Both rose as one and tossed the dregs of their coffee to the ground. They tossed the cups to the ground and walked away from the campsite. Max flexed his arms and wiggled his hands and did a little boxing shuffle with his feet.
“That’s cute,” Smoke told him. “Where’d you learn that? From a hurdy-gurdy girl?”
“You’re going to be easy, Jensen. That’s one of Jem Mace’s moves.”
“Somehow I think he did it better. You looked kind of stupid.”
Max stepped in quickly and tried a right at Smoke’s head. Smoke sidestepped, but not to the side that Max anticipated, and the left that followed the right almost jerked him off his boots when it exploded against thin air.
“Damn, you’re clumsy,” Smoke told him.
Max charged in and Smoke was forced to back up. Smoke knew that if Max connected solidly with that big right, it would hurt. Max drew first blood with a sneaky left that bloodied Smoke’s mouth; but Smoke moved away too quickly for the right he threw to connect. Smoke’s left did connect against Max’s belly and it was like hitting a tree.
He danced back and let Max follow him. Neither man had as yet worked up a sweat or was even breathing hard. Both of them knew that this fight could last a long time.
Max snaked a right in that almost connected. Smoke smashed a left uppercut that jerked Max’s head back and stopped him for a couple of seconds. Before he could fully recover, Smoke danced away.
Blood was leaking out of one side of Max’s mouth as he followed Smoke around the flats. Smoke suspected the big man had bitten his tongue due to that uppercut.
Suddenly Max dropped his fists and charged, trying to catch Smoke in a bear hug. What Max got was a combination left and right to his face, followed by a boot to his knee that staggered him. Before he could catch his balance, Smoke had hit him twice more, both times on the face. Max felt blood running down from his nose and the sensation infuriated him. He stepped in and busted Smoke on the jaw with a hard right, and then a left to the belly that hurt the smaller man.
Smoke backed up, shaking his head, for Max had a punch like the kick of a mule.
Max sensed victory too soon, but with good reason. Never had he had to hit a man Smoke’s size more than twice to put him down. He stepped closer to put the finishing touches to one Smoke Jensen, and Smoke knocked the crap out of Max Huggins.
The hard right fist connected flush on the side of Max’s jaw and put the big man down on the grass. He was astonished! He wasn’t hurt, just simply astounded that Jensen had actually knocked him down.
Max was further astonished when Smoke backed up, allowing the man to get to his feet. Smoke was fighting ring rules.
“Just as long as you do, Max,” Smoke said after correctly reading the man’s expression.
Max nodded and stepped in, raising his fists. So it was boxing that Jensen wanted, hey! Well, he would sure oblige the man.
Both men were wary now, each of them knowing the other could do plenty of damage. They circled each other, Max with his fists held high, Smoke with his left fist held wide from his body and his right fist just in front of and to one side of his head.
He’s no boxer! Max thought gleefully. Not with a stupid stance like that. Now I have him. Now I have him.
What Max got was a left fake that he brushed aside and a powerful right that barreled through and busted him flush on the mouth. He felt his lips split and the blood gush. The left that he had brushed away caught him a smashing blow on the side that hurt the big man, backing him up.
Smoke pressed in, hitting the man with a flurry of blows to the arms and shoulders as Max could do nothing but cover up until he caught his wind. And the blows were bruising.
Smoke pounded the man’s arms, hurting and bruising them, taking some of the power from them. Max finally had to lower his guard and shove Smoke from him. The move got Smoke off him for a moment, but it also earned Max a smashing blow to the head.
Max saw an opening and took it, handing Smoke a one-two combination to the head. The blows popped Smoke’s head back and bloodied his mouth. The left had caught him above the eye and opened a cut.
Smoke backed up, shook his head, and then plowed right back in, pressing the attack. He drove a right fist in that caught Max on the nose, and the big man felt the already injured nose break. The blood poured. Smoke didn’t let up. He smashed a left and right to Max’s head that rocked the big man back on his heels. Max got in a hard right that shook Smoke down to his boots, staggering him.
Max jumped at Smoke, intending to boot the man to the ground. One boot did catch Smoke on the leg, bruising the flesh but not putting him down. Smoke countered with a kick of his own that caught Max on the shin and brought a yelp of pain from the man. Smoke jumped in and blasted another left and right. The left took Max on the side of the jaw and the right hit him flush in the mouth.
Max grimly spat out part of a broken tooth and came on, both fists held high.
Smoke hit the man in the belly and took a left hook to his head for that move. Max followed the hook with a heel-drop that sent Smoke to the ground. Max tried to kick him. Smoke rolled away and came up on his boots, a hard light in his eyes.
Max had expanded the fight, moving away from ring rules with that attempted kick. If that were the way the man wanted it, so be it.
Max swung a looping right. Smoke caught the forearm and wrist and threw the man to the ground, then stepped in and gave Max a vicious kick to the kidney that brought a howl of pain from him. Smoke brought his balled fist down hard on Max’s neck just as the man was trying to get up. The blow knocked him flat on the ground. Smoke went to work with his boots, stomping and kicking. One boot caught Max flush in the mouth, and the force of the kick shattered the big man’s front teeth, top and bottom.
With a scream of rage and pain, Max flung out his hand and caught Smoke’s jeans leg, tumbling the smaller
