Discoveries of a Young Man Pt. 09

*

Mel, Hope, Maia, and I had all agreed that we needed a new home. We had two alright incomes, and the small business me and Hope had started; Hope's Branded Cars. While it made a comfortable enough living where we didn't have any immediate worries, it still wasn't really enough for something new. Our lifestyle wasn't glamorous and none of it had to be, and wherever our new home would end up being didn't need it either. We had a decent income, but we didn't have any immediate cash, which meant that our loan would be humongous or not approved.

Also, we kind of wanted to not settle for scraps, not to have something temporary. We wanted something new and in a better neighborhood. If we were moving, we wanted a good-to-decent upgrade. Maybe even build something. We had first joked about the idea, but as time progressed the idea took root. Maybe something up in the foothills south of Courtington, there were a lot of lots out there. The problem was, again, that required money.

So this is where one might think I could go professional as a boxer. I had proposed the idea even. There were two issues. Mel didn't like the thought of our financial dependency being tied with me being punched in the head and likely injured. On the other; my hand got fucked when I beat up David. It would take some months before I could even hit pads. While one was an issue for the short term, I wasn't sure how I'd convince Mel. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to put her in a position of having to accept something like that about someone who she cared about.

For Christmas and New Year's, I went back to my family, to my big sister Jenna's place in Seattle. I got the obligatory interrogation from both my sisters and some from my dad. I hadn't talked too much with them over the phone so far, as my new family took a lot of my time, especially with the things that had happened. I loved and adored being with Mel, Hope, and Maia. I missed them dearly when going to Seattle for the Holidays. But Mel was determined I should spend time with my 'real' family. Maybe I one day should make Mel my 'real' family too.

New Year's came and went. Time went and we saved what and where we could. While David was in jail with a ridiculously high bail awaiting trial where he'd no doubt get time, we still saw shadows in our small home. None of us had even used the bathroom downstairs ever since, and Mel told me she kept seeing David beaten up on the carpet. Not the most pleasant memories to have in a home you don't even want to live in anymore.

*

Of course, even as we couldn't afford to get anything, we did the mandatory property hunting. It was like a way of seeing what our dreams could be. See where our family could settle and live. We looked at some houses in other neighborhoods. The more we saw the more we wanted to move and it became a need. We saw all the variations of homes we could envision ourselves living in. Maybe this, in addition to the trauma of our old home, made the yearning to move even stronger. Not to say, we saw some real shitholes too.

We even started looking at lots. With every home we found that was appealing, we also saw how we could've done it differently, thus leading us down the road of developing our own home. Make it how we wanted it. The idea had settled for real, and if we by some miracle could afford it, we definitely wanted to build our new home.

"It'll be quite expensive though," Trent said. His dad was a contractor so we occasionally had Trent and his dad Daryl with us looking at properties. Daryl was much like Trent, just burlier and with a thick beard. Apparently, our neighbor Pete worked for him as well.

"Everything is," Mel chuckled resigned.

"Sure is," Daryl chuckled back.

We stood at a bigger property, around thirty acres or so located in the foothills in the southern part of Courtington. It was a bit outside the town itself up on a small plateau. There were a few houses here, but it was still a developing neighborhood. The closest neighbor was a giant mansion though, with a big gate, tennis court, and pool, so who knew. Not that we needed such luxuries. We wanted it to be nice, but we also wanted it to suit our little modest life.

"Though, it would be cool to be in such a neighborhood. And maybe we could get an outdoor hot tub? Or a whole pool? The guys up the street have one," Mel suggested, as we walked around the property. She wore thick wool, but that didn't stop me from checking her out. And it was slippery here and there, so Mel hooked her arm into mine as we had left Trent and his dad as they walked where the house would be, doing their measurements or whatever carpenters do.

"Maybe we don't need a mansion, but up here we should have a pool at least. Maybe a sauna! We could drink vodka, bathe in the snow, and warm in the sauna, just like the Finns," Mel dreamed, laughing a bit as she joked around. I looked at her like I always did. Trying to imagine her magnificent teardrop breasts shining with either sweat from the sauna or water from a hot tub.

