Saldano vs. Rodriguez - Queens of the Ring

Lorenza had been right about one thing - Carmen was a lucky girl. Lucky her heart wasn't giving out after the strain it had just been put through. Lucky she could still move her wrist, even with the pain coursing through it. Lucky Lorenza couldn't take the roll for five more seconds, which was probably all Carmen had left in her.

Lucky, lucky, lucky indeed. Not that you could tell from her pulped face.

"1...2...3..."

She took her time as the referee did her count and the audience joined in, all eyes on Lorenza - except for Carmen's father and Army. They looked her way, concern etched on their faces. Did they see her flinch from that last punch? Could they tell? Was she looking that bad in there? She felt okay, just winded. She could continue. She was just hoping she wouldn't have to.

"4...5...6...

Carmen broke into her fighting stance as Lorenza started to stir, knowing full well that she was about to get up. Carmen had no idea what it would take to put Lorenza down for ten seconds - would a sledgehammer even do the trick? Whatever would, it wasn't her right hook. She knew better.

"...7...8...

Not even nine. Two seconds away. Two.

Carmen tightened her fists as Lorenza spoke and the referee wisely got out of the way. The last place any sane human wanted to be was between them. "Did I lose, Saldano?" Her eyes narrow, almost pure slits. "Did I, really?"

With that Carmen moved back in and started going back at Lorenza, starting up another Dempsey Roll, going through the motion, then putting the breaks on it halfway through out a simple one-two combination, trying to mess with her mind and make an opening.

Lorenza would not try to dance around Carmenâ€s question. Not in the slightest. “Yes,” she replied, coldly and simply, as the referee moved out of the way. She enunciated so that her words were crystal clear even through her mouthguard. “Yes, Rodriguez, you did lose. Donâ€t you remember? Or have I hit you so hard that your memory is all gone now?” She pounded her gloves together. “The judges said you lost. The crowd saw you lose. And you know you lost. Have you ever stopped thinking about me since that day?” Lorenza smirked. “Kinda cute, how obsessed you are.”

Of course, Lorenza was projecting some of her own emotions onto Carmen. But that didnâ€t mean that her trash talk was unfounded. Carmen had called her out for a rematch, long after the both of them had retired from their sport. She had not forgotten, even after two years had passed.

When Carmen came at her again, Lorenza would backpedal, drifting to her left so that she was no longer backing up against the ropes. She raised her gloves in front of her face as she retreated, and as Carmen began to roll again. Lorenza would brace herself, but the expected barrage of hooks didnâ€t come. Instead, Carmen threw out a simple one-two combination. Lorenza absorbed both punches with her guard, though the force of the blows still sent her stumbling back several steps.

Carmen was going to hold back. She was going to go easy, stick with mostly jabs, give her right some time to heal and rack up a few sharp, crisp hits.

But now? After that little bit of junk from Lorenza? Fuck it. Every punch with the right would hurt like hell, but if it meant hurting Lorenza that much more, she was all for it. That smug look on her face, that cold tone, that stupid smirk - it was all getting rammed back down her throat.

Lorenza's guard managed to take the punches, nothing slipping through, but the force was still enough to knock her back a few steps - just what Carmen wanted.

She moved in and threw a regular right cross, a straight aimed for Lorenza's face, almost guaranteed to smack off her guard like the last one. But she pulled back and came back with the right again a split second later, only this time coming at her with an overhand right instead, looking to shoot over her guard a catch her with the surprise angle, smacking her dead in the head.

One of her brother's favorite combinations. She'd never hear the end of it.

Well, that little bit of trash talk had managed to rile Carmen up.

…good. Lorenza wanted the Puerto Rican to come at her with everything she had. The angrier Carmen was, the more likely she was to make a mistake. It meant a more ferocious storm for Lorenza to weather, but the light at the end of it would be all the brighter, if she could find her way through the clouds.

Lorenza blocked that first combination, but kept on falling back, circling around so that she was facing a corner and her back was to the wide-open center of the ring. This way, Carmen couldnâ€t trap her against the ropes. On the other hand, she could not rely on the ropes to catch her if she fell again.

Well, boxing was a game of trade-offs, and of double-edged swords. Lorenza was not about to second-guess herself on this strategy.

Carmen threw another punch, a straight right. Lorenzaâ€s guard stood between it and her bloodied, swollen face. The punch was easily deflected. Lorenza didnâ€t even have to stagger back any further. But Carmen was tricky, and the next punch she threw was another right—this one overhanded. Lorenza was not expecting that, and the black glove slammed right into her forehead, giving her yet another bruise on what had been a very pretty face. It didnâ€t look very pretty anymore. After that blow to the top of her head, Lorenza felt as if she had been lost a couple of inches of height. But she would not fall. She would retaliate, throwing a straight to Carmenâ€s guard, then following that up with a quick left hook, trying to force her foe to keep her distance.

The first punch was blocked easy enough - would have been nice if it did hit, sure, but they were at the point where nothing but the best punches were going to find a decent home. Lorenza's guard was too tight for a regular straight to just get in.

But the second punch? Oh, the second punch.

You expect a punch to come at you straight on, or at the sides, or even from down below. But above? That's rare. It took Lorenza by surprise and smacked right into her big, blue-haired forehead, snapping her neck back on contact. A sturdy blow, one of that'd be another reminder of their fight for at least the next month or so.

But it wasn't enough to knock her down, not this time. No, she endured and engaged, striking with a crisp cross that Carmen barely had the time blocked, slamming in her guard. She kept her footing and stayed close, keeping the pressure on her, but staying at this range made her vulnerable to the power punches. Namely, the quick left hook that flew around her guard smacked her in the ear, sending a vibration through her skull.

