Redemption

Prologue

NASH

"Now's the time, kid. No more games. If you want to win this, you need to make it happen now," Ritchie screamed in his ear.

Nash could feel hands all around him. Slapping his back, dabbing his eyebrow with a sponge, water being poured into his mouth. He knew there was a crowd, roaring with the anticipation of a victory, yet it all sounded so far away. It was muffled, as though he had headphones over his ears. His eyes were almost swollen shut, only enough of an opening for him to see the opponent in the corner opposite. The room was tilting slightly, coming in and out of focus as his body fought to stay sitting. Arms hung by his sides, heavy, as if they were anchors trying to sink to the floor. He felt no pain, but he recognized the sharp metallic tang of blood dripping down his face. Ritchie crouched into view, grabbing either side of Nash's face and commanding him to look at his coach.

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!?" he shouted. His eyes were burning with determination. Ritchie knew Nash was in rough shape. It wouldn't be physical strength that would win this fight, though. This final round was mental, and he needed Nash to be focused, "Don't think Nash. Don't feel. Just fight."

A bell rang out, and the world around Nash snapped into clarity. He was hoisted from his seat, and pushed out towards the center of the ring. Don't think, Ritchie had said, don't feel. As Nash brought his hands up to fighting stance, his opponent stalked towards him. He was in no better condition, but there was something in his eyes that struck a cord of fear into Nash. Nash hadn't seen that look, that pure unadulterated rage, since....

POW!!

A fist connected with his ribs, and Nash could feel something snap. He lowered his elbow to cover the spot before swinging out to try to counter with a front hook. His motions were second nature. He didn't need to think, but he needed focus. The punch made contact, but not enough to deter the jab coming towards his face. The glove pummeled into his nose, and the crack of another broken bone echoed through his skull. Nash tried to respond again, but he was on the defense. Each of his punches was met with a block, and followed by a striking blow to his face, his sides, his stomach. The crowd cheered, whistles of excitement thundered through the arena. They sensed that the fight was coming to a close, and the champion would soon be crowned.

It wouldn't be Nash.

Another punch connected with Nash's back shoulder, and his weight shifted forwards to stay balanced. His head had dropped, and as he tried to bring his back leg out to center himself again, Nash didn't see the uppercut until it met his jaw. Nash felt as though a light switch had flipped off. Everything went still, everything went quiet. He could sense that he was falling, the ground getting closer and closer. His knees buckled to the mat, then his chest, his shoulders, and finally his head. The last thing that flashed through his mind before darkness took over was those eyes. Full of fury - angry, and vengeful. Then, nothing.

LAUREN

There was 1 minute left in the round. Lauren quickly sidestepped a sloppy hook and countered with a cross, connecting with Britt's face. She jumped back into her stance, arms up to protect her head, and waited for Britt to make the next move. This was Lauren's game - she knew she could outlast any opponent with her endurance. Let them tire themselves out trying to knock her off her game while Lauren delivered blow after blow when they left themselves exposed. After all, it was the tactic that had won her the East Coast championships twice in a row, and earned her a gold medal at the 2016 Rio Summer Olympics, becoming the youngest boxer to ever win at only 18 years old. She knew she was going to win then, and she knew she was going to win now.

The bell tolled, marking the end of the 5th round. Lauren returned to her corner, not bothering to look up at the packed stands in the arena. Everyone was here to watch the IBA Championship Match, putting Lauren Miller against Britt Neisman, both young fighters with promising futures. Britt may have been her equal in age, but Lauren had more titles to her name, and if she won today, she would answer the question that every boxing fan wanted to know - "Who is the best female boxer in the world?" .

"You're doing great," her dad, Frankie Miller, assured, "Keep baiting her. Let her throw the punches, and then find the weak spots. You don't have to hit hard, just accurate. Try to knock her off balance."

Lauren could only nod her head. She didn't even look at her father, keeping her eyes locked on Britt. Her coach, Roger Barton, was screaming at her, no doubt angry that she hadn't gotten the upper hand on Lauren yet. The clock indicated 10 more seconds until the next round began. As Lauren stood, she saw Roger lean down and whisper something in Britt's ear. As he pulled away, Britt turned to him in shock, and he only nodded in response. Britt's eyes were wary, but quickly turned into icy hot rage. She got to her feet, and met Lauren's gaze with an intensity that sent a wave of surprise through her. A sprinkle of doubt crept into Lauren's mind, but she pushed it down before it could take root. This was her match to win. There was nothing that could take that away.

The two met in the center of the ring, and took their stances. The bell tolled again, giving the fighters the green light. Britt didn't hesitate before she hit Lauren with a jab cross uppercut combo that put Lauren on her heels. This was new, Britt had never fought in this style. Speed over strength, overwhelming the opponent with so many punches that they couldn't keep up. Lauren was no stranger to defending herself against this tactic, but it threw off her plan. This wasn't about endurance anymore. She needed to counter with a punch to break the rhythm Britt had created, put some space between them so Lauren could readjust. She sent out a jab, but Britt swatted it away and returned a hook, knocking Lauren's arm across her body and exposing her chest. Lauren quickly recovered and brought her back arm up to protect herself. Britt hesitated for a moment, and Lauren took the opening it created to step forward and bring her front arm back around for a return hook. As the punch connected, the satisfaction of a clean hit to her opponent was washed away by a wave of pain. Britt's foot connected with the back of her leg, kicking upwards to fold her knee.

Lauren collapsed, her knees hitting the ground so hard the impact reverberated through her body. She couldn't feel it, only the blinding pain. It was everywhere, spreading outwards from her leg, into her stomach, her arms, her head. She yelled, eyes squeezing shut, but it offered no relief. She felt something hit her right temple, but the feeling was diluted, as if her body was numb. Everything was numb except her leg. Her head rocked sideways from the contact, and as darkness overtook her, the pain followed, lingering in the shadows of her mind.

~ Author's Note ~

OKKK so here is the prologue chapter. We get a quick sneak peek into the past of Lauren and Nash, and next chapter will start up in the present. Hope you guys are excited for what's to come