Page 44 of By Submission
Round two ended up an even exchange. Mark had a moment against the fence where he reversed my takedown attempt, getting me on my back in his guard. It was a dangerous position but I was able to lock him down, neutralizing his ability to strike and waiting for the momentum to stall. The canvas was rough against my skin beneath my shoulders.
Stay structured,I reminded myself, feeling the grounding presence of Val’s conviction in my mind. I managed to bridge, scramble and reverse the position. Just before the round ended I was back in top control, landing barely enough measured strikes to ensure another dominant round.
Arlo appeared pleased with my performance over the next two rounds, and yet he still remained tense. “He’s frustrated, Kaden. He’s running on empty. Now’s not the time to get cute. Finish him.” The sound of his command shifted something inside me. I stood up, and I was ready for whatever Mark had for me.
The bell for the final round sounded, and Mark rushed me instantly, not with a technical attack, but with a wild and desperate energy. We met in the center, exchanging heavy blows. I felt a brief flash of red rage at his continued, unearned aggression. We clinched tight, our bodies pressed against each other in a frantic, sweaty ballet. The referee stepped in to warn us about our heads clashing.
In a moment of proximity, Mark leaned into my ear, his voice a guttural, venomous whisper. “You think your little silver collar fixes anything? She wanted it. All of it. She led me on, then cried foul. She’s a liar and a user. You better watch your back.”
The air left my lungs in a silent swoosh. What should have gotten him a warning only enhanced my fighting ability. His words were direct and calculated, insinuating her abuse was her fault and her pain was manufactured for attention.
The rage which had been coiled beneath my skin for months, restrained by discipline and structure, broke loose. I ripped myself free from the clinch. Mark was already dropping his guard, a sick, satisfied smirk on his face, believing his psychological attack had worked.
He was wrong.
I threw the jab. Not a clinical, point scoring jab like I had for the first two rounds, but a sharp vicious blow that snapped his head back, stunning him and freezing the smirk on his face. He didn’t have time to recover. I followed up immediately with a right cross. It was pure, not perfect, and it delivered the weightof every promise I had ever made to Val. It connected with the side of Mark’s jaw with a sickening, audible crack.
Mark dropped instantly. His body collapsed backward against the canvas. His eyes rolled up, vacant, and he was out before he hit the ground. The sound of the canvas absorbing his dead weight was deafening. The referee immediately jumped in, waving off the fight and signaling a K.O.
I stood over him for a brief and powerful second. Breathing heavily, I let the raw energy drain from my system. The rage was gone and replaced by a crystalline calm. The ref grabbed my arm and raised it high as the arena exploded. The noise was a glorious celebration of my victory and Val’s.
As the medical team attended to Mark, I stood in the center of the octagon, nodding at Arlo who was screaming words of congratulations. This chapter was finally over.
Val burst into the octagon, her eyes filled with pride and joy. Her own hard-won victory was still radiating from her. Ignoring the photographers, I lunged toward her and swung her around in circles before we embraced in a bone crushing hug. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her body fitting perfectly against mine. “You were magnificent, sir,” she whispered fiercely against my ear. “You did it.”
I buried my face in her hair, breathing in her essence. The last powerful surge of adrenaline stabilized into sheer and utter devotion. We held onto each other tight.
The crowd noise faded into a distant hum. All that was left was the rhythm of our joined heartbeats. The darkness was over. We had won. even though I had finally earned my own gold belt, I realized the relationship I was building, with the brave woman in my arms, was even more precious than any dreams I may have had before.
Epilogue
Val
Three years had passed. The time felt like both a lifetime and an instant all at once.
I stood in the doorway of the dining room, taking a moment to breathe it all in. The room was intimate, dressed with soft lighting and flowers, and smelled faintly of expensive cognac and wine.
After the fight against Mark, Kaden decided that wasn’t the life he wanted to live anymore, and he continued spending his days working at Arlo’s gym as a trainer and co-owner. My days were no longer spent running from fear, but facing it down. I was now instructing my own self-defense classes twice a week, teaching women not only how to block a punch, but how to recognize the shift in power preceding an attack.
When I wasn’t teaching classes, I was exploring my genuine passion of volunteering at the local domestic violence shelter. I saw a piece of myself in every woman who walked through those doors. The fear, the shame, the crushing feeling of unchosen vulnerability. Now, I could offer them a safe space and providetangible information and resources while also being living proof of a life built on structure and consent was possible.
Kaden had told me this evening was a special dinner to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the shelter program I had started. Inside the room, he stood there, smiling, looking impossibly sharp in a charcoal suit. Across from him was Summer, and he announced we were still waiting for a few people from the shelter and gym to arrive, including Arlo, who was apparently bringing the food, too.
“There’s my girl!” Summer rushed me and gave me the biggest hug. “Gosh Val, you sure do clean up well.”
We laughed and settled in. The evening unfolded perfectly. Kaden was celebrating everything that truly mattered to me, praising my dedication to the women at the shelter.
As Summer recounted a hilarious story from her latest dating debacle, Kaden reached under the table and rested his hand on my thigh. I glanced over and our eyes locked. I knew that look and the atmosphere shifted. Summer must have sensed it too, because she quickly wrapped up her story with a large sip of wine and shifted her attention to our direction. The rest of the guests followed suit.
Kaden rose slowly, pulling me up with him. He reached up and traced the silver collar resting against my neck. “You came to me from a world where control had been stolen, begging for me to find time to train you. You didn’t even know if I had a spot for you, you trusted your gut and followed your heart.” He took a deep breath, and for once, seemed nervous. “Now, you stand here as a pillar of strength, having built a fortress of consent for yourself and other women,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. He stepped back and looked at me, his eyes full of love and a vulnerability I sometimes forgot he still possessed.
“I have kept my promise to you and honored it since the day we started dating. Now, I want to expand my promise. I wantthe world to know you are mine and I am irrevocably yours, in every way that matters.” He reached into his inner pocket and produced a simple platinum band with a gorgeous sapphire stone embedded into it. “Val,” he whispered, his eyes shining. “Will you marry me?”
Tears blurred my vision. The answer was immediate and unwavering. “Yes, Kaden. Always and forever, yes.”
He didn’t hesitate and slipped the ring onto my finger before pulling me close. Our lips met in a long, deep devoted seal on the contract of a lifetime.