Carmen kept her feet planted and her stance steady, throwing a double left hook to try and outdo Lorenza's single. The first one went low, trying to sneak in through the cellar door, and the first one went high, trying to come in through the side windows. She could lock the doors and batten down the hatches all she liked - sooner or later, Carmen was getting in.

The overhand shot had come at such an awkward angle. Lorenza did not have a prayer of blocking it, even if she were completely fresh. She didnâ€t recall having ever seen anything quite like it—not even in the first bout she had fought with Carmen.

It slammed into her forehead. Hard. That would leave an ugly black and blue reminder right above her eye, which was now swollen almost all the way shut by a big, ugly, throbbing red lump. Her nose was clearly broken and was bleeding profusely, and she had a multitude of cuts and bruises on her lips, chin, and cheeks. This last blow felt as if it had knocked an inch or two off her height. But Lorenza refused to fall. Her legs didnâ€t buckle. She would retaliate, throwing a cross which Carmen just barely blocked, and following it up with a powerful hook which clobbered Carmen in the side of her head. That would go some way towards changing the momentum.

Lorenza was not out of the woods yet, however. Carmen retaliated with a double left hook. The first punch slammed into Lorenzaâ€s belly, eliciting a groan from the Mexican. The next aimed high, and, though she threw up her guard, Carmenâ€s black glove still skidded against her forehead. Lorenza stumbled backwards and wobbled, but she stayed on her feet.

“Ugh…is that all you have left, Rodriguez?” she yelled through her mouthguard, pounding her fists together. “Come on! Come on and punch me harder!”

Lorenza could talk all the shit she wanted, but the proof was in the pudding, and the pudding tasted delicious. Those blows had hurt. Seriously hurt. And she was reeling from it. The groan told her everything she needed to know, and even if it didn't spill the beans, that bloody nose had a story to tell, too. Carmen doubted she looked any better, though - blinking with her left eye alone was starting to become a painful affair. And that was just the outside stuff. Inside, her ribs were practically liquefied from all the abuse.

The clock was ticking down, now - less than half a minute to do some dirty work. Lorenza wanted to see how hard Carmen could punch, and she had every intention of giving her a fine example.

"Your nose is running."

With that and that alone said, Carmen charged forward, leading off with a quick jab to cover her advance, then throwing a quick shoeshine combination at Lorenza's stomach. She danced with each punch, rapidly moving from toe to toe, letting her footwork reinforce the blows as she battered Lorenza's guard. One, two, one, two, one, two - barely stronger than the average flurry, but quick enough to keep Lorenza busy while Carmen searched for just the right opening, and light enough that the pain in her right wrist wasn't too much to take - no, the real agony there was going to come soon enough.

Lorenza glanced up at the big screen which displayed a closeup of the two of them in the ring and a clock counting down the time remaining in the round. Thirty seconds. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. She didnâ€t need to survive too much longer before the bell would come to her rescue and give her a chance to recover from the beating Carmen had given her in this eighth round. Of course, half a minute was still a long time. In the boxing world, it could almost be an eternity.

“Oh, no!” Lorenza said in reply to Carmenâ€s observation that her nose was dripping blood. The Mexican smirked, then added, her voice dripping in sarcasm: “A bloody nose? How could I fight through something that deadly!?” She laughed loudly, putting her gloves up and making a beckoning motion. “Come on, hermanita. Cut your crap and punch me.”

Carmen did just that, coming at Lorenza with a quick jab that the Mexican boxer easily blocked. She would follow it up with a combination aimed at Lorenzaâ€s stomach. The first punch got through clear, slamming into Lorenzaâ€s gut and forcing the former champion to stifle a howl of pain. Her ribs. They had been aching already, but something had…snapped with that last punch. A splitting pain radiated through her stomach. She would lower her gloves to absorb as many of Carmenâ€s blows as she could, backing up to put some distance between them.

Carmen felt that bone give. Even through the glove, she felt it. Hell, she could have sworn she heard it snap.

Lorenza tried to hide it, of course. Playing the Ice Princess of Tijuana. With another opponent, she might have gotten away with it, too. But Carmen knew her face. Knew her expressions. Every spasm, every movement. Nothing went unnoticed. Especially not that.

The nail was set and ready, and Carmen had ten seconds to drive it home.

Lorenza went into full defense and Carmen went into full offense, coming out with guns blazing and emptying her clip in a bulletstorm. She went after Lorenza with a left hook to the face, trying to stun her for a precious moment, then pressed into her and started unloading right uppercut after right upper, going after the soft spot, slamming at the spot Lorenza was desperately trying to protect, trying to send her impact through the guard and hit her target regardless. Another and another, blow after blow, until-

DING!

Lorenza had done her best to soldier through the pain without betraying her agony to her opponent, but it was obvious that she had been unsuccessful. The look on Carmenâ€s face told Lorenza that her Puerto Rican opponent knew exactly where to punch her now. Things all of a sudden looked a whole lot bleaker for the former world champion.

Carmenâ€s left hook caught her right across her face, doing exactly what Carmen had intended it to: it stunned Lorenza and managed to get her to lower her guard. She was only dazed for a couple of seconds, but by the time she came to, Carmenâ€s first uppercut was already slamming into her gut. Lorenza stifled a cry of pain and staggered back, bringing her gloves down to protect that weak point. Carmen kept on punching, sending uppercut after uppercut into the broken bone. Most Lorenza managed to get her gloves in front of, but the force of the punches slammed her own gloves back into her stomach, hurting her and forcing her to keep stumbling backwards.

She felt her back hit the ropes, and she grabbed onto them for support. She had nowhere to go. Carmenâ€s uppercuts kept driving into her stomach. Lorenzaâ€s legs started to weaken. She was crying out in pain now, loudly. She wobbled uncertainly on her feet.

At last, sweet mercy, the bell rang.