The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,71

recognizes that strip of fabric.”

MacAvoy turned and spotted Lucinda Vermeal, her eyes wide and her hands over her mouth. Her father sat beside her, staring at her. MacAvoy looked at Alexander, and both men laughed before turning to their fighter.

“Take a drink, James,” MacAvoy said as Alexander held up a ladle of water. “Then put in your mouthpiece.”

James drank and took the cloth from MacAvoy’s hand, fitting it over his teeth.

“When I tell you to take a knee, you’re going to take a knee,” MacAvoy said and looked at Alexander. “Got your watch? Tell me at two minutes.”

James turned to face the opposite corner. Chambliss rang the bell, and James charged. Both men landed furious and powerful combinations of punches to their opponent’s face and midsection. Neither man stopped, both staying in the middle of the ring, throwing fists and grunting.

“One minute forty-five,” Alexander shouted as Jackson caught James on the chin, spinning him around. He recovered his feet quicker than expected by Jackson and doubled the man over with two hard punches right above his navel.

“Knee, James. Take a knee,” MacAvoy shouted and James dropped to one knee. He jumped up quickly and came to his corner. Alexander pulled the fabric out of his mouth and held the ladle to him. James drank while MacAvoy wiped the sweat from his face and chest.

“Dance, James. Make Jackson come after you.”

James went to the scratch in the center of the ring, bouncing on the balls of his feet. When the bell rang, James threw less punches and kept himself just out of Jackson’s reach, stopping occasionally to spar and then dancing away again.

“Six minutes,” Alexander shouted.

“We’re going to hold off another two minutes or so! James looks fine, and I think Jackson is starting to get winded.”

At nine minutes, MacAvoy shouted. “Take a knee, James.”

He took a knee, jumped to his feet, and headed to his corner. He drank water, and Alexander wiped the blood from his eye that was quickly swelling.

“Just another minute or so, James,” MacAvoy shouted. “When I call ‘now,’ go after him with everything you have.”

The bell rang, and James stayed light on his feet, dancing in and out of range while Jackson chased him from corner to corner. Both men landed a few punches. Jackson’s mouth was bleeding heavily, and James’s eye was nearly swollen shut.

“Now!” MacAvoy shouted.

And then the crowd was on their feet as James rained blows on Jackson, crowding him and punishing him with fast and cruel punches to the chin and to his midsection when Jackson raised his fists to cover his face.

“You can barely see his fists, they’re flying so fast,” Alexander shouted over the roar of the crowd stamping their feet and chanting, ‘Thompson.’ “Thirteen minutes.”

“Go, James, go,” MacAvoy shouted again. “Fin. Ish It.”

James, sensing his opponent’s weakened state, doubled the speed and power of his fists. This would be all he could give if Jackson did not go down.

James hit him hard with a left uppercut, Jackson’s head bouncing back on impact, followed by a roundhouse right to the jaw. Jackson spun on his heel and dropped. Chambliss hurried to the center of the ring and counted off, waiting for Jackson to stand. He managed to get to his knees but dropped back to ground within moments.

Chambliss held up his trumpet with one hand and James’s arm with the other. “Your champion, the bareknuckle champ of Philadelphia and all these United States, James Thompson!”

MacAvoy dropped to his haunches, wiping his eyes with his sleeve while Alexander shouted and danced, slapping MacAvoy on the back. The crowd stood and cheered for five long minutes while Chambliss held James’s arm above his head, turning to each section of stands.

Lucinda watched as James was turned to her section, her hands over her mouth, tears running down her face. Her father was still shouting and cheering and, strangely, shaking hands with all the men around them. James was alive! He was on his feet, and he was the victor! Nothing like that horrific night from months ago.

James spoke to Chambliss, and the promoter handed James the trumpet. He pulled a wad of fabric from his mouth and lifted the speaker.

“Tonight,” he said, and the crowd cheered wildly again. “Tonight is a special night for me.”

MacAvoy was signaling the crowd to quiet down, and amazingly they did. “Tonight is the last time you’ll see me in the ring. This was my last bout,” he said to boos from the crowd. “I’m retired now after