The Champ was standing. His eyes swim for a second, pause, and then return to their former place of residence. He blinks twice, nods to indicate his sense of self awareness.
Two seconds after overcoming his first challenge, he’s met with a second. This time it comes in the form of a left hook, and it sends him reeling. He’s not sure if its his entire life flashing before his eyes, or just a greatest hits list, but something’s flashing.
He remembers crashing. The feeling of relief when he opened his door and realized he’d walk away from this one. How quickly that relief vanished when he saw who wouldn’t be walking away, ever. Dear God he’d loved his little girl.
He shakes his head, snaps back to present tense. Ducks a right hook, finds an opening, sinks a meaty paw into an exposed abdomen. He’s the goddamn Champ. Don’t give him a-
never saw the uppercut.
Not a crash this time. A bit sharper, a higher pitch. A bang. He remembered finding her body. He remembered finding the gun. He remembered-