The Best Revenge: 4 (final)

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Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Every person in the bar followed Edgar outside and formed a little ring around us. Edgar puffed up, gestured profanely, shouted and pounded his chest to try and mask his terror. He was doing all he could to drag the affair out until somebody stepped in.

One look at the inebriated apes surrounding us, and I knew no one was breaking this up. Edgar finally accepted the inevitable and came after me.

I let him swing some haymakers, slipped them, stepped away from his sloppy attempts to take me down. I watched him quickly tire. It wasn’t long before he slowed and then stopped completely, standing there gasping for air with his hands barely higher than his waist.

I didn’t need him tired to take him out. I could have done it anytime. I just wanted him to know, and everyone else, too, that this was all Edgar Beavers ever was — a one-round knockout fighter late in the tenth, no guts, no grit, no balls, a guy that didn’t have what it takes to go the distance.

I let him feel that for a bit, let his friends see it, and then moved in for the hook.

Most guys in a fight will swing for the head, but if you really want to give somebody a hurt that stays around for a long time, you go for…