The PRETTY (EROM Curvy Romance #1) (6 page)

R
oman tosses
his duffel bag to one of the kids at the Boys and Girls Club as another child shoves his way to the front of the group. Usually, this kind of kid would be reprimanded by an instructor for not waiting his turn. However, Roman sees the anger in this kids eyes and the burn inside his belly.

T
his may be
his only opportunity to get validation of his worth.

A
nd Roman will give
it to him.

S
ome parents don’t want
their kids to learn Mixed Martial Arts as they feel it teaches violence at a young age. That may be true, but it’s a violent world, and Roman wants these kids to be prepared. Roman stresses to their parents that Mixed Martial Arts also teach discipline and values.

R
oman doesn’t shy away
from any element of his sport. He picks up the kid who shoved his way to the front and carries him to the mat where he puts him down. Roman orders him to lead the group in calisthenics.

R
oman stands
next to the boy, “Jumping Jacks,” he shouts.

T
he boy echoes
his orders to the kids, “Jumping Jacks, One Hundred.”

O
nce the group
completes the jumping jacks, “Drop Squat Lung,” Roman demands.

T
he boy again echoes
, “Drop Squat Lunges, fifty.”

T
he kids comply
, although not all can make it to fifty. In fact, most can’t even make it past thirty, but they keep trying.

R
oman lords
it over the group as he gives further demands for additional exercises.

O
nce this part
of the routine is complete, Roman breaks them up into smaller groups where they work on additional skills.

A
nine-year
-old lifts her elevated leg and pounds away at a kicking pad with such force, the boy holding it in place loses his footing and falls backward on his butt. He quickly gets back up and holds the bag even tighter as he prepares for the next onslaught of kicks.

R
oman pushes
the kids past their normal limits, and he has seen drastic results in the three years he has volunteered here.

H
is final lesson
today involves Muay Thai, where the kids are taught to strike with their feet, shins, fists, knees and elbows.

T
oday is
a good day as no one gets hurt. But these types of days are few and far between.

R
oman wraps
up today by handing out protein shakes to the kids.

A
s the kids
grab their gear and exit to be picked up by a parent, Roman hangs back to see if Sam’s father will arrive on time.

S
am
, a blond kid with a buzz-cut and a crooked front tooth, is the introvert of the class. However, he’s the first to pick up new techniques with his own style and finesse.

R
oman strolls
outside and sits next to Sam as they wait for his ride.

“
Y
ou did damn good today
, little man,” Roman says to distract Sam.

“
Y
ou think so
? I thought I screwed up,” Sam comments.

“
O
h
, you did fuck up today, Sam, with your kicks. You have to learn to keep them low and pivot from the hips,” Roman says, "but other than that, you were golden.”

S
am gives
Roman a half-smile as he knows that this is about as good a compliment as he’s going to get out of Roman.

R
oman glances at his watch
, “What time is your dad supposed to pick you up?”

“
W
henever he gets here
,” Sam informs. “He’s a busy man. People depend on him.”

R
oman is not
much for consoling kids as he doesn’t know how; so he wings it. Inside these doors, things click and he’s in teacher-mode. But once the session is over, and the lights go out; he has nothing left to say to these kids.

“
I
’ll tell you what
. I’ll wait with you here until your dad comes.”

S
am’s
embarrassed and doesn’t want to accept the offer, “No thanks. He’ll be here soon. I don’t want you here when he comes.”

T
here are fewer
things more difficult than arguing with a kid and trying to change their mind.

R
oman picks
up his duffel bag and walks to his car. He climbs in and sits. But he’s not going anywhere until Sam is picked up.

A
n hour later
, Sam’s father arrives. He’s a white-collar man with his ear permanently attached to his cell phone. He honks for Sam to climb into the car so they can get going.

S
am looks
at his dad and runs away in the opposite direction. Sam just takes off after seeing his dad on the phone again. Sam’s dad climbs out of his car and calls out to Sam in-between a phone conversation.

R
oman gets
out of his car and jogs towards the father, “Are you going after him?” Roman asks.

“
H
e’ll be back
,” the father says as he shouts into his cell phone about an unbalanced budget.

“
I
t’s late
. You should go after him,” Roman reprimands.

T
he father covers
his cell phone receiver with his hand, ‘Who the hell do you think you are? He’s my son. Mind your own goddamn business, or I’ll call the cops.”

R
oman could so quickly snap
this thin man in half without any effort whatsoever, but he is more concerned about Sam.

R
oman takes
off running after Sam while Sam’s dad leans back against his car and continues his phone conversation.

“
S
am
, Sam,” Roman calls out as he runs down the road. It’s a two lane street with very little traffic. Farmland is to the right and tract houses to the left.

R
oman’s eyes
dart side to side for any hint as to which direction Sam went. He jogs another quarter mile before he spots recently flattened grass that leads to a foreclosed home. The property is overgrown and boarded up.

S
am has climbed
a tree near the front porch of the property. Roman approaches him without saying a word.

N
either speak
.

A
fter ten minutes
, Sam says, ‘Well, aren’t you going to say something? Aren’t you going to tell me I'm a dumb kid and to get out of this tree?”

R
oman doesn’t know
what to say to Sam, so he remains silent.

S
am speaks more
up in that tree than the entire time since Roman has known him. “I like it up here. I can live up here, and there is nobody who can tell me otherwise.”

R
oman again says nothing
, just leans up against the tree. He doesn’t even look up at Sam.

“
I
hate my dad
. I hate my life,” Sam spills.

N
ow Roman has
something to work with, “Are you shitting me, Sam? You hate your life because you have a prick instead of a dad? You’ve got it damn good.”

