Redemption

Chapter 1

~ 3 years later ~

NASH

The air was cold, raindrops biting at Nash's face as he ran from his car to the gym's front door. It was an early Thursday morning. A man rushed by him on the sidewalk, carrying a briefcase and wearing a suit about three sizes too big. He was probably headed to work. Nash had work to do as well.

His gym bag banged against his side, hitting a bruise from last week's practice session that still hadn't healed completely. He barely even noticed it as he reached the building's awning and pulled at the door handle. It didn't open. He tried again, but still, nothing. The lights were on inside, and the neon sign above the door was lit, the only indication that this building was the home of the infamous "Ritchie's Ring". He knew Ritchie was here. They always trained at this time. Nash banged on the door, "Yo, Ritch, open up". He tried the handle again, before knocking on the door a couple more times.

He saw a shadow emerge from the back office, walking slowly towards him. As he came into the light, Ritchie's face was stone cold. He wore his usual training clothes, sweatpants and a t-shirt with boxing shoes left untied, but his gray hair wasn't pulled back into the signature sleek bun. His razor sharp blue eyes were angled towards the ground. Nash stilled, an uneasy feeling sweeping through him. His hands fell to his sides, and he waited as Ritchie unlocked the door. Nash went to follow him in, but Ritchie stood in the doorway, no taller than Nash's shoulders, and blocked his path before he could enter

"What's up man, you got someone else training today?" Nash questioned. He glanced over Ritchie's shoulder, but found the gym was empty.

Ritchie sighed, his eyes still unable to meet Nash's. "Listen kid, I've been easy on you for a while now. I know you've had a rough time, but..." he paused, finally looking up to Nash, "you aren't winning any fights."

Nash stared at Ritchie. "Uhhh, yeah, I know. That's why I'm here to train..." he started.

"It's not about that, it's about the fact that if you don't win, I don't get paid," Ritchie stated. Nash scoffed, rolling his head sideways, running a hand across his buzzed brown hair before remarking, "Dude, believe me, I know that too. I don't get paid either. You wanna know what I had to eat for dinner last night? Trust, you do not want to hear thi..."

"KID!" Ritchie shouted. Nash cut himself short, his dark brown eyes snapping back to meet Ritchie's. "I'm being serious, something's gotta change."

"Okkkk..."

"I gotta let you go," Ritchie muttered quietly, shaking his head almost as if even saying the words upset him.

"What?" Nash's heart started to race. Let him go? What did he mean?

"I can't coach you anymore," Ritchie sighed again, "And you can't train here".

"Ritch, come on man, this isn't funny," Nash went to push past Ritchie through the doorway, but a firm hand pressed against his chest, and he stopped.

"I'm sorry, kid. I got other boxers that are bringing in more money, and I need to think about my family. My business,"

"Your family???"

"I'm sorry, kid. I gotta do it." Ritchie looked down as Nash's eyes started to sting. He sighed again, before he took a step back and went to pull the door closed. Nash stood in shock, unable to move. Unable to think. Unable to breathe. Right as the door went to shut, he stuck his foot out, holding it open. He knew that if that door shut, he would be locked out forever.

"Ritchie, man," he pleaded, "you... you know I got nowhere else to go".

Ritchie only stared at the floor, hand still on the door, and didn't answer. Nash looked at the man: his coach, his friend, HIS family. Yet, he knew there was no amount of fighting he could do to change what had already been decided.

Nash pulled back his foot, and turned towards the street. He walked back to his car this time, letting the cold air and rain strike his skin. A chill ran through him, but he knew it wasn't because of the weather. He stood at the driver door, pausing for a moment. Only then did he look back to the gym, just in time to see Ritchie pull the door shut, slide the lock back into place, and walk away.

LAUREN

Golden light from the setting sun streamed in through the blinds, directly hitting Lauren's closed eyes as she lay in bed. She lay like a corpse, back to the mattress, arms to her sides and legs straight out. It was the only way to avoid her knee from locking up or bending the wrong way while she slept.

Deep in sleep, she drifted through an obsidian sky. A flash of lightning bolted across the dark expanse in front of her formless shape. A boom of thunder followed, and like it was a drum, the bass echoed through her. It boomed again, and again, and again...

Her hazel eyes snapped open, and the incessant shrill of a ringtone bounced off her bedroom walls. She groaned, rolling to face the window, catching a glimpse of the sun sinking lower and lower in the sky. She saw the caller ID flash across her phone screen from where it sat on the bedside table, and slammed her finger down on the "accept" button and brought it to her ear.

"Hi".

"Lauren, please," her dad sounded defeated.

Shit. Thursday night family dinner, and she was 20 minutes late.

"I can be there in 5, I swear. I'll have Maddy drive me," she sat up quickly, throwing off her sheets, and slid her legs off the side of the bed. A wave of heat washed through her body, nausea hitting her stomach, and she sucked in a breath. It felt like inhaling needles. She dropped her head between her knees, her brown hair falling into a curtain around her face, and squeezed her eyes shut. Shuddering breaths began to rack her body. Double shit.

"Lauren?" her dad questioned. He could sense that she was in discomfort. This wasn't a new occurrence.

"It's....it's fine. My head," Lauren gasped, trying to regain control of her breathing to soothe the pain.

"Don't come," her dad stated firmly.

Shock overpowered the fog that was creeping through her mind. "Dad... I missed the last three dinners, mom will be so mad..."

"I'll take care of your mom, she'll understand," he assured with a sigh, before adding, "Have you been keeping up with the doctors appointments?"

Lauren swallowed her embarrassment. Her prescription had run out two weeks ago, and she hadn't found the motivation to go to the medical center for the routine check-up that was needed to get it refilled.

The silent pause only confirmed her dad's suspicions that she had been slacking, "Come on kiddo, they are there to help you. It isn't like the physical therapy you did for your knee. It's more important; we're talking about your brain here. The damage from that fight is permane-"

"I don't want to talk about that," she interjected, firmly. The line went silent. Another sigh from her dad. She could feel the disappointment, the defeat. It was something she punished herself with everyday.

"... I'm sorry Dad".

"I know, kid," Frankie whispered, "I know."

Silence again. Lauren had never needed words to have a conversation with her father. She understood her father, and more importantly, her father understood her better than she did herself.

"I'll come see you soon kid, ok? Try to do something this weekend, get out of your apartment for a while".

"Yeah, sounds good Dad. Love you".

"Love you too."

The call disconnected, and Lauren let the phone fall from her hand. Head still between her knees, back still hunched, she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to the window - just in time to see the sun slide below the horizon, disappearing from view. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Sooo I know I haven't given a lot of information about what Nash and Lauren's background is, but trust me it is coming! Also, as the story goes on, what happened throughout the 3 year gap between this chapter and the prologue will be revealed as well! And stay tuned.... our besties may just be meeting each other in the next chapter or 2 :))))))