77

0 1 0
                                    

Later that night, I lay in bed, still shaken up, imagining the worst–case scenario.

What if that really had been a shark? Dayne could have been in serious trouble and there was nothing I could do.

My thoughts drift to Dayne's approaching fight.

I know Dayne is undefeated, but The Mankiller has a reputation. But maybe I'm just worrying too much...

A peak of curiosity leads me to pull my phone out and look up Ike Levine, better known as The Mankiller.

Here's a clip from his most recent fight.

The screen shows the menacing fighter with fists like iron punching his opponent. The other boxer is massive, a beast of a man, and still doesn't stand a chance against Ike Levine's speed and power. Even as his opponent is stumbling to the ground, The Mankiller doesn't let up. He falls to the ground with a sickening thud, completely motionless. His opponent doesn't move. The referee reaches the ten count and The Mankiller snickers wickedly. The crowd cheers with a mix of some boos. A reporter shoves a mic in Ike Levine's face, who is the epitome of cocky.

Reporter: What do you contribute to your victory today?

Levine: It's simple math. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I click out of the video with a heavy sigh and a renewed ache in my chest.

If the Mankiller could put a man that big into a come, what could he do to Dayne?

Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm out of bed and rifling for something more...comfortable to change into.

If I'm going to Dayne's room to surprise him, I need to wear something to capture his attention. And asking him to break off his match with Ike Levine is sure to get him riled up. 

Her Outfit:

Her Outfit:

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A Fighting ChanceWhere stories live. Discover now