“Didn’t you hear me? This isn’t some Mickey Mouse bullshit, it’s the real deal. You can’t just walk in that ring for a real fight, you’ll get yourself killed.”
After watching my father conduct business over the years, I had thankfully picked up on some negotiating tactics.
“Let me help your fighters get ready for that fight. Let me be their punching bag. Do whatever you want, let them practice on a live person instead of a bag.”
He actually started to look intrigued. “And what happens when you quit after one day? I told you, I don’t need anyone wasting our time.”
“All I’m asking for is a chance to be in that fight. Tell you what, if I quit, at any point before making it to the fight, I’ll pay you double the purse.” This was not money I had or money I had a realistic shot at obtaining but I knew that it would provide the both of us with the incentive we needed to make this happen. Hubert was right, I most likely would quit after getting the crap kicked out of me one too many times but the deal I was making wouldn’t allow me to.
“You’ll fight as an independent. You’re not going to represent my gym,” he said while extending his hand, a sign that the terms were accepted. I gladly shook his hand without forcing myself to realize the hell I had just signed up for.
A quick smile and nod and I started to make my way out of the office, thinking to myself about how proud my father might have been if he had been able to witness the finesse at which I was able to broker that deal.
“Hey, where you going?” Hubert asked once my back turned.
“I don’t know, I figured we would start in the morning? Since I’ve already worked out a little today?” I apologetically asked. Hubert’s arms folded over his chest and his smile practically lit up the room.
“Your training starts now, son. That is, unless you want to quit already…”
It was time to show I was a man of my word and as tough as I insisted I was. A succession of quick nods of my head followed as I waited to learn my fate.
“How about to start, twenty-five laps around the gym, fast as you can. None of this olè bullshit neither, show me how hard you can push yourself,” he insisted before returning to his papers. As I left his office, all eyes in the gym turned to me, all of the fighters ready to watch me leave humiliated with my tail between my legs. Each one of them looked perplexed as I began to run as fast as I could around the perimeter of the gym. My head held high as my mind envisioned changing their opinions of me, showing them just how tough I was.
“Faster!” I heard yelled from the opposite end of the gym. A very stern-faced Hubert was pointing right at me, asserting his dominance over his confused flock. Without any choice, I picked up the speed and was soon sprinting my way through the grueling twenty-five laps.
*****
ROUND FOUR
*****
Madelyn
My eyes were fixated into the rear-view mirror for way too long, watching my beloved Middleton shrinking out of view. That quaint town was where I became an adult, survived independently, went all the way, fell in love and now I was forced to flee. How could I stay there? Using the same roads and sidewalks as my low-down dirty EX boyfriend and tramp of a FORMER best friend? Forget it. Plus, even if I did try and look to find my own place, I had no money. Becca and I were gonna split all bills down the middle as I worked in the lab. There was no way to afford freedom in the town I loved if I were on my own. Just a day earlier, with a lump in my throat I had to turn down the internship I had fought so hard for. They said they understood and to contact them when I got my things in order but we both knew in a few weeks, they wouldn't even remember who I was. After working so hard through four years of college, I had anticipated entering the world with a bang. Instead, through intense sobs and dry heaves, I had been forced to pack my entire life into a truck and began my next, sad chapter: moving back in with my mother.
Her offer at the restaurant was clear as day: “You should move in with me,” she said, “spend some time so we can get close again.” We didn't discuss it further at the time because I had what I thought was a committed boyfriend and a trustworthy best friend. I had no idea my whole life was about to disappear. What bothered me the most out of all of this was my mother's lack of concern and interest when she finally did return my texts and voicemails. She made me promise her that I had checked twice with literally everyone I knew. Nobody was offering me a place to stay, I really had nowhere else to go.
