Free Wrong: A Spoiled Stepbrother Romance by Pfeiffer Jayst Page B

Rent's cheaper if you’ll do a few things around the house."
    Right off the bat, it sounded like I would be signing up to be a live-in maid, not exactly an ideal situation. On the other hand, helping out some old lady would prevent me from having to rely on Derek. As much as I liked to pretend that he would spent day and night trying to win back my favor, the reality was that the second he realized I needed him more than he needed me, he'd probably go right back to taking me for granted. Absolutely none of my current options were great but unless something magically presented itself soon, I was going to have to pick between the lesser of two evils.
    "Can I get her email or, um, phone number?" I asked my new work friend who excitedly wrote the number out for me. At that moment I hoped for Derek to send me a message, to help send me a sign when I needed it, but no message came. I tucked the paper with the woman's phone number in my pocket, just in case things came to that. My new friends soon left with a polite goodbye and I prepared to return to the soulless cubicle to wish the day away.
     
    *****
     

ROUND TEN
    *****
    Rorke
    My sparring matches were always saved for the end of the day, Hubert always made sure to schedule me last. My matches came to be quite an event, every single person in that gym would line against the ring, eager to see me try and defend myself against one of the more seasoned boxers. After weeks of training though, there was now a slightly improved performance coming through. After getting the hang of the day-ending sparring matches, I started to find the rhythm, a way to keep myself from getting too banged up. I learned to anticipate the punches coming my way, no matter how fast, and was able to get in a few of my own.
    It was at the end of every grueling workout that Hubert would announce the sparring match ups, the two boxers he wanted to train together. It was supposed to be light punching, nothing major, in an effort to improve each boxer. Instead, my matches turned out to be the bloodthirsty entertainment for everyone else, full-on damaging punches thrown with the one goal seemingly to be to show me that I was still no boxer. Suddenly, I started to get encouragement when they found I wasn't backing down.
    "That's it, son!" Hubert started to yell out when I'd do something smart like block a quick punch or even land a jab against my opponent. Hubert's praise was more of a reward to me than succeeding with an effective punch, his support gave me the energy to keep going. Even though his encouragement was becoming more and more frequent, I was still regularly taking a beating. These kids I was facing were more trained, more disciplined, smarter, better, younger, faster. Once they were able to get through my defense for the first time, it was only a matter of time before they perfectly demonstrated the flaws and weaknesses in my technique.
    "Don't give up, son," Hubert would call out if he thought I was in trouble.
    "I won't quit, I'll never quit!" I proudly yelled out every time, no matter how corny it might have sounded.
    Though the entire gym had been less deliberate in their quest to actually get me to quit, there was still a bounty for the one who could actually make it happen. Everyone knew there would be a well-earned pride for the fighter who could beat the rich kid so mercilessly that he ran out with his tail between his legs. The grand prize would be the capturing of my dignity and I wasn’t willing to let that happen.
    One day, when I was feeling my most confident, Hubert threw me a bit of a curveball.
    "And lastly," Hubert announced at the end of one particularly brutal day, "we'll have Mr. Fratelli up against, how about Miller?"
    My sparring partner that day was two weight classes above my own which caused me some worry. Miller was the most feared fighter in the gym, a mountain who was known to never show mercy. Though in the back of my mind I knew I would eventually be paired with him, I