Page 90 of Ours to Lose
A fresh start in a familiar place for me. The passing of a legacy for him.
I wouldn’t let it be torn down and replaced with luxury condos.
His eyes filled with emotion that he cleared from his throat. “Just do your best, kid.”
Five rounds in,and I was still feeling good. Tired, but so was the other guy.
He’d come out aggressive, just like Colin and I had predicted, but it hadn’t had its intended effect. Only a few of his shots had landed, while I’d blocked or slipped the rest, and with the handful of hard, clean punches I’d gotten in each round, I was confident I was ahead in points.
Still, it wasn’t this guy’s first fight. He and his coach must have decided to switch tactics because we were halfway through this round, and he’d hardly made a move. He was waiting to see if I was willing to take charge or if defense was my only strength.
Smart.
Except I could already see he was itching to lunge. Whether I was good at offense didn’t matter if he wasn’t comfortable staying on defense.
Sure enough, the second I threw a test jab, he jumped forward with a flurry of punches I deflected with my gloves.
I lured him in again with a three-punch combo, and when his counter move came, I slipped to the side but was too slow for his second jab. It came at my exposed left shoulder, grazing the muscle when I didn’t rotate in time.
I hopped back, putting space between us as I rolled out the twinge, trying not to be obvious about it. Chances were he already knew my shoulder was a weak spot. Every boxer here would have read about my rotator cuff when they did their opponent research. If he realized he’d aggravated it, it’d be blood in the water for a very hungry shark.
Rather than give him time to think about it, I went on the offensive for real. He came at me with equal aggression—a back-and-forth barrage, each landing something here or there but nothing strong enough to do real damage.
Just as I stepped in to break his momentum by wrapping him in a clinch, he threw a wide punch hard into my left shoulder.
Pain exploded up my arm and blacked out my vision. Another punch connected to my cheek, and I hit the mat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Aubrey
Gabe fell to one knee,catching himself on his right glove.
I stopped breathing.
The referee jumped between the two fighters to prevent Gabe from being hit while he was down and began to call the count.
Come on, come on…
I didn’t care about the fight anymore or whether he won. I just wanted him to be okay.
He held still, taking careful breaths, blinking rapidly at the mat as if to clear his vision. The blow to his head had been hard, but it was the punch to his shoulder I was more worried about.
“Six!…Seven!…”
As soon as the ref called eight, Gabe rose to his feet. I let out a breath as he hopped in place and lifted his hands into position, but the stiffness of his movements cut my relief short.
At the back of the room, Evan stood with his arms locked across his chest. His eyes met mine, and the stress in his stare told me he saw it too.
Gabe was in pain.
When the bell rang to end that round, I nearly dropped to my knees in thanks.
It wasn’t over, though. There were three full rounds left in the match, and if Gabe didn’t fight them, he’d be out of the tournament.
He shuffled his way to the corner and sat stiffly between his childhood coach and Colin.
“Colin knows about his shoulder, right?” I asked Jase beside me.
