Sam throws a left hook, a right hook, and another left hook that leaves Crawford hanging off him. Sam pushes him back against the ropes.
“There you go, Sam, there you go!” Miles screams. “Show him who the fucking champ is!”
Crawford pushes off the ropes and throws two punches at Sam’s ribs, but Sam lowers his elbow and protects himself. “That’s right, baby,” I whisper beneath my hands. But Crawford punches low, connecting with Sam’s hip near his groin.
That was a low blow for Crawford!
Sam stumbles back and Crawford takes the opportunity to hit him again before the referee intervenes. The ref grabs Brody’s arm and pulls him over to the side of the ring, giving Sam space and a minute to catch his breath. “That’s one point. Low blow. One point,” he says, holding up his gloved finger.
One point for that low blow. Crawford is losing a point.
The ref puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder and asks, “You all right, you ready?”
Sam nods and puts his gloves up in front of him again.
“Okay. Time in, let’s go.”
Sam stands across from Crawford and the energy in the arena swells. But the cheers and jeers of the crowd turns to white noise in my head when they start throwing punches at each other again. After a few seconds, they bear-hug each other, waiting for their energy to return, until the ref breaks them apart. Then suddenly, like two sharks attacking each other, they explode with wild energy, throwing punches back and forth so fast, I can’t tell who’s punching who, until Crawford connects with Sam’s face so hard it sends him flying backward onto the bloodstained mat.
Everything falls silent as I watch the referee stand over Sam and start counting. I see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear him. Sebastian squeezes my hand and I glance up at his horrified face. I look to my left and see Miles screaming, the blood vessels in his red neck bulging with every word I can’t hear.
The baby kicks hard and the sound of the electrified arena rushes back into my ears, forcing the air out of my lungs.
Sam Cole is not getting up. I don’t believe it. Cole is not getting up, ladies and gentlemen…This might be it.
The referee keeps counting, Seven…eight…
This is a sad moment if you’re a Sam Cole fan…And a scary moment for his fiancée, watching from beside the ring…He is out cold.
“Ten!” the referee shouts, and it rings through my ears like a gun firing. The accompanying cries from the crowd pierce through me like the bullet it released.
And that is it. The belt goes to Brody Crawford, the new light-heavyweight champion.
The doctor rushes over to Sam and puts his hands on his shoulders, but Sam doesn’t move. He puts one of his gloved fingers inside Sam’s mouth and removes his mouth guard.
Miles rushes to the ring and climbs up between the ropes. “Get her back to the dressing room,” he shouts at Grady, who promptly takes my arm.
“No!” I shout, watching them hold smelling salts under Sam’s nose and pat his cheeks before Sebastian drags me away.
* * *
I pace around the dressing room in my bare feet, practically drowning myself in a bottle of water. “I told you I had a bad feeling, Bas. I knew it was too soon for him to be fighting again after losing Joe.”
“It was the way he fought,” Bas says, shaking his head. “He put everything into those first few rounds.”
“Why would he do that? He never does that.”
“That wasn’t him. That was the coach. Joe would have never let him do that. He would have tired Crawford out first and then finished him in the last few rounds.” He drops his head back against the wall he’s leaning against.
“Lucy,” Miles calls, walking into the room, and I rush over to him.
“How is he?”
“Doc’s finished with him. He says he’s all right.”
“As in, he has another concussion, all right?”
“No, no concussion this time. The doctor said he was lucky. He likened it to hitting your funny bone. Said it was temporary nerve trauma near the base of his skull, but it’s fairly common with knockouts and relatively benign.”
Tears fill the rims of my tired eyes. “He’s really okay?”
He shakes his head. “This one really messed him up, Luc,” he says disheartened, and the disappointment is reflected in Sebastian’s eyes. “The only person he wants to see right now is you.”
I hurry to the adjoining room, leaving Bas and Miles behind me.
“Grady will wait outside until you’re ready to go back to the suite.”
“Okay,” I say over my shoulder, closing the door behind me.
I walk into the messy room and find Sam slouched in a chair with his head hanging. “Sam?” I walk over to him and he slowly lifts his head, but barely enough to look at me. He mumbles something, but I don’t understand him. “What?” I bend down and put my hand on his face, and he groans softly. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, and he mumbles something again, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. “Sam, hey, look at me,” I say, squatting down in front of him, and he looks at me with one eye. The other is swollen shut and purple all the way to his temple.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.
I grab a nearby towel and lift it to his mouth and wipe the blood and saliva dripping from it. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Sam. I’m so proud of you.”
He tries to take the towel from me, but he can barely lift his arm.
“What is it, baby? What do you need?”
“I need to take a shower,” he mumbles, trying to stand up.
“Okay.” I hold his arms. “Careful,” I say, praying he can stand up, because there’s no way I can lift him. “Want me to get Grady?”
“No…no.” He gets to his feet and I wrap my arm around his waist. I walk with him to the shower and turn the water on.
“Want me to help you get your shorts off?”
He drops his hands on the counter, but doesn’t answer.
“I’m going to take your shorts off, okay?”
He stands still while I pull his bloodstained shorts down, noticing every bruise and red mark on his body.
He lifts his head and looks at himself in the mirror. “Fucking disgrace,” he says quietly.
“Come on, baby.” I help him into the large, clean shower and he sits down on the tile floor. “Sam.”
He leans back against the tile wall and slowly shakes his head. “Just wait out there for me,” he says, closing his eyes.
“No, I’m not leaving you.”
“You don’t need to see me like this.” He pulls his knees up and his head hangs down to his chest.
“Want me to wash you?” I ask, ignoring him, but he doesn’t answer. He just sits in the streaming water with his head hanging.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, and his shoulders rise up and down. He holds his hand up and I quickly wrap mine around it. “I didn’t mean to let you down.”
“Sam, you didn’t let me down.” I fight back tears that are battling their way to my eyes and sit down in the shower next to him, ignoring the water that’s pelting me and soaking my dress. “You didn’t let Joe down either,” I say, dropping my head to his shoulder.