Pierce Her Stepbrother

by Saffron Daughter

  I just grin at her, but leave without answering.

  The truth is, I’ve been considering it.

  *

  “I want you to stop fighting.”

  I look at her, and she’s glaring at me. There’s this sudden tension in the room. The exhaust fan from the bathroom now sounds like a jumbo jet engine.

  “What? Why?” I ask, sitting up and putting the issue of Fighters Weekly I was reading down. I wince as the movement makes my bruises hurt. It was a fight night a couple of days ago, but the bruises are still dark purple. I’m healing slower than usual; maybe I’m getting old.

  She points at me as I cradle my abdomen. The bruise is still dark purple. “That’s why, Pierce. That is fucking why.”

  I can see she’s angry now. “What do you care?” I lob carelessly. I don’t even know why I say it, I just do. Even sometimes I’m surprised at how assholish I can be.

  “What do I care?” she echoes, putting her palms up in frustration. “It’s because I do fucking care, Pierce! If I didn’t care about you getting hurt, then I wouldn’t care about you fighting. I mean, are you serious? What do I care? Are you that stupid? Do you have no capacity for empathy at all?”

  “Penny, it’s all I know how to do.”

  “No it’s not. That’s bullshit and you know it. You tend bar in between fights, so you already have a job. You don’t need it.”

  “The bar doesn’t pay enough.”

  “Then get another job!” she says, slapping her thighs. “I hate worrying about you. It’s stressing me out. I can’t take it anymore.”

  She sits next to me on the sofa, and she pokes where my ribs are bruised.

  “Ow!”

  “I don’t like that,” she says. “I don’t like knowing that you can be seriously hurt. I don’t like knowing that you can be arrested and put in jail for doing this.”

  “I won’t go to jail.”

  “You’ll still have a record!”

  “So you want me to stop the one thing I love because—”

  I stop mid-sentence. Her eyes are wider now.

  “The one thing you love?”

  “Pen—”

  “You know, it’s not a bad thing that I don’t want you fighting twice a month. It’s not a bad thing that I actually care about you in a way, I suspect, many other people don’t. You are fucking lucky to have me, that I’ve stuck around.”

  I think about retorting, but she’s right. Not many people can put up with me. Somehow, she can. Somehow, she can take it. She’s a tough girl. I admire her, and I respect her, but I also hate that she’s right.

  “And I want you to think about something else. I want you to think about everybody you make worry each time you win a fight.”

  “Each time I win?” I say.

  “Yeah. You beat the shit out of some new kid who thinks he can fight, but doesn’t know what he’s getting into. Or that guy that gets unlucky on the name pull, and gets you in the first round. You knock him out, send him home bruised and bloodied.”

  “They know what they’re getting into.”

  “But do their wives? Do their girlfriends? Do their mothers? Do their children?”

  I have nothing to say. I’ve never considered it like this before.

  “Pen—”

  “This is what I want, Pierce. If you love me, if you care about me, you need to do this for me. I need you to do this for me.”

  She takes my hand and she clutches it at her chest. I can see tears in her eyes and its breaking my heart. I hate that I’ve hurt her. I hate that simply being me has hurt her.

  “I need this,” she says. Her voice is sticky.

  I love her. I never want to hurt her. I want to protect her, stop her from ever being hurt again.

  “Fine,” I say, and let out a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ll stop.”

  “Thank you,” she says, and I pull her in for a hug, and she clasps her arms around me. It hurts, but I don’t care. I’ll take the pain any day if it means I can have her.

  I realize it for the first time that I’m actually sacrificing something for her. It’s the first time I’ve ever sacrificed for anyone.

  It’s… not as bad as I thought it would be.

  “You don’t have to be away from fighting,” she said.

  “I won’t watch it. It’ll just make me want to get in the cage.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  She sits up, and now she’s smiling, and she’s excited. I can tell she’s been thinking about this, that she’s got a plan.

  She’s just that. She’s always got a plan. It’s something so remarkable about her.

  “Why don’t you teach?”

  “Teach? What, like kids?”

  “Yeah. Or teenagers, or whatever. Look, you’re clearly good at what you do. Go get certified, get your black belt or whatever you need to get, and then open up a shop. You’re a local legend, you’ll have hordes of men and boys lining up to learn from you.”

  Penny’s making a good point. “You’re right,” I say.

  “But on one condition.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t encourage them to join underground fight leagues. They have to fight legally only.”

  “MMA is illegal here.”

  “Then teach standard boxing. Or teach a variety of styles, but instruct your students not to join the underground leagues. They are dangerous. People fucking die in them, Pierce. This is serious stuff! It’s bad. It’s objectively bad.”

  “I could do that,” I say. “But it’ll take months to get off the ground, to get my certification, to get—”

  “What, have you never planned long term in your life? Yeah, it’ll take time. Things do. You need to grow up, and just accept that this is a part of life. Nothing that comes easily is worth it in the long run. Work for it. Look at me. I’m working for my dream.”

  “You think I’m too used to instant gratification? You think I don’t have the discipline?’