"I knew you'd like that," Mel said, looking over at me staring at her with no doubt a very dreamy look on my face.

"There's a pond down there," I said, pointing down the small slope towards a natural pond, with some small rivers running down to the nearby creek. "Looks like it is on the property too!"

"That means it may be really expensive," Mel chuckled, slightly defeated.

"It's not expensive to dream," I retorted. Mel gave me a loving smile at that.

*

"One-two," I groaned, as I felt Hope's punches even through the pads. My hand was almost healed up, but still, it ached when I inevitably overdid it.

"You okay?" she asked. I winced. My hand was still a bitch sometimes.

"Yeah, it's just that overwhelming power," I teased, shaking the aching away. Hope smirked.

"You don't mind my overwhelming power when I squeeze your head with my thighs," Hope shot back.

"Heh heh," I slowly laughed, thinking how Hope had developed a nice little habit of sitting on my face. And she had also developed her thighs pretty significantly with the hours she spent with me in the gym. She still wasn't the ferocious cougar Mel was, but she still liked us playing around, and that included letting me feel her ever stronger thighs wrapped around my head as I soaked everything she had.

One week into getting back to the gym, I was cracking pads with Hope. She had real athletic ability, picking these things up easily. Even easier than me, I would say. Given time I wouldn't bet against her having a bigger talent than me even! Not that I was a world champ or anything, but Hope just cracked the pads with such viscousness, feet moving perfectly with her motions. I had felt her punches before, and her grappling, so I knew first-hand. And I kinda liked it, not gonna lie.

I wasn't getting ready for fights yet, this was just the fitness I liked. I would wait out my degree, go full-time accountant, and take it from there, which meant less time for fighting, even in the amateurs. Boxing had given me so much, I was not about to get bored with it, so it was sad to leave it behind as a fighter. Life is life, it is what it is sometimes. I had to come to grips with the possibility. I had a decent record, so I was satisfied with retiring.

That was when a certain visitor came walking into our gym. We were, as said, hitting pads when Freya approached us.

"Bran, there is someone here for you. Hope, gimme three times three on the heavy. In my office. Frank, come on," Freya said. There was a hint of warning in her voice, I guess.

Freya seemed a bit annoyed, or anxious. It was hard to tell. Like she was in full protective mode as she led me and Frank to her office.

Sitting there in the chair with two suited men behind him was none other than Carlos Fernando.

We had had a war a few months ago in the amateurs, and since he had gone pro and was a prospect for some international titles in the light heavyweight division, probably world titles too. I hadn't seen many of his fights, but being in a martial arts gym we got the news.

"Long time no see," I said, shaking his hand.

I wasn't sure where this was going or what he was here for. I had been on okay terms with him before, but only briefly talked to him really. Now he pulled me into a hug like a long-lost brother. I guess I was a bit flattered, being greeted in such a way in front of everyone by one of the nation's biggest up-and-coming boxing prospects. He could easily come up here all bigshot-like.

"Bran! Good to see you! How are you? Your hand doing alright?" he asked. He seemed genuine enough, at least.

"Yeah?" I answered, looking at my hand and flexing it a bit. Stiff, but it was getting there, I guess. "Could be better. You should see the other guy."

"Heh, I bet. I heard all about it. Shit is crazy. Anyway, let me introduce you to some folks. This is James and this is Lewis. They are some kinda... I don't know what these fucks do, but they're like sports marketers from Colorado who're kinda helping me build my brand as I am building up to become a world champ," Carlos explained, making me immediately question where this was going.

"You flatter us, Carlos! Sit down, kid, I have a proposal for ya that I think you'll like," the graying gentleman called James cheerfully, pointing to the chair that was often designated to Freya.

I looked at her. She didn't object, but I could tell she was not happy about her place being occupied by her former newbie. I sat and looked at them quizzically. From Carlos Fernando to the guys behind him, to Frank, to Freya(who was digging holes into the back of the older guy's head.)

"How would you like to earn one to two hundred thousand dollars in a matter of seven months?" he asked. He had almost a Brooklyn accent the way he talked, but a lot of New Yorkers were in the mix of boxing things.

