Free PULSE: A Stepbrother Romance by Sarah Sparrows

without the big, fancy house and the full fridge. I think our Dad just
went a little…overboard with it. That’s probably all.”

 
    Sawyer seemed
only mildly convinced, crossing his arms.

 
    “So, about
this pizza…”

 
    “No, I’ve got
plans.”

 
    “Oh? That
quickly?” I bit the back of my knuckle.

 
    “That’s
right.” He seemed oddly tense.

 
    “And what are
these plans? How long are you staying
out?”

 
    “I’m not
sure.”

 
    “You’re not
sure what they are , or how
long–”

 
    “What’s with
the third degree?” Sawyer demanded, leaning up against the wall and adjusting
his crossed arms. “Back off.”

 
    I was
dumbfounded. “Look, I just…you’re all I have here. Don’t leave me alone all the
time.”

 
    For a brief
moment, regret seemed to cloud Sawyer’s face, but it was gone before I could
know for sure. “I’m going out. I don’t need any pizza. I’ll find something to
do and something to eat.”

 
    “Sawyer…”

 
    It was like
this every fucking time, just like when we were younger. I’d try to forgive and
forget him being moody, or cocky, or just an all-around asshole, but he would
just push me again. Sometimes he’d pick at me or antagonize me, but other
times…he just got so distant.

 
    Why do I even fucking bother?

 
    For a moment,
I knew the answer, but I immediately shoved it back down in my head. No. That’s not it. That CAN’T be it. I can’t
let him have that kind of power over me.

 
    “Look,” he
conceded, “I just need to get out of here, alright? I can’t be here.”

 
    “We just got here? You’re going to leave me alone
on our first night in? Aren’t you supposed to be, you know, watching over me or
something?”

 
    “Is that what
you want?” He growled. “You want me to watch your every move? Stand around and
just hover whenever you want to do anything? Or would you like to slam a door
in my face again?”

 
    “Look, that
was my underwear , you jackass ,” I snarled at him.

 
    “You’re the
one who left it out in the open. Why in the hell do you need the world’s
biggest assortment of sexy underwear anyway? Plan on moonlighting?”

 
    “NO! I…
That’s none of your business!” I said, flushing red.

 
      “I was just trying to help. And if you do want my help,” he said, throwing a
hand against one of the cabinets, “then maybe you shouldn’t piss me off. Maybe you
should stay out of my way and let me just go enjoy some of my night…the parts
of it I can salvage, anyway.”

 
    I clenched my
jaw and fought back my tears, curling my hands into fists at either side.

 
    “By the way,
the oven’s preheated.”

 
    Sawyer turned
away, disappearing from sight.

 
    Fuck you....

 
    As I
furiously glared at the spot where he’d been standing, trying to hold myself
together, I heard his footsteps retreat. A few seconds later, the sound of the
door opening and slamming shut rang out into the silence, and I broke down in
tears.

 

 
 
    SAWYER

 
    Chapter 8

 
    NEW ORLEANS

 
    FOUR
YEARS AGO

 
 
 
    A fter my first brawl, life fell into a particular
rhythm. The fights were scheduled late on the weekends – but the venue
skipped around from time to time, depending on how much of a blind eye we
received from the authorities.

 
    For the most
part, the fuzz didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about our matches. Sometimes,
that would change for a few weeks. Luckily for us, Gary had a high-ranking
friend on the force, and we were tipped off early to any increased interest.
All that meant was moving information through the network of usual spectators,
then shifting our fights somewhere else for a weekend or two.

 
    During the
week, I took up odd jobs for Gary’s bar regulars, doing more manual labor. It
was easier to manage with a roof over my head and a shower on call, and they
paid me under the table for everything.

 
    Meanwhile,
Gary pulled