"I'm not sure you'd like it here. Are you absolutely sure that there's nowhere else you can go?" she repeated several times while also demanding that I "calm down". The urgency of my situation was lost on her. It took almost an hour of shameless begging on my part until she finally relented, begrudgingly agreeing to let me stay with her and Carmine for a very short time. Though the situation smelled foul, I knew I needed to take what I could get. This new stepfather I was imposing on, I was going to do everything in my power to impress him, make him proud to call me his daughter. I'd be the model guest as long as I was there. I even pledged to be pleasant to that smarmy, cocky, spoiled stepbrother of mine, if he ever came around. I'd let him do his thing if he'd let me do mine. I promised myself this through gritted teeth as the very thought of this 'Rorke' made my stomach turn.
"No, Maddie! You have to be careful!" my mother yelled when I started clearing some branches with the truck's height. She was visibly bothered and waved her arms as I pulled up the long driveway to Carmine Fratelli's estate. She was wearing pajama bottoms and a robe, a large, ceramic blue coffee mug attached to her hand, as always. It was too late to stop, either direction I went was gonna drag these branches somewhere. I shrugged at her and continued forward, the squeaky sound of the lumber scraping let me know I was definitely doing some damage. When she came marching towards me, I knew I was in for something. Her stern, reddening face let me know that she was about to unload on me. Hoping to diffuse the situation by being angry first, I asked “Mom, what?” before the driver's side window was even all the way down.
"Don't you, 'mom, what' at me, young lady," she started. It was hard to take her seriously when I was so elevated and she was so far away on the ground. Looking down at her head as it craned up at me just made her look like an indignant ant. Her words, while rapid and sharp, didn't hit with the blows she intended.
"You are asking a big favor to come live here, especially this close to the wedding. You had better mind your P's and fucking Q's because this isn't my apartment you can trash. This," the sweeping motion with her arm looked well rehearsed, a gesture she had likely practiced to reveal the mansion she had proudly fell in to, "this ain't mine. This entire property of nice things belongs to the most powerful man in town, Carmine Fratelli, my future husband." This was also part of her memorized speech, something I could imagine her yelling at the help. Mom was drunk with power and someone had to reel her in.
"Mom, what happened to getting to know each other a little better?" my puppy-dog eyes didn't seem to be melting her like I had hoped. A pointed finger and extra-dour face drove home the point that she was stubbornly serious.
"Your best behavior, kiddo," she demanded of me, "cause he'll kick you out without even blinking."
After she had exhausted all of her lecture, Mom waved the truck over to a tiny carriage house off to the side of the property. As I carefully maneuvered the truck over, I couldn't help but think that it had likely been built as servant quarters. It was quaint but I would certainly have my privacy, they wouldn't even know I was there. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. In that moment, I did feel some relief, I truly believed that I had hit the jackpot. Bouncing out of the truck, I was brought back to Earth when I saw that Mother was still pouting.
"You two better get along," Mother insisted before begrudgingly handing over the keys. I immediately assumed that she had meant my new stepfather. Sure, no problem. I wouldn't get in his way and would gladly give my blessing for their marriage. Unless he was beating my mom, she seemed happy and I had
no reason to try and get in the way. Hell, what did I even know about successful relationships?
"I'm not sure if he's home, if he's in there," she continued while pointing at the carriage house.
"Mr. Fratelli? Your husband lives in there? Where I'm staying?"
Mom looked confused at first and then lightened up a little, “Oh, no, Rorke. Oh yeah, guess I should've mentioned that you'll be sharing this space with your new stepbrother. To be honest, I don't really know if he's ever home or if he's home all the time? Hmmm,” she wondered to herself as the heat started to reach boil underneath my collar. It wouldn't have surprised me if steam started to shoot out of my ears.
"No, Mother," I said as calmly and non-confrontational as possible. My fists clenched to help control the anger so strong it surprised me. "You never told me I would be sharing the space...with him."
"Oh," her hand met her lips in mock-apology, "I'm sorry. Guess I forgot," her face smarted in mock apology. I was left to wonder why everyone in my life had suddenly turned into such assholes. With all my strength I reminded myself that this was my only option and I would have to stomach all the shit shoveled my way. Eat shit and smile.
