brave.”
“You are brave. Alice, Alice, Alice… I am so sorry. I love you.” He screamed it over the sound of reporters swamping the couple and the crowd going mad over the sight of the winner out in the audience.
“What?” Alice knew what he had said, but she needed to hear it again. She needed confirmation.
He dropped her to her feet, her hand still holding the sweater to his face. He used his hand to gently grab the curve of her chin in his gloved hand. “Alice Cross, I love you. I love you. I love you!” He shouted it madly, not caring who could hear.
She dropped her sweater and leaned into his body. His chest was on fire against her cool face. Her tears mixed with the moisture on his abdomen. Alice pulled away from him once more and looked back up at him.
His face was full of joy, laughing with emotion. He knelt before her once again, bringing her face level with his. They kissed deeply, neither wanting this moment to end. Alice smiled in his arms and pulled back momentarily. He looked at her, confused.
“It’s about time,” she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. He grimaced; she’d touched a tender spot. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed apologetically. “I’m sorry!”
He shook his head, still smiling. “Don’t be,” he said, losing himself in her embrace. “This is just perfect.”
Read on for an excerpt from the breath-taking finale
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The sounds echo in my head. It’s my flesh — my teeth — my bones —my entire body being shaken violently, being torn from the outside in. My face —m y shoulder —m y ribcage being broken in half.
I have never heard a sound like it before. It’s not really something you could easily recognize from other sounds. But I’ve been here so many times now. I’ve felt the same water from the same puddle on my face, felt the grit and grime from the road tangling my hair. And I have seen his face. He’s missing a front tooth, and he has the most hideous tattoo on his forearm. And it hits me.
I will never escape this nightmare.
And then, just like that, as one man relents and stands up to let me go, he appears: the red-and-gold figure in my black-and-white world. He is bloodstained and tattered, and he looks more tired and weary than ever. The hooded sweatshirt covering his eyes give nothing away, but I can feel them staring at me. The fiery embers of whatever colors them pierce through me and burn the open wounds that scatter across my skin.
His glance, the way he looks down upon me with pity, says to me that he wants to help — or that he
He could feel his opponent weakening, his grip around his waist letting go. But Micah wasn’t about to give him a free second to defend. With one last punch, seconds left on the clock, he struck a fierce blow.
The scene changed. He could feel the referee pull him off to inspect Roy. A hand dropped, tapping the ground. Men rushed into the octagon cage. Lights flashed and music blasted. But all he could hear was the sound of Alice calling his name over and over again.
His head and mind clear, he pushed through the referee’s attempt to lift his arm as the victor. He bypassed the sponsors, the coaches, and the journalists who had made their way inside for moments with him. He pushed at bodies until he found the exit, running down the stage’s steps. He found her in the crowd, being held back by a large security guard.
Her arms outstretched to him, as he threw the man to the side. She leapt into his arms, kissing his face and wiping away the blood and sweat that covered his eyes. Without a word, she took off her white cardigan sweater and pressed it to his forehead, as she kissed him over and over again.
Taking a breath, she pulled away. “Micah! I have to tell you something. I have to be brave.”
“You are brave. Alice, Alice, Alice… I am so sorry. I love you.” He screamed it over the sound of reporters swamping the couple and the crowd going mad over the sight of the winner out in the audience.
“What?” Alice knew what he had said, but she needed to hear it again. She needed confirmation.
He dropped her to her feet, her hand still holding the sweater to his face. He used his hand to gently grab the curve of her chin in his gloved hand. “Alice Cross, I love you. I love you. I love you!” He shouted it madly, not caring who could hear.
She dropped her sweater and leaned into his body. His chest was on fire against her cool face. Her tears mixed with the moisture on his abdomen. Alice pulled away from him once more and looked back up at him.
His face was full of joy, laughing with emotion. He knelt before her once again, bringing her face level with his. They kissed deeply, neither wanting this moment to end. Alice smiled in his arms and pulled back momentarily. He looked at her, confused.
“It’s about time,” she said, punching him lightly on the shoulder. He grimaced; she’d touched a tender spot. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed apologetically. “I’m sorry!”
He shook his head, still smiling. “Don’t be,” he said, losing himself in her embrace. “This is just perfect.”
Read on for an excerpt from the breath-taking finale
Available Now!
The sounds echo in my head. It’s my flesh — my teeth — my bones —my entire body being shaken violently, being torn from the outside in. My face —m y shoulder —m y ribcage being broken in half.
I have never heard a sound like it before. It’s not really something you could easily recognize from other sounds. But I’ve been here so many times now. I’ve felt the same water from the same puddle on my face, felt the grit and grime from the road tangling my hair. And I have seen his face. He’s missing a front tooth, and he has the most hideous tattoo on his forearm. And it hits me.
I will never escape this nightmare.
And then, just like that, as one man relents and stands up to let me go, he appears: the red-and-gold figure in my black-and-white world. He is bloodstained and tattered, and he looks more tired and weary than ever. The hooded sweatshirt covering his eyes give nothing away, but I can feel them staring at me. The fiery embers of whatever colors them pierce through me and burn the open wounds that scatter across my skin.
His glance, the way he looks down upon me with pity, says to me that he wants to help — or that he
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