Pierce Her Stepbrother

by Saffron Daughter

  “My father wanted me to work at the bakery.”

  “Grandpa? Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “See, so you still went off on your own! You chased your dream.”

  “It involved seven years of architecture school, sweetheart.”

  “And I’ll likely be apprenticing for years as well! Come on, don’t patronize me, Dad. You’re an artist, too. Don’t act like you don’t know that being a good tattoo artist requires years of training, too.”

  He lets out a deep, shuddering exhale, and I know he’s relenting.

  “I’m going to miss you,” he says.

  I won’t lie. It hits me right in the gut. It’s just been me and him for a few years now, and since he works so much, we’re like a team. He takes care of me in some ways, I take care of him in other ways.

  “Will you be okay alone?”

  He laughs. “Come on, Penelope. Of course I will. I’m only a fifty-two year old man.”

  “Really? Because I’ve seen the way you eat when I don’t prepare dinner. It’s unhealthy.”

  He clears his throat. “How long are you planning on staying there for?”

  “Oh, jeez, Dad, it’s not like I’m leaving forever. I’ll be back! I think my visa only gives me one year, anyway, with the option for a second.”

  “And it’ll be legal for you to work there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’ll make you happy?”

  “Yes!”

  He puts the spoon down, and it clinks against his bowl. “Fine. But I expect you to email me every three days. And call me once a week. A proper telephone call, not just the hi-dad-bye-dad bullshit that kids do these days. I want it over Skype as well. I want to be able to see your face. Anyway, I need to put the new laptop I got myself to good use.”

  I grin. “I will.”

  “And I want the telephone number of Rose and her mother or father or guardian. I’ll want to have a talk with both of them first.”

  “No problem.”

  “And I want you to write me out a plan. On this plan, I want you to list out exactly what you’re going to be doing, how you’re going to do it, and anything else that entails. I want to know how you’ll get a license to tattoo, I want to know who you’ll apprentice under, I want to know how you’ll sort out your taxes, driving license, everything. I want you to be on top of everything, and I expect it by tonight when I get home from work.”

  I nod rapidly. “I can do that.” I’ve got this broad smile on my face, and I reach across the table and take his hand. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You know,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze. “I never thought my beautiful baby girl would graduate high school, leave the country, and start putting ink beneath people’s skin.”

  “You should think of me as an aspiring artist, Dad. Try and be a little more progressive.”

  “Wait until you get to be my age with children of your own, and let’s see how progressive you’ll be then when they ask you if they can do insane things.”

  “I’ll never become close-minded, Dad.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

  We sit in silence for a moment, and I guess I’m thinking the same thing he is, but from a different perspective.

  I’m thinking that I’m about to go off and chase my dream, and, trite as it sounds, take the bull by the horns.

  Dad’s probably thinking that I’m going off naively to chase my dreams, and that he’s going to be left in an empty house with nobody to eat supper with while I’m half-way across the world where he won’t be able to protect me.

  Well, he won’t be completely alone. He’s got that new woman he’s been dating.

  “Hey!” I say. “You can use this as an opportunity to see… what’s her name more?”

  “Her name is Isabelle,” he says sternly. “Isabelle Fletcher.” Then his face lights up. “Hang on a minute.” He pulls out his phone, and starts going through his messages.

  “What is it?”

  “Melbourne, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Isabelle has a son, and he spent his teenage years in a boarding school in Melbourne. I think he’s still there.”

  “Really?” I ask. “That’s a coincidence.”

  “Indeed. His name is Pierce.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve got a photo of him somewhere.”

  I watch as he manhandles his phone, punching the on-screen buttons the way he types at his keyboard. He’s going to break his phone if he’s that rough with it.

  “Ah, here we go,” he says.

  He turns the phone around and shows it to me.

  There’s a photograph of Isabelle. She’s looking uptight and well-dressed as usual.

  And standing next to her is…

  “That’s him?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  I say nothing, just shake my head.

  The guy is fucking gorgeous.

  *

  chapter two

  “Hey, we’re going out tonight.”

  I look up from my computer at Rose. I’m halfway through an email to Dad.

  “It’s Tuesday,” I say, and I frown.

  “Australia, mate,” she jokes. “Pierce will be fighting tonight. We’re going to cheer him.”

  “Pierce?” I ask. “Pierce Fletcher?”

  “Yeah. I’m only asking because you told me your dad is dating his mom.”

  “What kind of fight is it?”

  “Cage match.”

  “Is it legal?”

  Rose snorts. “No.”

  “So why are we going?”

  “Jason is friends with Pierce. He’s going to support him, so I’m going, and so I thought you might want to go.” She shrugs. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to go.”

  “Will we get caught?”

  “If the police raid the place they’ll just send us away.”

  “You sure?”

  “They’re not going to arrest five hundred people, babe.”

  “Five hundred?” I balk. “That many people will be there?”

  “It’s pretty popular, yeah.”

  I think about it. Do I really want to pay to see guys beat the shit out of each other? Not really…

  “We get in free through Pierce.”

