Page 99 of Strike Zone

“Stop talking and breathe. You’re injured, Diana. How many ribs?”

“At least two, but I’m not stopping.” How the hell does he know, just from looking at me? He’s a baseball player, not a fighter or a doctor.

“I know. I’m cheering for you.” He says nothing else—although he wants to—letting Gray shout a few orders at me before the bell rings for round three. I can’t think about him right now or how hard it is for him to see me fight. If I’m going to win, I have to be ruthless. I have to be Dee Lex.

Kayla is a fierce opponent, merciless and willing to exploit the injuries she suspects I’m carrying as we move through this round. I respect her for that. I do the same thing but being on the receiving end of it isn’t so great. I want to crumple to the ground every time her fist connects with my right side, but I’m trained to fight through the pain. I know I’ve broken her nose, and I try to make sure she takes as many hits as I can land.

Gray’s prediction of a knockout in round three vanishes with the bell, and if I’m honest, I’m just glad I didn’t go down with a knockout in this round. We’re both fighting hard, each a little slower, our punches and kicks having less impact, but neither of us is ready to give up. With two rounds to go, it’s anyone’s title.

Every muscle aches, and I know my face must look like a half-chewed caramel already. My left eyelid is swollen and tight, and my lips are split, bottom and top. I haven’t taken a beating this hard in a long time. If I can just hold on a little longer and land a winning shot, the title is mine. It doesn’t sound like much, but right now, at this moment, it feels like standing at the bottom of Mount Everest and being asked to climb with a broken—I was thinking leg, but I guess ribs are as good a choice as any.

My ribs are in agony with every breath I take, and it’s little solace to see my opponent in her corner, bracing herself against the cage as we await the bell for the beginning of round four, struggling to breathe through her bloodied, messed-up nose. That’s going to require some plastic surgery to make it right after tonight.

When the bell rings, it takes everything I have to push myself up off my haunches and onto my feet. The crowd is cheering, trying to give us that last boost we need to clinch the win, and I dig deep, finding what little burst of adrenaline I have left in the tank and tackle Kayla with everything I’ve got.

Grabbing her arm, I twist it in a lock behind her back, and she drops to her knees to avoid a break. This could be it. I can put us both out of our misery and claim my title. Kayla and I are both in desperate need of medical attention, but there’s one more round and a minute left in this one, standing between one of us and victory—between both of us and a doctor.

She manages to catch me unaware with her free arm, thrusting her elbow upward, connecting with my ribs, forcing me to loosen my grip. I stumble backward, bile rising in my throat, but I choke it down and let the cage hold me up for just a fraction of a second, my vision swimming as I attempt to keep going until the bell.

One more round.

You can do it.

Just ring the fucking bell already!

I’ve never been so relieved in my life when the bell rings, and I slump to the floor. Thankfully, I’m already in my corner, and Gray is at my side in a flash.

“Do you have five minutes left in you, or do we need to call it?”

“You need to call it! Look at her.” Linc’s voice seems distant, even though I know he’s less than three feet from me. “She needs a doctor, now. I don’t care about the fight.”

“I do.” Shit. My voice is unrecognizable, I’m so exhausted. “I’m not giving up now, Linc. It’s five minutes. I can hold on. We’ve been working toward this for close to a year.”

“I hate to say it, Dee, but I think he’s right. You’re in agony. One more hit to the gut and your broken ribs puncture a lung.”

“No! If you stop this fight, Gray, you’re fired. Got it?”

“Got it. And if you puncture a lung, I quit. Got it?” He stares me down, ensuring I know he’s as serious as a heart attack.

Linc drops to his knees. “Diana, can you hear me?” I nod my head, unable to look him in the eye. “Look at me.”

“I can’t. If I do, I won’t be able to keep going, Linc. You can’t get me through this.”

“Look at me, Diana, right now, or I swear to fuck, I’m coming in there and stopping this shit. Fucking look at me.” He slams his hand against the cage, sending shockwaves rippling through it.

When I meet his gaze, his eyes are thick with unshed tears. “Linc… I can’t win. I’m not Dee Lex anymore. I’m not the person everyone came to watch tonight.”

“Fucking right you’re not. You’re Diana-fucking-Lexington. Listen to me. You can do this, Diana. I’ve watched you battle more than this chick can ever take from you. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You’re right, I can’t get you through this, I never could. This is all you, southpaw. Every hard-fought point. All the blood, sweat, and tears, it’s all you. You’ve done this. You got yourself here. I was just standing on the sidelines with our baby girl, loving you, and believing you’re a stronger woman for being her mother.”

“I’m not when I’m in the ring.”

“Bullshit! I watched you give birth, Diana. You stood in a stadium of thousands, in labor, and cheered me to victory. You brought our daughter into the world in a fucking speeding ambulance. You’ve got this, baby. If you ever listen to anything I say, let it be this. You’re strong enough to do this, Diana. Not us, not Gray, and not this crowd. You and you alone. Don’t do it for anyone else. I’ll love you no matter what. If you want to stop, I’ll carry you out of here right now. If you want to fight, then I will cheer the fuck out of this entire stadium for you. Say the fucking word.”

The bell rings, and my heart sinks.

“What’s it going to be, southpaw. It’s your call.”

“I’m fighting.”

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