Page 54 of Sacrifice the Knight (Checkmate 6)

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Katrina

“Breathe, big momma. Take that oxygen in and don’t pass out.”

“Shut up!” I smack Meg’s hand away, and when she reaches for me again, I slap her again. My son is being led toward a regulation-size boxing ring surrounded by spectators and trainers. He’s my baby! He was crawling on the floor and eating mashed banana for dinner not so long. He was waking up thirty times a night because he was a shitty sleeper, and sending me into a tailspin because he wanted to walk at nine months old, and wore the goose eggs and bruises to show for it.

But now he’s standing on the outside of a boxing ring with his best friend by his side. In boxing trunks, no shirt, sixteen-ounce gloves, and sweaty hair because Ben and his trainer, Bobby Kincaid, have already been working him while the other fighters take their turns.

I should be concerned about the girl fighters who are currently competing for dominance, the blonde-haired fighting machine who kicks her opponent’s ass and makes it look so unbelievably easy, it looks like anyone could do it. She demands the attention of every person in this gym – everyone except me. I watch Mac’s every single move, while he and Benny watch the fight going on just three feet in front of them, as they shout their instructions, dodge the strikes that Evie dodges, lift their legs when Evie lifts her legs, then they throw a phantom strike a mere second before she does, knocking her heavier opponent on her ass. Evie’s small crowd shoots into the air on a celebratory roar as though they haven’t watched her win at least a dozen times in the past.

Aiden Kincaid jumps into the ring before the other girl regains her feet. Where Bobby Kincaid is my son’s coach today, Aiden is Evie’s – always. He picks his daughter up into a crushing hug and tosses her into the air with laughing cheers.

If I were a smarter woman, I would have taken Evie’s fighting time to relax and breathe through myhe’ll be okaymantra. For as long as she was fighting, Mac was just a spectator. But that’s not what I did. Instead, I panicked and focused only on the fact that once she’s done, it would be his turn. And now I’m out of time.

So stupid!

The boys are already sweaty; they ride their adrenaline, and add to it with Evie’s victory as the crew of teens chest bump and tap fists. They’re a group of fighters, and it does strange things to my heart that my son has this whole other world outside of me. Once upon a time, I was all he had. I knew everything he did during every minute of the day, but then he grew up, made friends, joined this gym, and now he has these relationships that have absolutely nothing to do with me.

I love that he’s chosen such amazing friends, and I’m simultaneously heartbroken I’m not a part of it.

This place today, this competition, isn’t a real fight. Not in the sense that people will be injured for real or walk away bloodied and hurt. There’s no prize money involved, no fame or fortune, no television interviews for the victor. This is just a day for kids to get their feet wet and learn what it feels like to fight someone who isn’t your friend from the gym.

Well. Except Evie.

She’s well into herrealcompetition career, and here today only because the gym belongs to her family and her reputation precedes her. These kids come from other gyms and challenge the blonde to a bout because they’ve heard of her, but they swear the girl who looks so glamorous could never be so skilled. Her mother might be a princess from another time, but her father is a fighter to the core, so it would be impossible for her to grow up here without knowing how to kick ass.

These other kids swear they’ll be the one who can put her down, the chosen one, the victorious one, but for as long as Mac has been here and I’ve been following him to his fights, those girlsalwayswalk away with a bruised butt from when they land and a bruised ego because their mouths are faster than their feet.

Evie has maintained her title of queen badass, but now it’s my baby’s turn.

“Sweetheart.” Daddy squeezes my hand – in comfort? Or restraint? “You need to breathe. He’s gonna be just fine.” He casts an arm toward Mac and his friends. “See that? They’re putting his head gear on. Benny’s there, telling him what he’s gotta know. And Kincaid is the best in the business. I swear, I never met a Kincaid who didn’t know how to fight and win before. The blood runs hot in that family, so you gotta relax and trust that Mac is in good hands.”

“He’s being set in front of a dude with fists and being told to take it.”

“He is not!” Daddy shakes his head. “Mac has fists too, honey. He has skill, a fast right, and light feet. This isn’t his first rodeo.”

“But his leg, Daddy! His ankle. His… everything! His skull is still compromised, and his judgment has always been bad. He’s taking extra meds because his leg is bothering him.”

Daddy throws an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in with a hug while Meg sits on my other side and snickers.

“How’d you raise such a wimp, Mr. Blair? Swear, I never met a chick with such small lady balls before.”

“Shut up!” I smack Meg’s thin arm and take satisfaction when she hisses in pain. “I have lady balls big enough to put Mac’s opponent and every other dude in this room down. Including Kincaid.”

Daddy scoffs.

“But I also have this totally reasonable fear that my son is going to end up in the ER tonight, and I’m not sure I can take another blow like that.”

“He will not,” Meg snaps. “When was the last time anyone ever got hurt at one of these?” She leans forward and catches my dad’s eye. “Really? Answer me that.”

“There was the kid who broke his shin,” he answers. “He kicked the other kid’s hip, which created the crack in the bone. Next kick, that leg just snapped like a dry twig. The sound was gross.”

“Well… there’s that,” Meg concedes.

“There’s the kid who tripped on a towel last time and gave himself a concussion,” Daddy adds. “Dumb little fucker.”

“See!” I meet Meg’s eyes. “Told you!”

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