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Brawl Page 2

by Kylie Hillman


  “For God’s sake, you still owe me two hundred for last week’s food and I paid the power bill so you owe me five hundred for that.” I snap through gritted teeth. This is typical of the selfish cow. “You need to give me money for Cooper’s cricket—that’s due this week as well. What do you do with the fucking money Dad sends you...and your pension?”

  Mom’s lucky that just before Dad walked out, she was granted compensation from an ex-client for a serious back injury that she sustained while working for them. In her previous life, before she became an alcoholic, gambling mess, my mother was a successful interior decorator. She made a killing because of her excellent eye for detail. Part of me is thankful that Dad used her compensation to pay off the house and arranged a very generous pension to be paid to her weekly for the rest of her life. Of course, this was before he ran away with my mother’s best friend; so another, much larger part, is furious at him for leaving me with the mess.

  “Here,” she yells hoarsely, slapping a few fifty dollar notes on the coffee table, “Have this, you ungrateful little bitch. I put a roof over your head, feed you, and put you through school, and you repay me by covering yourself in those ugly tattoos and applying for art school so you can use being creative as an excuse for being a rampant slut. You’d think that the least you could do after turning into such an embarrassing disappointment is pay a few lousy bills for me so I can afford to enjoy my life.”

  She stalks off into her bedroom and slams the door behind her.

  “Fuck you,” I throw one of her discarded high-heels at her door. It makes a hollow thud when it connects, before falling to the floor. “If I’m a slut, at least we don’t have to look far to find where I got it from. DNA’s a bitch.”

  “I hate you, Gabriella Mitchell. I wish I never had you. It’s your fault my life is ruined.” She screams from her bedroom. A moment later, I hear the springs of her bed squeaking—she must have thrown herself on it, like a petulant fucking child. Rolling my eyes at her melodrama and ignoring her nasty words, I wander over to the coffee table and count the notes she left behind. There’s one-hundred and fifty, which will pay for Cooper’s cricket, at least. I pocket the money and get on with packing the groceries away.

  Stretching my tight neck muscles, I force myself to ignore the headache that’s growing behind my eyes. Dealing with my crazy mother has this effect on me, which is why I try my bloody hardest to avoid her. The pounding pain refuses to budge, increasing when the realization that I need to seriously bump my hours up at the gym hits me. There’s no way I can afford to keep paying the bills and save enough in time to move closer to my art school in the city.

  I guess it could be said that I really have three vices—sex, fighting, and drawing. I’ve had an artistic streak for as long as I can remember, and I’ve always wanted to become a professional artist. It’s only recently that I decided that art school and then a tattooing apprenticeship was my life’s goal. The whole “starving artist” persona that appealed to me as a kid, has been replaced by the need to earn money from my art. Tattooing is the easiest way to do that, so that’s been my new plan.

  In between bouts of massaging my temples, I stash the food I bought into the pantry. Breathing deeply in an effort to calm the tension headache that’s now in full effect, I gaze down at the huge tattoo on my right thigh. It’s my own design, and a constant reminder to never trust anyone ever again. Not that I really need one.

  Inspiration struck late one night, and I sketched Lucifer sneaking up on three kneeling angels and planting a knife in each of their backs. The angels are bleeding from the knife wounds between their wings, and Lucifer’s smiling down at them evilly. He’s happy with his handy work, and off to the side is God drawn as a woman, sitting idly, watching her children being taken down by someone who used to be one of them.

  Zali hates it. She reckons it’s morbid and ugly, and that I should get over what Dad did to us when he up and left. I can’t be like her, though. Every time I listen to Cooper crying because Mom’s gone out and left him with us again, or I watch a little more of his childhood being stripped away from him when he wakes in the morning to another strange man in our home, the hatred I feel at our parent’s betrayal festers a little more, gaining intensity, and making the crater in my chest where my heart used to be grow bigger.

  One of my regular clients at the gym owns a tattoo parlor. Most of my tattoos are from my own hand—I find the allure of having my art permanently on my body and the peace I find as the needle drills into my skin addictive, so I’m covered in more ink than I ever expected to be. We have a deal where he sells my drawings to clients in exchange for free tattooing and his assistance with the spots I can’t reach myself.