  “You punch someone, knock their teeth out, get your money, and then go blow it on expensive champagne and cocaine, or on that stupid car you’ve got. It’s time to cut that shit out.”

  “I like my Porsche.” I sigh. “Okay. I am hearing you, Pen. I am hearing you. I’ll stop.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “I appreciate that.”

  We sit together in silence for a while, and I kiss her forehead. I’ve never enjoyed just cuddling with a girl before; I’ve always been gone before dawn, but I could sit here forever with her.

  “Will you design my logo?”

  “I’m not that kind of artist, Pierce.”

  “Bullshit. I’ve seen you draw. You do it amazingly.”

  She grins. “Fine, I’ll design your logo.”

  “Also, I want to get another tattoo.”

  “Where?’

  “I want the silhouette of two fighters in a cage. Right here, on my thigh. Where I can see it.”

  “You want me to do that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fine.”

  “You still got that stupid idea in your head for a Prince Albert?”

  “You know, I saw the video of the procedure you sent me, and I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “You’re such a pansy,” she says, and I laugh. “You can take a kick to the face but you get squeamish about getting a piercing that hurts only a bit more than an earlobe.”

  “Hey, it’s my junk,” I say. “Besides, I don’t know if I ever really wanted one. Maybe I just wanted to rile you up.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you,” she says. “You’re a dick like that.”

  *

  epilogue

  Two months later…

  She’s locking up the tattoo shop, bending over to padlock the steel shutters she’s just pulled closed.

  God, she has a great fucking ass. I walk up quickly behind her, and wind up my hand to smack it, but she stands up straight. She doesn’t turn around.

  “You’re not exactly stealt
hy, you know.”

  “You saw me?” I asked, and I grab her from behind her wrap her up in my arms. I bury my nose into her hair, smelling her, before kissing her up the back of her neck, right into the nook behind her ear. She smells the best there.

  “Crossing the street.”

  “I tried to stick to the shadows.”

  “How romantic of you.”

  “Thought I’d surprise you tonight, and take you out for dinner.”

  She twists around in my arms, and looks up at me, grinning. I see this spark in her eyes, and know that something is different tonight. The look of complete joy on her face somehow makes me feel happier. When she’s happy, her moods are so infectious.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Where are you going to take me for dinner?”

  “I thought we’d try the Japanese place near Glenhuntly? It is your favorite.”

  “No, not tonight,” she says. “I want something different, something new.”

  “Um, I know they opened a new Mexican place in Northcote.”

  “No. Let’s go to an all-day breakfast place.”

  “All-day breakfast?” I ask, kissing her on her lips. Her lower lip feels so soft in my own, and I wet it quickly with my tongue, and give it a soft bite. “That’s not exactly new.”

  “It’s what I feel like.”

  “What’s the special occasion?”

  “Guess.”

  We start walking, hand in hand. It’s dark, and we’re in a place where there have been a recent spate of muggings. But I’m Pierce Fletcher. Nobody is going to fuck with my girl.

  “You, uh, did a tattoo today?”

  “I did,” she says. “But it’s something else. Something bigger.”

  “Um, you won the lottery?”

  “Ha, I wish. No, Tina said I could start taking on my own clients.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask. She nods rapidly, and I see tears in her eyes. “That’s amazing, Pen.”

  “She also wants me to work alongside her, says if I’m willing, she’d be willing to help brand me under her name, you know? She says she really loves my style.”

  There’s tears down either side of her cheeks now, and though I always knew in theory, it only just hits me now exactly how much she cares about this, how big a dream this is for her.

  I’d always wanted to fight because I was good at it, not because I truly loved it. I didn’t truly love anything in life until I met her.

  And now that I know, I can only look back at the way I treated her… what she loved with disrespect. I’m not one for regrets or introspection – that shit wastes too much fucking time – but right now, there’s a part of me that’s being selfish and indulging in it.

  “I always knew you’d get there.”

  “Shut up, you haven’t even known me for that long. Don’t try and wax romantic, you’re no good at it.”

  “What does this mean about your visa?”

  “Said she’d sponsor me for a work visa, hire me outright. I’d no longer be a visiting artist.” She laughs, wipes her cheeks dry. “Sorry, it’s just, I worked so hard for this.”

  “I know you did.”

  “I left my dad behind, all alone, so I could come out here and do this. Because I had this opportunity.”

  “But why Australia?” I ask. “I never understood it.”

  “I had to apprentice under Tina.”

  “But surely there are other artists who are just as—”

  “You don’t understand, Pierce.” She grips my hand and shakes her head. “No, maybe that’s not true. Would you have wanted to train to fight under anyone else?”

  “You mean, instead of Uncle James?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No,” I say. “Ever since I first saw him on black and white tape, I knew I wanted to fight like him, to be trained by him.”

  “There you go,” she says. “It’s like that.”

  “Car’s around here,” I say.

  “No,” she says. “I want to walk. I want to walk tonight. Do you mind?”

  “No, Pen. Let’s walk.”

