But she was pissed at him too, so in the long run it probably evened things out.
They’d talk about this later. Yell at each other most likely. Whatever happened, it had to wait until after the fight. And she couldn’t fucking wait to get in the ring. Every bit of anger she’d felt that night at the bar with Mia resurfaced. She’d use that rage as rocket fuel.
She stayed in her corner of the room, away from the lockers. Gil had taken Fee home after the on-site medical staff had called it a mild concussion.
Maddox was in and out, shifting his duties between being ringside with his fighters during the match and making sure the upcoming fighters were ready.
Ivan wore headphones and blocked out the world as he got set to fight. Deacon hadn’t come back after he followed Knox out of the room.
If looks could kill, she would’ve been dead.
She paced in her corner, running through drills in her head. She hadn’t stepped in the ring in months, since she’d filled in at another smoker and fought Fee. Since Fee was the lone female fighter at Black Arts, they’d fought another half a dozen times. After sparring with her, Shiori wasn’t sure she’d win if she was put in the ring with Fee again for real.
But she sure as fuck would win against Mia.
Maddox bounded in and grabbed Ivan. He gave her the thumbs-up and then she was alone.
Clear your mind. Visualize yourself winning. Visualize Mia bleeding as Knox gives you the victory kiss.
She couldn’t allow her thoughts to keep bouncing back to Knox. She needed to focus. In times like this the only thing that quieted her mind was recitation. Poems, plays, prayers, business philosophies, multiplication tables. She turned her mind inward and time lost any meaning.
The door to the room slammed. Footsteps came closer. A hand pressed into her knee.
Shiori opened her eyes and felt a quick pang of disappointment that Maddox crouched in front of her, not Knox.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s head out.”
She waited outside the entrance to the arena. She tuned out the music and the crowd, focusing on her anger. Maddox nudged her and they started the trek to the ring.
Ringside the ref checked her over. Gloves, clothing, mouth guard. Everything was in place.
Then she climbed up the stairs, bowing before she entered the ring. She bounced on the balls of her feet as a warm-up and swung her arms, giving Mia her back.
Maddox set up ringside. “All right. You know what to do. Watch her hip throws. She’s got a vicious uppercut. She’ll switch it up and try to get you to look at how she shuffles her feet, and then she’ll clock you. Don’t fall for it.”
Shiori nodded.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen, this is the last bout of the evening. In the women’s featherweight division, in the black corner, is our replacement fighter, with an amateur record of one win, zero losses, hailing all the way from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-two pounds, representing Black Arts dojo, Shiori ‘She-Cat’ Hirano.
“And in the silver corner, with an amateur record of eighteen wins and four losses, and a professional record of six wins and zero losses, from Denver, Colorado, weighing in at one hundred and thirty-two pounds, representing Steve Atwood dojo, Mia ‘the Meat Grinder’ Sedladcheck.”
Wait. What? Mia had a professional record and an amateur record? How was that possible at a smoker?
“Ladies, here are the rules.”
As the ref read the rules Shiori reconnected with that burning hatred as she looked at Mia, who seemed a lot bulkier than she remembered.
“Touch gloves.”
Neither did. They returned to their corners.
The bell dinged and it was on.
Mia came at her hard and fast from the start. She did a dive roll that knocked Shiori off her feet, but Shiori recovered fast and narrowly missed a takedown.
Then Mia started to kick. She’d pull in close and try to land some punches, and when she backed off, she’d level a slapping front kick to the inside of Shiori’s right leg. Mia connected with that move six times before Shiori switched her fighting stance.
But as soon as she did that, Mia abandoned the kicks and charged her for a takedown. She got ahold of Shiori’s waist, performing a judo hip throw that put Shiori on her side.
Ow. Fuck. At least she hadn’t knocked the wind out of her.
Shiori arched and spun on her back, but that just put Mia in guard position. And Shiori couldn’t get a reversal when she was busy dodging Mia’s blows. Mia nailed her in the jaw, and she could taste blood from her lip. She was completely in a defensive position.