CHAPTER NINETEEN
SHAY
I t’s only been a few days trying to navigate whatever it is Blair and I are, so I don’t want to ruin anything, but I can’t stop thinking about shit.
About what she said about her dad, about the fight where I lost control, and about Blake and how he very well could hold my future in his hands. Especially tonight.
First fight since I taught that douchebag a lesson when he put hands on Blair. Accident or not, it fucking happened, and I hope every hit I laid into him is a constant reminder.
I stand at the edge of the ring, wrapping my hands in tape. The familiar motion and routine grounds me in a sense, but my mind is still a mess. Blake is beside me, leaning against the ropes lazily, but I can see him watching me from the corner of his eye.
“Hey,” he finally says as I turn around to face the small crowd that’s gathering and stretch my shoulders. “You’re not going to let that shit affect you tonight, right?”
I glance at him briefly, then point my eyes back to the crowd, searching out Blair. I find her off to the side, with Austin next to her, just like I instructed him.
“What are you talking about?” I keep my tone casual, but truth is, my head isn’t entirely in the game.
“You’re not going to break the rules again tonight just because your head’s not straight? I have a lot riding on you here, Shay. I even brought in a few buddies to watch.”
“I’m fine.” The words feel like a lie even as I say them, but it’s easier than trying to open up and explain anything to him.
He doesn’t look convinced. He opens his mouth to say something else, but his gaze flickers to where my eyes have been positioned. Right on Blair.
“Focus, Shay.” He shoves my shoulder, forcing my sights to him.
I nod and look down to my feet, then back up to him. “Right. I got it.”
But even as I move to slide into the ring, I can’t help but take one last look behind me to see her. She isn’t here as a ring girl tonight. She’s just here for… me.
When my feet hit the canvas, the familiar rush of adrenaline hits me hard. I’m floating, letting all of the noise fade into the background, until the bell rings out. Blake’s words echo in my mind: focus .
I shake off the distraction, ball my fists, and wait for the first swing.
My opponent comes at me fast, jabs to my ribs, testing my defense.
I parry, but it’s not quite right. My reflexes are a step behind, and my mind is still somewhere else, no matter how hard I try to bring it back.
I dodge, then throw a hard right hook, connecting with his jaw.
It stings my knuckles, but I don’t back down.
He stumbles back, but he’s quick to recover.
With every blow I land, my gaze flickers back to where Blair stands. She’s watching, arms crossed, confusion painting her face. She isn’t moving. She’s just standing there, and something about it keeps pulling my focus right to her.
Breaking my stare, I point my eyes back to my opponent.
I land another jab to his chest, but my timing is off again.
He pushes forward with a clean hook that catches me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me for a second.
I take the hit, grimacing, and immediately go on defense, circling back.
Focus, Shay —I repeat Blake’s words like a mantra, but my body isn’t listening.
Every time I move, I find myself not caring about standing my guard. Instead, I’m searching for her out in the crowd. Her eyes are still locked onto me like she’s trying to telepathically ask me what the fuck is going on, but her guess is as good as mine.
The punch I throw next misses by a fraction, and the guy across from me takes advantage, landing a sharp uppercut to my chin. My head snaps back, and the sting of his fist radiates through my skull.
Blake’s voice rings out from the corner, his tone doing nothing to hide his irritation. “Shay! Get your head in the game!”
I blink, shaking my head, trying to clear the fog. I focus again, forcing myself to engage with the fight, to tune everything else out.
I throw another punch and land it right in his jaw. He stumbles back, and his eyes flash with frustration. Good. I’ve got his attention again. But as he steps back to recover, I glance over to Blair once more, but she doesn’t look at me this time. Instead, she looks away.
The bell finally rings, signaling the end of this round, and I back away, stepping toward my corner.
Blake looks at me through narrowing eyes as he leans in. “You need to keep it together.”
“I know.”
I can’t let shit get to me. Not here. Not in the ring. But as the second round starts, I know it’s already too late.
The bell rings again, and I square up. I can feel Blake’s eyes on me, but it’s still not enough to shake the fog of wherever my head is.
He charges at me this time, faster than before, and I’m too slow to react.
He throws a quick combination—left jab, right cross, then a solid hook that catches me off guard.
The punch lands clean on my cheek and snaps my head back.
The sharp sting vibrates through my jaw, and for a split second, the world tilts.
I stagger, my vision blurring for a moment. I hear Blake shout something, but it’s distant and muffled, like I’m underwater.
I steady myself and take a breath. The guy presses forward, sensing my weakness, but I’m not out. Not yet. I clench my fists again, tighten my core, and throw a quick jab to his stomach to create some distance. He stumbles back, but only for a second, and I know I don’t have a lot of time to reset.
But the damage is done. My head is still ringing, and my focus?
Shattered. Has been since the second I stepped in the ring.
I can feel blood from my lip and taste the copper on my tongue.
The crowd is a distant hum, but Blair’s figure from the corner of my eye?
That’s sharp, cutting through the haze. I turn my head fully to catch a full look at her again, and everything stops for a second.
The guy takes it as his opportunity to charge forward again, and this time, I don’t see the left hook coming. He lands it hard, right under my ribs, and my breath is knocked from me again. I go down to one knee, gasping for air.
Staggering back to my feet as quickly as I can, my legs shake, and my breath is ragged. I shake my head, trying to clear it, but my opponent is already moving again, bouncing effortlessly on the balls of his feet and taking advantage of the split second I’m off-balance.
I have no time to recover before his fist flies out again, landing right in the same spot he got my jaw earlier. It lands with a sickening crack, and my knees give out beneath me. I hit the canvas hard. Blinking, I try and force my eyes back into focus, but it’s hard.
Blake’s voice breaks through, though. “Get up, Shay!”
But it’s too late. The countdown is already ticking away.
One…
Two…
Three…
I lie there, not even trying to move. The past month has been moving too fucking fast, and I just need a minute.
When the final number is yelled out by the ref, I loll my head to the side and search for Blair. She’s still in the same spot as earlier, but this time, her brows are furrowed, and she frowns.
Don’t sweat it, Dollface. I needed a break. I try to communicate with my face and a lazy smirk.
Promptly, Blair’s figure is cut off, though, and Blake’s comes into view. Again, he follows my sights and glances at Blair over his shoulder.
“If you’re going to be so easily distracted by pussy, maybe you shouldn’t be fighting,” he hisses.
I just shrug. I couldn’t give a fuck less about him right now. I know I should, but the first fight back didn’t feel as good as I thought it would.
Or maybe I just have more important shit to worry about now.