  Running my finger over the face of Lucifer where he sits smirking like the devil he is, I push down the hurt, and concentrate on the anger and hatred. Slamming the pantry door shut, I grab my keys and decide it’s time to get the fuck out of here before I march into Mom’s room and tell her exactly what I think. I can’t spend another second in this hollow, memory-filled house that used to be our family home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gabbi

  “Let me do the talking at the start.” I tell Zali, as evenly as I can. If she thinks I’m bossing her around, she’s liable to get her back up and ruin this for both of us. “You’re not exactly what they’re looking for, but I think I can talk Steve around.”

  “I hope you can. I really want this job.” Zali gives me a weak smile, appearing to take my advice for once. I can tell she’s nervous, but so am I. I’m in two minds about bringing her ditzy self into my only sanctuary from the craziness of our family. Although, getting her employed and on the right path will make me feel better about leaving Cooper with her until I get my life sorted out.

  My plan is to get a job that pays well enough to support us all, and then make a deal with Mom where she can keep Cooper’s child support money but I have Cooper full-time. Maybe even Zali, if I can talk some sense into her and get her to leave her piece-of-shit boyfriend. I just have to get my boss on board with my plan.

  “Hey girl, I need to see Steve if he’s free?” I greet Amy, the gym’s night receptionist. The Fitness Hub is the only twenty-four-hour gym in our area, which is the only reason I’ve been able to make half-decent money and still get through school.

  “He’s in with the new night manager but I think they’re nearly finished.” Amy replies looking through Steve’s office window.

  “Cool, we’ll wait.” I grin at her, as Zali and I take a seat opposite Steve’s door. “So how did your hot date go last night?”

  Amy’s my closest friend and my partner-in-crime on the rare nights we get to go out together. We spend most nights together working at the gym, and have a blast doing it. She’s ten years older than me, but I feel closer to her than I do to anyone my own age. Probably because she’s alone with a kid and understands my life better than the morons I went to school with.

  “It was a freaking dud! I was home by eight thirty, sitting on the sofa watching the latest episode of The Walking Dead, and stuffing my face with ice cream. Unfortunately, the second I mentioned that I had a kid; he remembered that he had to get up early for work. It definitely wasn’t worth pulling a double shift today so I could have last night off.” Amy moans, a devilish grin breaking free a moment later. “Although, the new night manager’s gorgeous so I might take him for a spin—”

  Steve’s office door opens and he walks out chatting to a tall, dark haired man. I glance up at the new guy, knowing he must be pretty spectacular to catch Amy’s discerning eye. My heart skips a beat when he lifts his head and I am left staring into the gorgeous green eyes of the guy who ran me over in the supermarket.

  “Gabbi,” Steve smiles when he sees me, “I was just telling Nathan here all about you. You two will be working very closely together. I need you to show him the ropes.”

  “Nathan,” Steve says, gesturing towards me. “This is Gabbi.”

  “Call me N
ate. I’ve told you a million times.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Steve laughs when Nate corrects him. “You have mentioned it a time or two.”

  My heart’s beating a million miles an hour in my chest as I watch them together and it dawns exactly what the hell’s going on. My wild side is colliding with my normal life.

  Fuck. I keep my two lives extremely separate—excluding Amy because she has as much to lose as I do—so this goddamned meeting of chance is a screw up of epic proportions.

  “Gabbi’s your new second-in-charge,” Steve continues, oblivious to my emerging panic.

  “Nice to meet you again, Gabbi.” Nate smiles the same, sexy smile that he used on me in the supermarket and I feel my face heat. His eyes are dancing, and it’s clear he’s not going to make this easy for me. “I hope your ankle isn’t giving you too much trouble?”

  “No, it’s fine thanks,” I smile nervously at him before Steve’s words sink in. I look away from Nate, stand up and stare at Steve. “What do you mean second-in-charge?”