My nodding indicated to Mother that all was ok so she simply said "Goodbye," and turned to head back to the large mansion she now called home. No look back, no 'hey, do you need any help?'. Nothing. I would be moving my boxes all by my lonesome but didn't forget: eat shit and smile. Even if that gross, slimy stepbrother came by and even if he insisted on helping, I'd tell him it would be fine to do it by myself. As my gloved hands pulled the metal ramp out of the truck and pointed it the first door I saw, I imagined the many different ways I planned on rejecting my new stepbrother's attempts to show me up.
"Pound sand, dude," I played out in my head, "and stay out of my way."
I'd set the tone early in the beginning, letting him know his rich playboy shit wasn't gonna work on me, he'd have to learn to respect me and stay out of my way. Then, if all went according to plan, in no time at all my life would be back in order and, poof, he'd be out of my life and we would never have to interact again.
The reality of my new stepbrother became clearer once I pushed open that side door; the remnants of his existence were everywhere, the place was a complete mess. Pizza boxes, gym shorts, socks and even underwear were thrown all over the place. Magazines were all over every flat surface, looking as if someone just took a stack and threw them up in the air, letting them fall where they may. Dishes filled the sink and the trashcan was overflowing. The scores of “help” that I saw buzzing around the estate clearly didn’t venture into this carriage house, the responsibility to clean was seemingly mine now.
Before beginning the great unpack, I wandered around a little, checking the house out and trying to figure out what room I was supposed to take. It was hard not to notice the pictures my new stepbrother had hung up around the place, pictures of him that had never appeared on any trashy, gossip website. I'm not proud to admit that my first thought was about how much money I could get if I leaked these photos to the media. Of course deep down I knew I could never sell out someone so hard, I wasn’t ice cold like Becca and Derick. It was still fun though to fantasize for a moment that I could actually do something so wrong.
What popped up next in my head shocked me: I was suddenly realizing just how handsome Rorke was. My new stepbrother certainly took care of himself (even if he didn't take care of his living quarters). He was blessed with an insane set of genetics; sparkling teeth, perfectly symmetrical face, cheeky smile, he was genetically disposed to be good looking no matter if he was born into wealth or not. It was only an added blessing for him to fall ass backwards into over a billion (with a 'b') dollars. Of course that fact only helped add to his attractiveness. My head shook, reminding myself that thinking in that way was “wrong” and to stop entertaining such thoughts immediately. Eww, gross. He was a pig and more importantly, that pig was now family.
There didn't seem to be any space at all set aside for me. There were just two doors down the hall and one clearly had his bed in it. The next room kind of looked like office? I don't know, he had a small desk in there and some weights lying down on the floor. Figuring it was the best bet, I started to pull his things out of that room and place them in the middle of the busy living room. Not like he'd even notice a little more chaos added on top of what was already there. After a deep breath, I started the long, arduous process of emptying all of my earthly possessions out of the sweltering tin can I had rented. I’m sure I looked extra attractive sweating like crazy while trying to get all of my heavy, heavy things out of that rolling stove and into the cramped half bedroom. This felt like the hardest I had ever physically pushed my body but I would not break, I had to remain strong.
Pulling the last box out caused an internal celebration to break out inside of me, so happy to finally be done with at least this part of my day. That last box meant that I had successfully moved my entire life physically across the state. All by myself. This was a new Madelyn, independent and strong, and she would ensure anything.
Again, without anybody coming out of the woodwork to come help, I needed to go return the truck and get my car back all by myself. It would be great to have somebody, anybody, just to keep me company but that wasn’t going to happen. It had been such a lonely day. After checking again for hands, I was resigned to the fact that this would be a solo mission.