"Hey now, don't put it like that," Carlos chuckled, turning to the older man as if it was a father figure.

"Okay, let me just give you the cliff notes. There's not nuttin' small in this, quite the contrary. Carlos Fernando is undefeated and on his way to big things, alright? But he has one fight that has some people - namely bookers and that ilk - has some people saying there are people out there who would beat him. And that is where you, boy, come in" James said, moving behind Carlos to clutch his shoulder fatherly. Carlos just sat nodding, probably not even paying attention.

"I know we're covering a lot of ground here, but basically, Carlos has only been dropped four times in his career. And all against you. So to get him over this little hurdle of people thinking he is beatable, we'd thought we have you boys fight. Here's the kicker though. I know for all parties involved that we shouldn't let an amateur fighter go against a high-profile pro in his debut. Carlos is set to be a world champ, for Christ's sake! We want it all credible-like!"

James moved to the only window in the room and leaned against a nearby filing cabinet shaking his head before continuing.

"No no. Quite the contrary. I think we can make a bigger deal of this potential fight. So we're giving you a few warm-ups, say four or five. Build your name up a bit. Get you used to ten ounces and doing more rounds. Four then six. Then with a decent record and experience, you fight Carlos here. And to sweeten the deal, we'll make your warm-ups lucrative with an increase in pay per fight, then you and Carlos make a couple hundred grand each in yousses fight. How that sound, eh? We'll take care of the booking and that, all you gotta do is train, beat some schmucks up, and then go all out in a war with Carlos. Maybe some promo here in Indiana, but I think what we have in mind lays natural for you, given the soup kitchen you volunteer at and whatnot. What you think? All of this will be in paper too, but let me know what you think!"

James stopped talking, but I remained silent. I had sort of come to grips with not fighting all that much anymore, so this proposition was not only a bit overwhelming, but it was also quite surprising. Mel wasn't too keen on me fighting in the pros so that kinda put a stop to it. But then again... it sounded like several hundred thousand were on the table. Could I even refuse? It was the perfect opportunity to give Mel and our family the home we wanted. And what if I won against Carlos? I didn't dare to think what where that road lead... that could lead to even bigger fights and more money. We could certainly put a decent roof over our heads then? Maybe we could get that lot after all?

"I'm sure you gotta think about it, no problem. Talk with your team, your family, or whoever you got to. Then give Lewis here a call by tomorrow, right? I think this is a great opportunity for both of you either which way the inevitable fight goes!" James said.

Carlos stood up and shook my hand, quickly after the three of them departed. Freya then shooed me out of her chair and plumped down, looking at me as I took a seat opposite to her. She folded her hands in her lap, leaned back, and shot her fierce, impatient eyes in me.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?" I asked back.

"What do you think?" Freya asked even more impatiently.

"What do you think?" I asked back.

"For one, this is your choice. But I know I am your coach, so I will give you my two cents alright! I think you're being set up to lose. They just hide it with money. I know you guys need it, so I won't say no, and I will do my best, but Carlos is on another level," Freya said candidly. I knew Freya was opposed from the moment I saw her expression before we had even entered the office.

"You said I would beat him in the pros," I countered.

"But that was when both of you were inexperienced. He has loads of fights by now," Freya shot back.

"I do too. I have lost count of how many fights I have," I said.

Why was I arguing this? Did I want to fight Carlos? Or was it the money? I guess, in some way, there was another desire. There was this underlying desire to prove myself. I had always been a fourth placer most of my life and the definition of mediocrity, this was my chance. Not to win, which I desired too, but mostly to step up and really push my family in the direction we all had been dreaming of. Of course, winning against Carlos, as far-fetched as it was, would unlock doors beyond the wildest imagination I had of my own potential. I had never tried or experienced how it was to excel in anything. And I knew with myself that I didn't need to be great, but I didn't want to slink away either. I didn't want to be great, but I wanted to be in the conversations as someone good. Giving Carlos a good fight would do that.

"The pros are different," Freya said and stood. No more discussion. That wasn't Freya's style. "If you want to do it, I will support it. But I don't like these suits coming down here with a supposed future world champ and offering a newbie big fight. Who they think they are? Who do they even think you are?"