  “Oh, it’s just a little promotion that I cooked up for you to celebrate finishing high school.” He laughs, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. Steve has been really good to me since I started working here, and if I hadn’t made a gigantic fuck-up with Nate earlier today, I’d be over the moon with this news. Instead, my hands are clammy and I’m filled with worry. “I was going to tell you that you’d been promoted when I saw you tonight but here you are.”

  Watching Nate flinch at the mention of high school eases my fears a little. He must’ve thought I’m older than I am. Maybe now he knows, he’ll take mercy on me, and not mention in front of my ultra-conservative boss that I basically promised him a no-strings-attached fuck later tonight.

  My clit twitches unhappily, letting me know about her disappointment that fucking Nate is off the bloody cards now. My grandpa had a saying, “you don’t shit where you eat”, and since it makes infinite sense to me, I live by it. It’s just a pity that his own son couldn’t grasp the logic.

  As far as my colleagues are concerned, I’m the ice-queen. Apart from Steve and Amy, I make it my mission to keep my work relationships cordial and nothing more. If the other PT’s try it on, they get a curt refusal. If they try it again, I give them a tongue lashing. Word’s spread so I don’t get propositioned often. I hope Nate isn’t going to pursue our planned hook up now that he knows he’s my boss.

  “Well, I have a proposal for you so I thought I’d drop in.” I say, nodding towards Zali who’s still sitting down waiting for me to introduce her. Motioning her to stand up, I grab her hand and pull her next to me. “Steve, this is my little sister Zali. Zali, this is Steve. Zali’s looking for a traineeship and she’s pretty interested in personal training.

  I squeeze Zali’s hand when I see her mouth open to correct me. Lying is the only way I’m going to get her the job so she needs to keep her mouth shut. “She’s on the school’s cheer squad and she’s looking to try-out for the Castle Hill squad soon.”

  Chancing a look at my sister to gauge whether she’s going to follow through with my bullshit story, I catch a sidelong gaze between her and Nate. Anger tinged with annoyance creeps in, and I scowl at him when he directs his attention to me next. He winks, unapologetically, a satisfied grin crossing his lower face.

  Dumbass must think I’m annoyed because I’m jealous. That’s not the case at all. I’m used to male attention turning to my gorgeous little sister when they see us together. She’s classically beautiful. Taller than me by a good four inches, blonde, and with legs to die for, I’m sure she’s starred in more wet dreams than she’ll ever be able to comprehend. The only things we share are a decent sized set of tits and amber eyes—apart from that we’re like night and day, looks wise. I’m the alternative-looking, scary sister and she’s the shiny, bright jewel that everyone covets. No, I didn’t scowl at him because I’m jealous. It’s because she’s sixteen and ill-equipped at dealing with male attention.

  “Keep dreaming”, I mouth, and he coughs to cover up the burst of laughter that breaks free from him. Narrowing my eyes at him, I wait until he meets my gaze again before I let the full force of the rage that constantly simmers just below my surface show in my expression. He blanches as he takes it in, his laughter stopping as suddenly as it started.

  “Is everything okay here?” Steve asks, looking between the pair of us.

  “I’m good,” I reply. Closing the distance between Steve and I, and deliberately angling my back so that I cut Nate out of the conversation, I hit him with as close to a pleading gaze as anyone will ever elicit from me. “So, what do you think? She’ll be perfect for you.”

  Steve smiles and asks, “How old are you, Zali?”

  He’s obviously noted Zali’s school uniform.

  “I’m sixteen,” Zali replies.

  Steve’s smile drops and he looks at me, confusion in his eyes. “You know I’m looking for someone to work full time, Gabbi.”

  “I know that, but Zali can work full time hours and still complete school. She can do at least two hours before school and more hours after school. They’re your peak times anyway. And if you sign her to a school based traineeship in Sports Science, she can receive credits towards her studies. And since the traineeship is a formal part of her education, she can spend at least two study sessions a day at the gym.”

  I’m talking fast so I can pre-empt all of Steve’s issues with hiring Zali.

  This has to happen. I need this to happen.

