Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

38| No quitters here

The sound of my fists on the bag is like thunder. Every punch is fueled by pain and betrayal, and I pour everything I have into each strike. Maybe it's crazy, but the rhythm feels cathartic, almost hypnotic; I couldn't stop if I tried.

My breathing comes hard and ragged in the silence, but I need to keep going, to push through the pain, to keep striking the bag with everything I have. With each punch, I feel a little bit of the anger and frustration slip away, replaced by a sense of control. 

It's not long before beads of sweat line my forehead. The bag swings back and forth, and I follow its movement, my fists still pounding away. I'm so lost in the rhythm, in the sound of my hits as they crack against leather, that I don't hear Nico until it's too late. 

He slowly walks over, looking as if he's just had three rounds in the ring. His left cheek is pink, and his skin is lightly coated in sweat, making it glisten beneath the light. "Hey," he says softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of my gloves hitting the bag. "I saw the light on. Figured you were up here." 

He leans against the wall as I continue to punch. There's tension between us, and I can feel it as soon as our eyes meet. I've canceled on him every day this week, so I don't blame him for being pissed. 

I'd be pissed too. 

"Maddie told me you want to quit," he says, tilting his head. "That true?"

I stop punching and turn to face him, wiping the sweat from my brow. "She did?" I'm racking my brain, trying to understand why Maddie would go to Nico with this, and then it hits me. "She knows about us?"

His mouth tilts the tiniest fraction. "I'm pretty sure she figured it out the night she walked in on us." His smile fades when he remembers why he came here – to convince me I'm making a mistake. "Fighting Katarina is all you've wanted, Cassie. What's going on?"

I can feel the tears starting to prick at the corners of my eyes, and I try to blink them back. Nico looks at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. "Nothing. I just don't want to fight." 

My fists clench as I turn to the heavy bag, needing to focus on anything but him. I don't want to talk about it, don't want to think about all the people I'm letting down; I just want to be left alone. 

Nico watches me for a moment, arms folded tight across his chest as he studies my form. "She told me Coach left everything to the gym," he says, "so that should tie this place over for a while." 

He says it because he thinks the pressure of saving the gym is the reason I can't fight, but he's wrong. Still, the tiniest part of me is relieved that GymCon can stay open that little bit longer. "I'm glad, but I still don't want to fight." 

Nico frowns, shifting until he's standing in my eye line. I feel his gaze, the way his eyebrows deepen, and frustration seeps out of him. It takes all I have not to look at him. "Talk to me, Cassandra. Tell me why you're afraid to fight."

"I'm not afraid," I say through punches, but my voice grows quiet on the last syllable, the word drowned out by my punching. "I don't know what you came here for, but you're not going to change my mind, so you can go."

Hurt crosses his face. He grabs my hand and stops me from punching, using it to pull me toward him. "You can try and push me away all you want. I'm not going anywhere." 

"I want you to," I say, my voice cracking, but I don't think I mean it. "I want to be alone." 

His eyes grow dark. He turns to leave but thinks better of it and turns around, his pale eyes blazing with anger. "You know what I think?" he says, "I think you like being angry. It keeps people away. You know what you don't know how to do, Cassandra? Be happy."