Chapter Ten
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“You hit like a kid,” I say when Kyle swings at me and misses. He’s around seventeen and a cocky little s**t. Too bad he doesn’t have the moves to back up his ego.
He circles me, but I don’t flinch.
“I bet I could knock you out,” he retorts.
“Dude, I’ve been waiting thirty minutes. Make your move.” I keep my defensive stance and watch him closely.
He aims for my face again, but I block him. Next, he swings an uppercut to my jaw, but I hardly flinch.
“Put some power into your punches,” I direct. “You have the positions down but no confidence. You chicken out as soon as you—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Kyle fakes a punch, and as I dodge it, he kicks my knee and forces me down. Instinctively, I hold up my hands to cover my face, but Kyle’s in too much shock to