R
oman continues
, “Has anyone ever molested you?”

S
am is shocked
by the question, “Molested? As in some perv touching me? No.”

“
W
hen is
the last time you ate?” Roman asks.

“
B
efore practice
,” Sam announces.

“
W
hen is
the last time you went to bed in a closet, cold, without a blanket?”

S
am instinctually understands
that this is not a question Roman expects an answer to, that he is making a point.

S
am climbs
down from the tree, “I wish I were like you. I wish you were my dad.”

R
oman grabs
Sam by the upper arms and shakes him, “Don’t you EVER say that again,” before he releases him.

S
hocked
, Sam backs away from Roman.

“
N
ow run
your ass back to your father’s car,” Roman orders.

A
nd Sam does just that
.

R
oman finishes
his five-hour workout today and has successfully managed to avoid Tuesday. It wasn’t hard as she works to avoid him as well.

T
uesday draws
the blinds in her office, and Roman has completed his circuits without any distractions.

A
l approaches
Roman and swings a towel around The Pretty’s neck to sop up the sweat.

“
W
e have a match up
,” Al announces.



R
oman and Al
waltz into Allistor’s office. The leather seats are tufted and plush and the desk mahogany. Big Game animal heads span two walls.

R
oman is
by no means a tree-hugger or insane animal lover. But the sight of majestic animals on the walls of a pompous egomaniac’s office, sickens him. Only men with large egos and small dicks partake in such sport; that is if you can call it a sport.

“
H
ow do
you like my latest conquest?” Allistor says as he gestures at the head of a Giselle. “Tracking this lady was hell. She put up a valiant fight.”

R
oman doesn’t hold
his tongue, “Tracking? Fight? Are you shitting me? You call it a fight? What type of weapon did the Giselle have? You and your type disgust me. You’re a small pathetic man who gets his rocks off by killing powerless animals, strictly for pleasure.”

A
llistor’s
smile evaporates from his face as he puts out a cigar. “Isn’t that exactly what you are, The Pretty? I suppose if the rules of the game were changed, that you would walk into a cage, slap a man on the back and be on your way? No, I don’t believe so. You belong in that cage, like an animal. You train for the precious few moments you get to step into that coop and bash the head in of another man. And you call me pathetic?”

R
oman places
his knuckles on Allistor’s desk and leans in, “At least it’s a well-matched fight; an even playing field.”

“
A
nd that is
why I’ve asked you here. Have a seat,’ Allistor requests as he gestures to which seat he wants Roman to sit in. Roman opts for another one.

A
llistor chuckles to himself
, ‘You alpha males are so predictable.”

A
llistor takes
a seat behind his desk, “I’ve spoken with the commission, and we’ve come up with your opponent for the championship bout. Would you like to know who it is?”

A
l pipes up
, “Who is it? The Dragon? Bones?”

T
here is
a knock at the door.

“
C
ome in
,” Allistor says as Lucky Lewis enters the room.

“
T
he Pretty
,” Lucky utters as he does a reverse nod in Roman’s direction.

R
oman stands and approaches Lucky
. “You’re not in fighting shape.”

“
S
ays who
? You?” Lucky shoots back.

“
D
o
you really want to do this, Lucky?” Roman asks.

“
R
oman
, I respect you. But I’m going to beat the shit out of you in the ring.”

R
oman lets
his emotions overtake him, “Your record is 8-6-1. You’re not ready. I don’t want to have to put you down, Lucky.”

L
ucky takes
a step closer to Roman. They are inches away from each other, as if in a standoff.

“
T
his is my shot
, and I’m taking it. I have a few tricks up my sleeves. You won’t be on top of the pedestal after I’m done,” Lucky threatens.

R
oman turns to Al
, “I won’t fight him.”

A
l gestures
for Roman to come closer. He whispers, “It’s your choice, Roman. But remember, it’s what you’ve been working your entire career for. Lucky wants it bad. If he gets knocked out on his ass, it has nothing to do with you. If not Lucky, even the next guy on the list isn’t worthy of you. He wouldn’t give you enough of a challenge either; the fight would be over in the first round. Lucky isn’t highly ranked; that’s true. Be he deserves a shot as much as anyone else. He’s prepared to get in shape. He’ll be at his best when you send him to hell.”

R
oman thinks
for a moment before he turns back to face Lucky.

“
A
re you being pressured
?” he asks Lucky.

L
ucky laughs
right in his face, “We’re evenly matched. The title will be mine; even if I have to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

R
oman turns to face Allistor
, “I want to see the contract.”

A
llistor pulls
out the contract and hands it to Lucky who doesn’t bother to read it. He just signs it as he stares down Roman.

R
oman takes
the contract and sits down. He’s going to take his time reading over all the clauses. Al sits next to him and points out several points of the contract.

R
oman crosses
out certain addendum’s and initials the changes. He also crosses out the amount he is to be paid for the fight and doubles it.

H
e slings
the contract back at Allistor, who puts on his glasses to read the changes. He comes to the dollar amount of the purse.

“
I
knew
you thought of yourself very highly, but this figure? Are your balls made of platinum?” Allistor says as he awaits a response.

“
I
’m
worth double that figure, and you know it. There is no room for negotiations. That’s my price,” Roman announces as he lays down the law.

A
llistor looks
over the rims of his glasses at Roman. He can see that the deal hinges on this; it’s all or nothing.

A
llistor signs the contract
, “It’s settled. We have a championship bout. I’ll announce it to the press.”

“
I
want
a copy of the contract sent over by tonight, Roman orders as he strides out the room. Al follows and shuts the door behind him.