“You’re right,” Chris said. “It is your first day back. Things aren’t going to get any easier. You have to accept that.”
“Can we go over strategy? Talk about what we’re doing? Something? Can you clue me in?”
“This is the strategy,” Ruben replied. “Chris and I are splitting the training fifty-fifty every day. He gets you first, then I do. We want you tired before we start hitting the pads. Exhausted and pushed to the brink. We are going to get you prepped for this to go right to the last round. You are going to be fitter than you’ve ever been. You are going to take everything she throws at you. She won’t get the drop on you again.”
“OK,” Ava said, pressing her fingers to her scalp. “But enough for today, OK?”
The whistle sounded and Veronica made her way forward. Her sparring partner jinked her way around the ring, faking a punch before throwing a quick jab. Veronica honed in, her mind as sharp as a trap. She blocked the attempted strike and twisted her body, sending a vicious side kick to her partner’s head. Then another.
Her opponent crumbled to the ground, and the whistle blew. Her trainer shouldn’t have bothered. The other fighter wasn’t getting up anytime soon.
“Hey!” Pete called out. “Take it easy. It’s just practice.”
“We done?” Veronica asked, shaking her hair free.
“We weren’t supposed to be. You gotta take it slow with this. We are training, yeah? Rushing it and kicking the shit out of the people helping you train isn’t going to help.”
Veronica shrugged and walked off. “If they can’t handle it, that’s their problem. Get me another one. I’ll be on the treadmill.”
“V!” Pete called out to her.
“I said get me another one. Call me when they can take a fucking punch.”
31
“One, two! One, two!”Ruben called, which Ava responded to by swinging hard.
In her mind, she was taken back to their very first training session together. The routines were quite similar. The biggest difference was the location. Before she was in a gym. Now, they were standing on Wanda Beach in Cronulla on a crisp Sunday morning. Barely a soul in sight save for Chris, and at his first ever training session, her dad.
Six weeks after the attack and she was getting stronger, no doubt, but this was her second straight hour with Ruben. She hadn’t even done Chris’ torture session yet. Whatever the hell that would be out here.
Ava finished her combo, and Ruben picked up her bottle. She drenched her face and head with the last of her water.
“Can I get some more water, please?”
“Not yet, we are almost done. Think fast!” he said, snapping a jab at her face.
Ava jerked out of the way, but the punch still glanced off her cheek.
“C’mon, babes! Smarten up!”
“For fucks sake!” Ava snapped, shivering in the same motion as trying to shake off the jarring effect of being hit. Sometimes the glancing blows were worse than being hit full on. She felt off and had for a while. Attacking, she was getting better at, but her defence was rubbish. Even she knew it. What used to be so clear and fluid in her mind was now a complex puzzle.
“Mid kicks. Let’s go.”
Ava adjusted and swung as hard as she could.
“Good. Now the other side.”
Ava swallowed, heaving in air and trying to not show concern. Her bad leg had given her grief ever since the fight. She had this unnerving feeling it hadn’t healed right. She’d mentioned her concerns to both boys, and had immediately been taken for x-rays, but they showed nothing. General bruising and inflammation but that was all. Ava didn’t care what the scans showed. Something wasn’t right, and it terrified her to think that she was broken. Nash had destroyed her when fully fit, she would bury her if Ava went into the rematch less than one-hundred percent.
Ava struck the pad with her bad leg, causing a light popping sound from the force.
“C’mon that’s too low. Harder.”
Ava pressed her lips together and kicked again. A sharp burn flowed through her leg.
“Harder!”