He looked back at the gloves a second time, before letting his eyes land on the back of the other guy walking away. He was brash and insulting, and he doubted he could have gained much fame with that attitude. Though he knew worse people during his time in the military, and after that as part of clandestine services. They earned the right to act that way though. Many of them saved his life more than once, the others had his back more than they would their own blood family. They were his brothers. This guy was just some wannabe tough guy from a gym. He’d probably never seen any real combat, never been in a full-on life and death situation. He doubted the man even knew the proper way to clear a structure, much less hold his own in armed combat where your life was the prize. 

The man was already proving most of what he suspected, by demanding they fight in a ring and with protective equipment. Johnathan wasn’t about to give him his way on that one. Today many mistakes got rectified. Today, the man would fight a real fight. A fight for his life, a fight that had only one ending. One of them, broken and battered, laying on the ground and their heart no longer pumping any blood through the veins. 

[i]“Thirty minutes is twenty-nine more minutes than I need to beat you though, fella.”[/i]

He said to the retreating back, his own feet still standing firmly planted on the ground – his arms still resting at his sides. [i]“And I’m not putting on your silly gloves and coming into your padded, air-conditioned ring. You want me to leave, you turn your pussy ass right around, you come back and you swing. Otherwise, you can keep walking away like the little bitch you were raised to be, I’m sure your daddy is real proud of his son: The Bitch. Probably your ring name too, eh?”[/i] 

His laughter echoed in the near-empty alleyway.