  I laugh. “Okay. Why not?”

  “We’ll probably leave here at six, so, uh, I guess be ready by then.”

  “Do you enjoy it?” I ask.

  Rose hums for a moment. “Sort of.” She shrugs, and leaves my room. I hear her say as she leaves, “Nothing good on TV tonight, anyway.”

  I finish typing out my email to Dad:

  Hey Dad,

  I’m settled here. The plane ride was hell, though. Someone spent the whole trip puking just two rows in front of me.

  Tomorrow I’ll go and get my license so I can start apprenticing, and I’ll also be getting an RSA, which is this certificate you have to have in order to be able to serve alcohol. I thought it would be a good idea in case I need to find a job quickly, it means I can always waitress in a pinch. You know, it’s a fall back.

  Rose has been really welcoming, and I can’t believe it’s winter here but summer over there! I totally didn’t think about that, and so had to dig out a sweater from my suitcase while still at the airport. It’s not too cold, but it’s been raining a lot.

  I’ve got my portfolio all set up and ready to go, and will be seeing Tina Azume tomorrow.

  I guess you could say I’m settled in. I’ve attached a file with all of the details (address, phone numbers of friends, etc.) for you.

  Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. We’re living in a suburb called St. Kilda which is right by the beach. It’s a pretty buzzing area, loads of young people around, and it’s pretty convenient. Gotta say, at the price I’m renting the room for from Rose, I think I definitely lucked out.

  I’ll write you again tomorrow to let you know how everything is progressing.


  Talk soon,

  Love Penny

  *

  chapter three

  I don’t just hear the crowd, I feel them. Their collective voices, the screeching and cheering, and all their clapping, it shakes the air. I feel it on the beads of sweat that sit on my skin, this buzz, this vibration. I’ve just been warming up in the back on the bike, but now, beneath the bright lights, with the audience chanting my name, I’m heating up.

  I throw off my robe. I don’t do any bullshit showy poses. I don’t flex my biceps or my lats. I don’t howl or growl or woof or bark I just walk around the cage. It’s sitting in the middle of this soundproofed warehouse. There are several locations like this all around the state of Victoria.

  These places are for fight nights.

  Illegal, underground, unlicensed, whatever you want to call it. You walk in, and you don’t win anything unless you’re the one walking out.

  When you’re outside, you’d never hear it, you’d never guess it, never know it. No parking, no cars allowed on premises. Park it elsewhere, and the cops will never know.

  People in the front rows have their hands out. They want to touch me. They want to feel the slick sweat on my skin, the heat in my flesh, the hard muscle packed tight on my body.

  Who the fuck am I?

  I’m Pierce Fletcher, and I’m the best underground fighter in Australia.

  “Pierce! Pierce!”

  The women are screaming my name. They’re everywhere, bikini tops and tube tops, micro-shorts and cut-off spaghettis. They’ve got their arms up, they’re dancing, sweating, oozing sex, with full lips or fake lips, and full tits or fake tits. They’re writhing and wriggling, shaking their hips, giving me the look.

  Everything’s game. A woman is a woman, and I’m the man they want.

  “I love you, Pierce!” someone shouts, and I turn to her and wink at her. Her knees hit each other, and she drops into her seat.

  She might as well have had an orgasm.

  There are six stands of people, arranged in a hexagon around each face of the six-sided, steel-wire cage. The wire is sharp; get thrown into it hard enough, and it’ll slice into your flesh.

  I’ve got a ritual. Fighters have rituals. People like to say we’re superstitious, that athletes are superstitious, but it’s not some bullshit belief in the uncontrollable or unpredictable or unknowable.

  Ritual is rhythm. Rhythm is consistency.

  Consistency is king.

  You dance in the cage consistently. You have to pick up and put down your feet each time the same way. You can’t be slower one time, and you can’t be too fast the next. You have to know your body, know it’s timing. Try to go too fast you’ll miss or fall over; be sluggish and slow, and, hey, it was never your night to begin with, so you may as well check-out early.

  I stare up into the stands. There’s this sea of faces, half guys and half girls. They are excited, anticipating twenty-five fights tonight, last man standing takes the pot.

  Of course, that will be me. It’s always me. I never lose.

  I walk to the next stand, and there I see a pretty blonde. I give her a wave, and she screeches and covers her mouth, before waving back frantically at me. She lifts up her top, flashes me her tits. She’s got pale nipples. She’s also got implants.

  Whatever.

  I move on to the next stand. Ah, there they are. I wave at my friends, and every eye in the room turns to them. I’ve just transformed them into fucking superstars.

  I’m about to go to the door to the cage, I’m about to turn around, when I see this face. The noise is silenced. I hear the ding of a bell, and know I need to get into the cage, but I just can’t stop looking at her.

  This girl is the most beautiful girl in the room, and she doesn’t even know it. It’s a thump in my chest, a pang in my gut, an energy racing into my groin.

  Oh, I want her.

  And I’m fucking Pierce Fletcher.

  I’ll have her.

