Knockout

Chapter 16

The gym is packed with people, a lot of people showed up for this. Marshall's "comeback" fight is tonight. Rule made a big show for the whole thing even though I asked him not to. Marshall keeps asking me if I'm alright. I wish he'd stop, I'm fine. If he keeps asking me I might not be. It hasn't even registered for me that he's actually going to fight tonight.
I'm worried he's out of practice. He hasn't been in training all that long and from what I've heard out of Cash the guy he's fighting is good. I can't remember his name but Cash said he's only lost a few times. I begged Rule to schedule an easy first fight back but he said I shouldn't worry.
I'm getting really tired of people telling me not to worry. They always say "don't worry" and then Marshall ends up with a life threatening surgery and a stab wound. At least Thatcher is here, Ren wanted to come but Rule doesn't want her in this environment. He's gotten very very protective over her now that she's pregnant. I hate to say it, but there's only so much protection he can give.

"Breathe." Thatcher tells me, and I release the breath in holding in. "He's gonna be fine."

"I know." I nod, breathing some more. "But I still feel anxious. Like, my brain knows he'll be okay but my body has to see it to believe it."

"I'll be here." He pats my leg and crosses his own. "I'm excited, this'll be the first fight I've ever been to."

"I want to enjoy them but I get too nervous." I say, taking one last deep breath.

"Aw come on." He laughs. "I bet Marshall looks real sexy beating the shit out of someone."

Well now that he said it, I remember many times in the beginning when I would watch Marshall at training. He does look good in the ring. The gloves, the shorts that hug him in all the right places, sweat glistening on his back, and his eyes that are filled with determination to take his opponent down. I shift uncomfortably, thinking about him and I in that corner just over there.

"Hello?" Thatcher laughs, waving his hand in front of my face. "You in there?"

"He does look good fighting." I agree, and then shift in my seat again. "But I don't like when he's getting the beating."

"It's the job babe." Thatch puts his arm around my shoulder and rubs it in a brotherly manner. "He'll be alright."

I smile quickly at him and then divert my attention back to the ring. The fight is going to start soon. Rule comes up into the center of the ring and begins his announcing ritual. Thatch squeezes my hand reassuringly as Rule notifies the crowd that the opposing fighter is a two hundred pound guy named Marcus Juxtenberg. I can't help but compare him physically to Marshall. Marshall is around two hundred pounds as well, but it's a different kind of two hundred pounds than Marcus.
Marshall's weight is distributed between his height and muscles. Marcus is around 5'9" where Marshall is 6'3". He hardly has any visible muscle on him where Marshall is built like a rock.
My stomach untenses after observing Marcus' appearance. Even if he's lost only a couple times I know Marshall can take him. I exhale and relax for a second but tense up immediately when I see Marshall get in the ring. I stand up with the crowd, my heart racing.

"This is so exciting!" Thatcher yells over the crowd to me.

"And on his very first comeback fight after a short leave, Marshall Mathers!"

I can't find it in me to clap, it's incredibly difficult for me to support this. Thatcher claps enough for the both of us and we watch as Rule explains the limitations of the fight to both of them. Then without warning the fighting starts. Well, I guess this isn't really fighting. Marshall hasn't thrown one punch this entire round. Marcus throws many at him, most of which he dodges and some of which he absorbs.
I hold my breath, please do something baby. Just hit him! I want Marshall to win, I want him to prove himself. My eyes flicker between them and I hold Thatcher's hand tight. Just when we think the round is over Marshall lands one punch hard on Marcus' temple.
He falls, spinning to face the back and crashing down hard on the mat. Rule jumps into the ring and begins counting the seconds. One, Two, Three... Marshall glances at me and smiles quickly, he knows he has it. Eight, Nine, Ten. He's out. It's a knockout, Marshall wins.
Thatcher goes crazy beside me, cheering with the rest of the crowd for Marshall, my Marshall. I stare at him in that ring and he doesn't take his eyes off me, even as they pull him out of the ring to get cleaned up. My heart thumps fiercely inside my chest, what a rush. Thatcher and I fight the crowd for fifteen minutes trying to get to the locker room. Once we are clear, I open the door and we both walk inside.
Marshall sits on the bench with Rule and a couple medics that are wrapping up his cuts and checking bruises. Cash is there too, who immediately stands and greets Thatcher with a light peck on the cheek. Marshall doesn't see me until I'm only a couple feet away from him, behind the medics.