Knockout (Gaslight spin-off)

23| Just a liability

I don't have to see his face to know my savior is Nico. He stands with his back to me, arm outstretched in a warning to Danny, who is frozen to the sidewalk. Considering Nico is three times his size, it's a smart decision.

"That bitch hit me first," Danny hisses, "and if you weren't in my way, I'd have knocked her out." 

That was Danny's second mistake. In one quick move, Nico grabs Danny by the front of his t-shirt and shoves him against the wall. Danny's friend shouts a strangled "Hey!" but doesn't get out of his car. In fact, he locks the doors.

My skin prickles. I'll admit, I hadn't been scared when it was me against Danny – I'm pretty sure Danny couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag – but Nico's arrival alarms me. I've seen what he's capable of in the ring when restrained by rules and regulations; I can only imagine him outside of it.

Nico's voice comes hard and fast. "You'd have done what?"

A look I've never seen before crosses Nico's face. He towers over Danny, his fingers still clenched in Danny's shirt, looking seconds away from sending this kid to sleep.

If I ever wanted to know what Danny looks like seconds from pissing himself, this is it. "Nothing," he says, raising his hands, "let go of me, man."

Nico doesn't move for a solid three seconds. Then, jaw narrowed, he unclenches his hands from the front of Danny's t-shirt and gives him a hard look. "Get out of here."

I've never seen Danny move so fast. His friend unlocks the car, and Danny scrambles into the passenger seat before the pair screech off into the night. I clutch my bloody hand, staring after their fading headlights with a feeling of bewilderment. What the hell just happened?

Nico looks over and notices my hand. "Come on," he says and leads the way inside.

As I follow him upstairs, my eyes pass over the several quotes with a feeling of shame. The thing about anger is that it's hot and bright, like a flash that momentarily blinds you, but then it fades, and suddenly, it's like you can see again. Now that I can see, I don't like the girl I have to look at.

Neither of us speaks as we walk into the gym. Nico glances over, giving me an agitated look, before guiding me into the medical room. I sit on the medical chair as he rummages through the cupboards for gauze. It reminds me of the night he'd fought with Wiley and I'd tended to his eye with an ice pack. Only this time, things feel a lot more intense.

In the silence that follows, my heart pounds. With anger – and adrenaline – wearing off, I no longer feel so justified in my actions. In fact, between punching Danny and having Nico witness it, I'm downright embarrassed.

When he finds what he's looking for, he sits opposite before leaning closer. I watch as he quietly places the cotton balls, the gauze, and a bottle of disinfectant on the table beside us. Carefully, he picks up the bottle, twisting it open in a move that causes his muscles to bulge beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt.

I study the hard-set line of his jaw as he transfers the disinfectant to the cotton ball. He's still mad – whether it's at Danny or me, I'm not sure – but I do know seeing him that way had unnerved me. I'm used to the controlled version of him – the Nico that only reacts in the ring – but back there, as he stared down Danny, I caught myself questioning what he was capable of.

"Why is it," he says, not looking at me, "that you can't go a minute without getting in trouble?"

"You think this is my fault?"

His eyebrow arches in that arrogant, sardonic way he's perfected. "I think you're the common denominator. Give me your hand."

Reluctantly, I offer it up, but like a petulant child, I refuse to look at him. The truth is, even though I feel my defenses flying up, he's right. When Coach finds out about this, he won't just be disappointed; he'll kick me out of the gym.