  That’s when I realize she looks… bored. I lock my eyes on hers; they are a dark brown like dark chocolate, but she’s not looking at me. She’s not watching me. She’s… pecking at her phone.

  The crowd grows a little quieter as I peer at her.

  She’s got bushy eyebrows, and her hair looks carelessly tied back. Its shoulder-length, a little wavy, shines in the light. Her button-nose is upturned, piggish at the wrong angle, and her mouth is too big for her jaw, and her teeth too big for her mouth.

  But together… put all of it together, and it’s striking.

  She finally looks up, and she meets my eyes. I know what’s coming now. At first, she’s going to break eye-contact because she’s nervous, because she’s looking at me. Motherfucking Pierce Fletcher.

  But then she’s going to realize that I’m looking back at her, and she’s going to realize she has my attention. Ergo, she has an opportunity.

  She’s going to look back up at my eyes, and she’s going to smile, do something cute with her hair, shoot me the look, and then I’m going to take her home with me tonight, and I’m going to screw her fucking brains out.

  How do I know this? It’s happened a million times before. I’ve left a million girls dazed and more satisfied than they’ll ever be in their entire lives.

  So I wait. The fight will wait for me.

  She looks up.

  She looks into my eyes.

  She stares blankly.

  I keep looking at her, and she starts to get visibly irritated.

  “What?” she says, shaking her head, annoyed. Her voice is lost in the rising murmuring.

  I smirk.

  Now, this girl is interesting.

  I point at her. The crowd erupts into ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’.

  I turn around, and I walk into the cage.

  *

  I blink a few times. “What the hell was that about?”

  Rose and her boyfriend look at me, grinning. “He’s claimed you.”

  I shake my head. “Claimed me?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, biting her lip. “He’s never done that before. He’s definitely interested in you.”

  I laugh. “Don’t I get a say in any of this?”

  “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t think he’s hot stuff.”

  “Hey,” her boyfriend says, but Rose ignores him.

  “He’s alright,” I lie.

  “You’re lying,” Rose says. “I always know when people are lying.”

  “That’s one of those things people say,” I tell her, “that’s not true and really annoying.”

  “Fine, I know when you’re lying. Besides, you’re blushing.”

  “I am not!” I say, and I touch my cheeks with the backs of my hands. They are on fire! I realize then that my ears are burning too. I look around at all the people who came to watch fight night, and their eyes are all on me.

  Some girl is shooting me a death stare. Another winks at me, and blows a kiss.

  What the hell is this?

  “Babe, if Pierce wants you, he’s gonna—”

  “Going to what?” I say, cutting her off. “Going to ask me out on a date?”

  She snorts. “Please.”

  “It’s not like anything can happen, anyway.”

  “Why? You on your period?”

  I glare at her. “That’s kind of a personal question to ask me in such a public place.”

  “Oh relax,” she says, slapping my knee. “Nobody can hear us.”

  “No. His mother is dating my father.”

  The small group of people around us all fall silent, and Rose bursts out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You think that’s going to stop him?”

  I bunch my brows. “It’s going to stop me. And,” I say, realizing that I need to recover. “It’s not like I’m interested, anyway.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “Just shut up,” I say.

  “Does he know? About his mother and your father?”

 
; “I don’t know.”

  “This is going to be interesting,” Rose says. “Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”

  We sit in silence for a while, and then I see a young couple walking up the steps in the stand. They enter our row, and Rose gets up and hugs them.

  “Hey Cassie, hey Chance!”

  I realize the two empty seats beside me are for them. I’m unhappy. Rose didn’t tell me she was bringing friends. It’s not like I came out prepared to really socialize with anyone else but her and her boyfriend.

  I smile and introduce myself.

  “How do you guys know Rose?” I ask.

  The guy, Chance, speaks. “I’m friends with her boyfriend. That’s how, uh, Cassie and I met Rose.”

  “Oh? How do you know Jason?”

  “Eh, I met him in London. We worked together for a little while. He told me he was leaving to go back to Australia.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” I lean forward and meet Cassie’s eyes. “You like fights?”

  She shakes her head. “No. He dragged me here.”

  “Hey, Jason says this guy, Fletcher, he’s the best fighter in Australia.”

  “Oh yeah?” Cassie says. “So why is he underground and not pro?”

  Chance shrugs, pulls out his zippo and clinks it open.

  “I, uh, don’t think you should smoke with so many people around,” I say.

  “Relax,” he tells me. “I don’t smoke. Just an old habit.”

  The bell dings again, and a second fighter steps into the cage with Pierce. The crowd goes silent, but the air is charged.

  The man is smaller than Pierce, shorter and less muscular.

  I groan to myself. This probably isn’t going to be very fun to watch.

  *

  chapter four

  “Did you see how fast he was?” Rose asks. “God, he’s good.”

  “Isn’t it unfair if he’s stronger and faster than everyone else he fights?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t think he gets to choose his opponents. It’s all randomized. That’s what that big bucket was for. That’s where they pulled out the names.”