One quick check of the time made me realize that I had a little time leftover to relax and clear my head before I’d have to drive that truck back. My first thought was to try and nap a little but I knew that would risk oversleeping and missing the drop-off time for the truck. There was really only one other way I knew to get myself recharged in the quickest way possible. After assuring that there was nobody else in the entire carriage house, I softly closed the door to the little office bedroom.
Unsure of how much time I had before I wasn't alone anymore, I peeled off the t-shirt I was wearing, just a tight, black sports bra underneath. Easy to slide up when I needed some closer access to my already hard nipples. Though trying to get lost in fantasy, I kept one eye open and trained on the door, prepared to be able to revert to casual human position without giving any indication that my fingers were readying to plunge deep inside of myself. The door remained stationary as I carried myself away to my special place.
The thoughts I had cued up in my mind were of treasured times from my past, times where Derek introduced me to a new world. There was the first time we made out passionately in the front seat of his car (while I had kept my clothes on, I did straddle him the driver's seat, easy to feel his hardened cock as it pushed past my dress and directly against my damp panties). We steamed up the windows of his car, partially blocking the moonlight that slightly illuminated the car with a blue tint.
Next I began to get really worked up by remembering the first time we had actually done it. It was my first time and he said his second (who knows if that were true). It was my sophomore year of school and his junior year. His roommate was out of town and Derek had told me he loved me. That night, while it did hurt a little, blew my mind. Emotions that were rare and typically short-lived now fired on all cylinders and combined with other emotions I didn't know how to control. I felt more alive yet more vulnerable than ever. Everything had changed and I learned to pick the parts I liked and hold them close.
Derek was amazingly supportive and patiently waited for me to prepare and adjust as needed that first time. He held me close when I started to sniffle for no reason and he laughed along with me when I started to chuckle uncontrollably. I must've come off as a crazy person but he weathered it all, my wide range of emotions as I tried to figure out who I was again. Lucky for him, I soon craved the feeling of him inside of me, our two bodies becoming one as we moved together. Just the next morning I surprised him by mounting my naked body on top of his and taking him inside of me again.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Before I could even
open my eyes to confirm that I hadn’t imagined it, the sound of a male voice suddenly appearing sent a million and one alarms to go off in my head. My first instinct was to try and cover up, my body scrambled to get small and hide the fact that my wet fingers had only seconds ago been deep inside of myself.
When I did horrifically confirm that this was my first impression on my new stepbrother, I could've died. He didn't appear to be even slightly concerned. Instead, as I wiggled around uncomfortably on the bed, desperately trying to reposition my clothes, he grinned from ear to ear, his hands rubbing together as he boldly attempted to join me on the mattress.
“Hey, no, no, no,” my arms extended and stiffened to keep our distance. My freshly slicked fingers pressed flatly against his rock-hard chest as he tried desperately to remove his own shirt.
“C'mon,” Rorke begged as he tried anything he could to get us closer together. His head bobbed from side-to-side as he continued to beg and move with the gracefulness of a trained boxer. “C'mon, who sent you? What'd they pay for? An hour? Two?”
So this is how the other half lives? My new stepbrother was used to girls being “sent” to him and had no objection to the fact that somebody somewhere was exchanging money in order for him to get off. He disgusted me. My clothes thankfully soon found their rightful position and I shoved him back as hard and as far as I could.
“Jesus, man,” I told him while maintaining a safe distance from the hornball, “I'm your stepsister, you creep.” My knees pulled closer to my body as I readied my foot to hit him square in the face if he tried to come any closer. It didn't work.
“Oh, is that what you're into? It's cool with me, let’s do this.” Rorke started to approach me again as I failed to connect with a series of leg kicks.
“No,” I hurriedly tried to reach him, “for real. I'm your new stepsister. My mom? Carol? Lives in that house with your Dad?” When I pointed to his father's mansion, it suddenly appeared as though I had finally made sense to him. He deflated slightly on the bed, the joy left his face only for a quick moment.
Wrong: A Spoiled Stepbrother Romance Page 3