  She leans her head on my shoulder, and I kiss the top of her head. So much has changed in the last six months.

  No… that doesn’t feel true. She hasn’t changed all that much. She’s just as strong, just as, well, right as she always was.

  No, it’s me that’s changed. I blink. I didn’t even see it coming.

  “How was class today?” she asks.

  “Two of my boys came in high,” I say, laughing. “Fuckers. I made them hit the rope for thirty.”

  “You made them jump rope for thirty minutes when they were high? On what?”

  “Oh, just a bit of weed. But yes. They can’t fight if they’ve got the giggles.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Jackson and his buddy Thom.”

  “What? They’re like fourteen!”

  “Kids these days,” I say, shaking my head and scoffing. “I would never have fucked around when I was fourteen.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she says. She’s rubbing my arm absent-mindedly, but it makes my whole body tingle. It’s like I can’t get enough of her touch.

  “I’ve put out an ad.”

  “Oh, yeah? Any bites?”

  “This one bloke from Geelong, says he’s part of the fighting association there. Says he wants to move to Melbourne and work with me.”

  “The legendary Pierce Fletcher,” Penny says. “Must be nice being a local celebrity.”

  “Yeah, except for the mothers who give me death stares in the supermarket.”

  “Can’t win them all, Pierce.”

  We walk in silence for a while, and I become aware that she has stiffened up. There’s now a tension in the air.

  “I told my dad about us,” she says.

  It checks me for a split-second, but only that. Then I start laughing.

  “You’ve got balls of steel.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “Well, you’re half the world away.”

  “This was like two weeks ago.”

  I stop and peer at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just… I had to be honest with my dad, and see his reaction. I was going to tell you, but only after I sorted it out with him.”

  I can’t deny that I feel a little annoyed by it – this does concern me as well – but what’s done is done. I shrug. “Fair enough.”

  “You’re upset.”

  “Not really. Just not used to being left out of the loop.”

  “It’s complicated with my dad. He needed me before, you know? I left him. Alone.”

  “He’s not alone. He’s got my mother.”

  “He said he and your mom will cancel their marriage.”

  “What?” I ask. That was unexpected.

  “He says she’ll write to you.”

  “My mother never trusted email. Did he say why?”

  “No. He said don’t ask. But… my feeling is they did it for us.”

  I push my lips together, and we resume walking again, this time slower as we both contemplate that fact.

  They did it for us.

  “So we won’t be stepsister and stepbrother anymore, huh?”

  “No,” she says. “Does that change anything?”

  “I couldn’t give a fuck,” I say, shrugging. “Stepsister or not, I’ll still love you.”

  “You’re such a poet.”

  “A man can’t be good at everything,” I say. “Just most things. Just the important things.”

  “Important things, huh?” she asks, laughing. “What are you good at that’s important? Dodging a kick and landing an upper cut?”

  “I’m good at making you come,” I say.

  She looks like she’s about to tell me to not be so vulgar, or to not talk about our sex life in the open, but she just nods.

  “You are. But that’s not the most important thing.”

  “I know,” I say. “I was just pi
cking out an example. You know, at random.”

  “I guess they did it to make our lives easier, since my dad must have talked to your mom about us being together.”

  “Probably. I guess we got luckier than Chance and Cassie.”

  Penelope scrunches up her brow, and cocks her head back. “What?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Know what?” she exclaims. “No! They aren’t as well, are they?”

  “They are!” I say, laughing. “Oh, man, Rose didn’t tell you?”

  “No!”

  “Yeah, they got together last year. He followed her to England.”

  “No shit.”

  “No shit,” I echo. “Honest to God it’s the truth.”

  “Do their parents know?”

  “I don’t think so,” I say.

  “And their parents are still married?”

  I nod. “As far as I know.”

  “Then I guess we did get lucky.”

  “Unless that sort of forbidden thing turns you on.”

  She pauses for a moment.

  “No! It does?” I ask.

  “Hey, it’s not like I can choose what I find hot,” she says.

  “Will I be less hot to you as your not-stepbrother?”

  “You’re not that insecure, Pierce. Don’t go fishing.”

  “Well, I’d still like to know.”

  “You’ll just have to wait and see,” she says, pushing a finger into my chest. “Motivation not to let yourself go, maybe?”

  “Please,” I scoff. “Look at this body. If I let myself go I’d still look better than ninety-nine percent of guys.”

  “I see your ego’s as healthy as ever.”

  “Just calling it like it is, Pen. Where are we going, anyway?”

  “The all-day breakfast place in St. Kilda.”

  “Which one?”

  “Oh, just let me take you there.”

  “Do they have bacon?”

  Her eyes grow wide, and her grin wider. “Oh, yeah. It’s a buffet.” I see her lick her lips, and we both start laughing.

  “I bet you I can eat more than you.”

  “I’m celebrating tonight,” she says. “So, no, I don’t think you will be able to. Especially since you’ve got such a precious body to look after.”

  A drunken man stumbles up to us. He’s got a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and he motions for a lighter.