Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

45| For Coach

Three minutes in the ring can feel like a lifetime, especially when injured. Hayden does his best to help me, offering me water and wiping his face, but I'm already losing faith. As much as I wanted to win this for Coach, I can't.

I'm not good enough.

I turn to Hayden, ready to tap out, when a figure grabs the ropes, and it takes me a moment to realize it's Nico. My eyes widen, because talking to me when he's working for Box Inc could get him in trouble, but right now, he doesn't seem to care.

"Hit first, hit fast," Nico says. "Forget about the crowd, Cassie. Use your anger and channel it."

"He's right," Hayden says, dabbing my face. "She's fast, but she leans toward defensive. Stop thinking about what's happening around you and focus on your offensive style. She's got one round on you, but if you give it your all these next two, you can still win."

I nod and gulp the rest of my water, needing to soothe my throat. The tension in the air is palpable, and I can feel the defeat creeping in. But I know that I'm ready. I've trained for this moment and won't let the nerves get the best of me.

Not this time.

I focus on Katarina, on that smug smile that spreads across her mouth. I could smile that way back, could regard her with that same look of arrogance, but Nico is right. Toe the line, don't cross it.

As the bell rings, I take a deep breath and think back to training, Nico's words loud and clear in my head. So fight like me, he'd said. Stop playing it safe and show me something.

I dance around her, ignoring her efforts to make me strike first, and wait for her to grow impatient. She acts as intended, starting the round with another straight jab, which flies right over my shoulder. I understand her better, can see the little kinks that she's yet to iron out, like how she drops her shoulder before striking, and I intend to use it against her.

In Nico fashion, I fake a right hook before switching to a cross, catching her right across the cheek. The crowd explodes, cheering me on the way they'd cheered her on, but I don't let it distract me. The crowd doesn't matter, nor the lights or the noise; the only thing that matters is this fight.

She circles me again, her eyes hardening through her gloves. I focus on the flame in my stomach, of all the cruel words that shredded my confidence. I repeat them like a mantra, turning them into something tangible, and swing.

My fist strikes her jaw, and her head snaps back, sending her sideways. She grabs the rope, using it to straighten herself, but I don't give her time to recover. I hit her again, landing a hook across her cheek, eliciting a groan.

She charges toward me as if it's personal now, swinging and catching my eye. Pain rattles my skull while my vision blurs, but I shake my head to clear it. I can't let her get the upper hand.

The rest of the round is a blur of punches and movement. I take hit after hit but keep going, my determination fueling me. She takes just as many, too, neither of us willing to relent this round, which puts us on an even keel.

Her fist flies out, and I tilt my head to the side, allowing it to sail across my shoulder. Twenty more seconds, and we'll be heading for round three. If I carry on this trajectory, I stand a chance.

Desperate to maintain my position, I keep my feet light as I dance around the ring, using my reflexes to my advantage. I jab and hook, striking with precision and power as Hayden showed me. It's followed by a flurry of punches, Nico style, most of which land where I want them to.

"Come on, Cassie!" A voice shouts louder than the crowd, and I recognize it as my dad's. I feel myself smiling despite the pain in my lip and use his encouragement to push forward, landing a fresh wave of jabs that send her hunching over.

Five seconds to go. I manage to dodge Katarina long enough to finish unscathed, then it's back to my corner, where Hayden dabs my face again and urges me to drink water. "You're back on track," he says, looking proud. "If you can push a little harder in the final round, you'll win, Cassie. You think you can do that?"

I swallow hard, searching the crowd for familiar faces. It doesn't take long to spot my parents and Cody. They're jumping up and down, waving and clutching each other in anticipation, half-excited and half-scared to death. I manage a wave and keep searching, spotting Daisy first and then a few from the gym, like Maddie and Wiley, who give me a thumbs up.

Finally, I see Nico. He's staring right at me, eyes dark with concern as he takes in my face, but I can tell behind the worry, he's proud. I close my eyes, briefly imagining that Coach is here, and he's just as proud too.

"I can do it," I say and open my eyes again.

I get to my feet, shaky and nervous but determined. Part of me refuses to give up, even if it hurts me. In the first round, I'd let distractions get the best of me, but I'm not distracted anymore. I see what's important, what things are at stake if I lose this fight, and I'm not prepared to back down.

Slowly, I move to my corner, waiting for the final bell. Katarina looks as bad as I feel: her cheek is bruised, and her lip is split painfully down the middle. If it weren't for the arrogance residing in her eyes, I'd probably feel guilty.

The bell goes, and we circle each other for one final time. I hit hard and fast, landing a jab that catches her jaw. It knocks her off guard, but only momentarily before she's moving again, swinging in anger. Our gloves clash, the leather against leather like the crack of a whip. I slam my fist forward before she can retreat, sending it straight into her mouth.

She retaliates with a hard uppercut that sends me reeling. I stumble back, trying to regain my balance, but fly into the ropes. Breathing steadily, I block out the noise, fear, and doubt and keep going.

We spend the next minute in a back-and-forth dance, both taking blow after blow. As the fight goes on, I start to feel the strain. Katarina is fierce, and as hard as I'm trying to counter her attacks, it feels like she's getting the better of me. I step back as her arm flies out, feeling a sudden pain in my side. I realize too late that she's caught me with a body shot.

I wince in pain and dodge her next hit, looking for an opening. My muscles ache, and my arms feel heavy, but I can't let that show. I take a deep breath and charge back in, throwing everything I have left at her.

For Coach.

She drops her shoulder, the signal she's ready to swing again, so I duck and catch her stomach. Her mouth twists. She bends over slightly before straightening up, offering a fleeting distraction. I use it to my advantage, my hits raining down on her shoulders and face, allowing no room for recovery. It's tiring as hell, my arms burning and begging for mercy, but I won't stop fighting. I said I'd win this fight for Coach, and I will.

Katarina fights back, but I'm so focused now that I barely even feel it. I kick it up a notch, dropping my hands to get in better shots, even if it means leaving myself open. Now is not the time to play safe, defensive style; it's time to go all out. Her gloves strike my body, hard and fast to get me off, but I'm on her like a laser.

For Coach, I think with the thud of my next blow, and it works. She flies into the ropes, dazed and giving me the opening I need. The second she straightens, I rain down jabs that send her to the ropes, relentless in my offense. The last strike hits hard, knocking her down until she falls on her knees and hunches over my feet.

A second passes, then another. Slowly, Katarina's hand rises, her glove's tip pointed to the air in perfect stillness. The crowd goes wild, breaking into cheers that rattle my bones, but I don't understand right away - not until the ref calls the match.

I did it. I won.

My eyes burn, and as the crowd breaks into a round of applause, I feel the smallest tear slip out. The ref grabs my hand, raising my glove as if raising a glass to the heavens.

For Coach.