"Jesus, sounds like you're concerned for the boy," Frank chuckled. Freya's eyes shot wide and quickly started shooing us out. "What? What did I say?" Frank was chuckling still as we were shoved out the door.

"Six rounds of heavy bag, Bran!" Freya yelled as she kicked the door behind her.

"So you're gonna go pro then?" Hope asked later as we sat in the back seat of my car. We had driven to a discreet location for obvious reasons and after a bit of post-workout sex, we did our pillow talking. I had tried to bring her up to speed, but there was a lot to cover.

"I don't know. Your mom doesn't like it," I explained, stroking Hope's sweaty hair away from her pretty little face. "And Freya doesn't like it either, apparently."

"That's because she, pardon, they want your pretty face intact," Hope said, looking up at me, booping my nose with a small smile.

"Pff," I snorted.

"You're blind, Bran. Anyway, we better get home. I know Mom won't like it, but I think it is worth considering. If nothing else, I'm dying to get out of that fucking house," Hope said, sighing at the prospect of going home to that said house.

I sighed as well. Both for the same reason, but also because that was the thing. Mel was concerned for my health, Freya was too, but we all knew we couldn't stay at that house any longer. We had to move.

*

"Absolutely not," Mel said. "I don't mind you fighting, but I don't want you to do it as a prize fighter. I don't want us to be dependent on you getting hurt. And the whole thing sounds like they want to set you up to make this other schmuck good. I think it's the wrong motivation. Is this how the boxing world works? They serve canon fodder to the prospects? And what about the guys you'll warm up against, huh? Will they just keel over so you can fight Carlos or will they serve them the same BS?"

Mel was as ferocious about my well-being as with other things regarding me. I loved every word of she said, as she spoke from a place of love. To say Mel was not thrilled about the prospect of me taking loads of money to fight was an understatement. She had made her points clear before, and now she reiterated them.

She wasn't angry, nor was she disappointed. I thought she would be, but instead, she was trying to make me understand why I should not take the deal. I'm not sure, but I think I was getting lectured. Other than that, I also noted, like with Freya, it seemed like my loss to Carlos was a given. Normally, maybe one would take insult, but I did lose to him before. Plus, I knew it came from the concern of my well-being. So rather than pouting, I took the lecture and worries of Mel in stride.

"I always kinda wanted to go pro anyway, so why not get paid while doing it?" I asked, trying to sound sincere. We sat opposite of each other, me in my recliner and her on the couch in her usual spot.

I guess the more I thought about the little setup presented to me by James, the more I wanted it. God damn, salesmen knew how to vow their weave.

"No, you were considering retiring," Mel countered, folding her arms and plumping down on the couch.

"But this is a chance to get money for that home we wanted, maybe even build something," I said, trying to make it sound reasonable. "It's a chance for me to help make that happen."

"Bran. You don't have to fight to prove yourself to me. I will love you no matter what you do. I just don't want you to get hurt," Mel said earnestly.

"But... I mean..." I started, a bit startled by how Mel was just so pure in her perspectives. "I love you too, which is why I want to do this. I never would've taken up boxing and I would never be in the position without you. I want to provide, but I also think I want to prove to myself I am not a quitter..." I said.

"But you're not a quitter. You've proved yourself any bit of the man I desire. It's just such a big risk," Mel argued.

"It was just a big opportunity to get where we want to be, is all," I said, sort of resigning myself to Mel's veto right. I had pleaded my case and lost, it was fine. I wouldn't go against her wishes.

She looked at me in the recliner for a bit before she turned to look around the room. I for mine took the moment to soak in her beauty. Even as she sat in nothing but sweatpants and a T-shirt her forms struck past any fabric with such ease. It never ceased to amaze me how much I adored her, and how much there was of Mel to adore. From her sympathy to her looks. She was the reason I even considered taking the offer. I would happily take a beating if it meant I could give this magnificent woman the life she deserved. Hell, Mel was the reason I boxed in the first place. The things I would do for this heavenly woman. Even as she was lecturing me I wanted to just dive into her cleavage and take in her essence, have her climb on top of me and choke me while she rode my face.