  “I think it is a good idea, Steve,” Nate interrupts. He moves past me, coming to a stop too close to me. Our arms brush, and the smirk he directs my way before he speaks again, lets me know that it’s deliberate. “It’d be better to have someone in Zali’s situation working for you rather than have someone doing a traineeship during nine to five. You can structure her hours around busy times and avoid paying overtime. I completed a school based apprenticeship at my uncle’s gym, so I’d love to give someone else the leg up I got.”

  Steve’s starting to look convinced so I throw in my final incentive. “You’ll also receive a payment from the government for taking on a school based trainee...”

  Steve laughs at me. It’s unusual for me to show this type of enthusiasm for anything. “Well, if my manager and his second think it’s a good idea, who am I to argue? What do you say, you wanna join this team?”

  “Definitely.” Zali squeals, with her typical cheerleader perkiness. I watch both of the men melt as they take her in. “I can start today if you want.”

  “I like your style.” Steve chuckles. “But Monday will be soon enough. Come into my office and we’ll work out the details.”

  Zali follows Steve into his office and I almost burst with satisfaction. We’re one step closer to independence.

  “Thanks for backing me.” I tell Nate, taking a deliberate step away from him. Looking him straight in the eye, I continue, “We’re not going to have any issues, are we? It’s not like we actually fucked.”

  Straightforward is my middle name so I hit him with my question without preamble. He mustn’t have been expecting it because his eyes widen with surprise and he stutters his answer. “F-fucked?”

  “Yeah, you know? Meeting at Nitro’s tonight? Fucking afterward?”

  Biting down on my bottom lip so I don’t crack a smile while I watch him work hard to regain his cockiness from earlier today, I can’t help the small giggle that escapes when he leans against the top of the receptionist counter and winks at me. Amy shoots me a shocked look when the sounds escapes. I’m not a giggler, but seeing Nate thrown off his game is fucking hilarious.

  “I don’t see how working together impacts fucking tonight?”

  And he’s back.

  My slight giggle turns into a full blown attack. Amy finally figures out what we’re alluding to and she bursts into laughter as well. Her gorgeous oval eyes, courtesy of her Asian heritage, crinkle with mirth as we both laugh at him.

  “What’s so
fucking funny?” he asks. Irritation covers his attractive features and he straightens to stand with his hands on both his hips.

  “She doesn’t shit where she eats,” Amy answers him, between bouts of laughter.

  Confusion mingles with his irritation and he narrows his eyes at me. “Huh?”

  “In other words, I don’t fraternize with my colleagues.”

  Understanding dawns, and he puts his game face back on. “We’ll see. I’m pretty bloody irresistible.”

  Amy can’t contain herself anymore. She flops back in her chair and howls great big wails of snorting glee. “This. Is. Going. To. Be...fucking fun,” she pauses after each word in an attempt to drag in enough oxygen to say the next as she continues laughing. “I’m. Gonna. Start. A. Betting pool.”

  Rolling my eyes at her, I ignore Nate as he waits for an answer to his self-assured declaration. Rounding her desk, I grab both of her hands and haul her to her feet.

  “When’s your break, Ames? I think Zali’ll be with Steve for at least half an hour.”

  “Right now, chicky.” Amy’s panting in an effort to catch her breath. Curiosity is as clear as day in her expression when she looks between me and Nate. She wants to know the full story about my ankle and where we’ve met before.

  Phoning one of the other staff to cover for her, she locks her computer screen, and grabs her handbag. I watch Nate take her in with eyes that grow wide when she glides from behind her desk and he gets an eyeful of her short denim skirt, tight white T-shirt with the gym’s logo on it, and massive wedges. She’s the perfect mix of Asian and Caucasian; she could be a supermodel and the bitch knows it. Shaking my head when his mouth drops open, I dismiss his earlier declaration about seeing if I can resist him. He’s found someone much yummier to take his mind off me.

  Poor guy doesn’t need to know just yet that she’s even harder to crack than I am.

  Smile firmly on my face, I watch Amy toss her long, black hair over her shoulder and fix her big brown eyes on Nate. “If Steve comes out of his office before I get back, can you let him know that I’m having my lunch break. I’ll be back in forty-five.”

 

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