Chapter 5 - Broken Rules
Marcus stepped onto the mat, his smile tight and dangerous. He pulled off his dobok jacket, leaving only a tight compression rash guard that showcased his heavy musculature. The officers stopped their sparring pairs, sensing the shift in atmospheric pressure.
""No gear this time,"" Marcus said loudly enough for everyone to hear. ""Unarmed retention. You showed them how to handle a rush. Let's show them what happens when someone who actually knows how to strike locks you up.""
""Your call,"" Maya said, keeping her guard tight and high.
Marcus didn't wait for a signal. He moved with a speed that defied his bulk, throwing a stiff jab that Maya slipped, followed immediately by an illegal spinning back elbow aimed straight at her temple. The move broke every gym safety protocol—it was thrown with full knockout intent.
A collective gasp broke from the police officers.
Maya dipped her head by a fraction of an inch; the elbow grazed her braided hair with enough force that she felt the displaced air whistle past her ear. Instead of retreating, she stepped inside the arc of his follow-through. Her palm drove upward into his sternum, staggering him backwards. Before he could recover, she drove two sharp body shots into his floating ribs.
Marcus winced, doubling over slightly, but his rage had completely overtaken his technique. He lunged wildly, wrapping both arms around her waist to slam her spine into the hardwood edge of the platform.
Maya wrapped her legs instantly around his torso, pulling him into a guillotine choke mid-fall. They crashed onto the mat together, Maya locking her ankles behind his back, tightening the vice around his windpipe. Marcus thrashed violently, clawing at her forearms, his eyes widening in panic as his oxygen was cut off.
""Tap, Marcus,"" she whispered directly into his ear, her voice deadly steady. ""Tap out or sleep.""
Marcus’s fingers frantically smacked the mat three times. Maya released the pressure instantly and scrambled up, breathing through her nose.
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Marcus lay gasping, clutching his throat, his face a bruised purple. Just then, the double doors at the front of the gym banged open, and two men in expensive dark suits walked in, accompanied by the building’s primary investor.
""What the hell is going on here?"" the investor demanded, looking down at Marcus coughing on the floor.
