The F King:A Bad Boy Romance(37)

The young sports therapist was a better fit for the story they'd  concocted anyway, since everybody with an internet connection had  already seen Ariana's pussy and read about what a kinky little fucker  she was. Skylar oozed innocence and the wholesome girl-next-door image.  She was perfect in every way.

I had to have her.

Beep





Skylar





Earlyish in the year, in my biomechanics class, we'd spent a few  lectures studying a video clip of Austin applying an arm bar submission  to Drake Chapman. A few people already knew that I had a kind of  internship with NHBFC, so people spent as much time asking me questions  about what the fighters, especially Austin, were really like as they did  asking the professor about the trauma happening inside Chapman's arm.

It was the same after every NHBFC event, a flurry of questions asking me  about which fighters I'd seen or even helped treat. With Austin's  spectacular win, he was more of a talking point than normal, but I  deflected those ones with the normally-true excuse of not being in the  team that looked after him.

How could I explain to them that I met Austin, and what it was like to  meet him, when I couldn't even explain it to myself? I saw him, and my  body ached with need. That was the simple blunt truth of the matter.

I'd been attracted to boys before, but the seeds of shame and confusion  that my father had sown always blossomed straight away, and shut me down  until the mere hint of interest in or from a guy had almost sent me  into a panic attack. Not so with Austin.

There was something about him that spoke in a language of dirty promises  to the part of me that I kept in the locked box, and spoke so  powerfully that there was no time for the humiliation and self-loathing I  was so used to. That's not to say it didn't hit me afterwards, because  it did. Harder than ever.

That's why I was glad he was only around the New Ashby Event Center for  the NHBFC events. When they weren't being held, there were a lot of  smaller mixed martial arts tournaments, or even completely unrelated  sporting events that NHBFC contracted their sports therapy team out to  help support. So there was still plenty of work for me to fit around my  classes.

I'd been working there for over a year, and had only come face to face  with Austin once. Even that was only due to special circumstances that I  had to agree to, so he could be avoided. That, in turn, would help me  avoid those voices in my head, some of which sounded a lot like my dad.

You know what kind of girls run around with boys? Whores. The stupider  and uglier they are, the cheaper they are, too. If I ever catch you …   girl, I'll know you're the cheapest one of them all, and I swear you  won't sit down for a week …

I'd heard it so much that I believed it. I may not have been a  supermodel rocket scientist, but I could stay away from the boys at  least. Anything for the hope of some peace at home. Anything to not hate  myself.

Today there was a local Brazilian Jiu Jitsu tournament being held at the  event center. After an interesting morning working with a kid who had  refused to tap out to an omoplata submission, I was again relegated to  the more common task of restocking the various supplies needed by the  more experienced members of the team.

Then Gordon tracked me down and sent chills of fear down my spine.

"Hey Skylar, I just got a call from somebody in management, they wanna  see you. Robbie Johnson, some new guy. Is there something I should know  about?"         

     



 

Oh, please no!

Somehow, somebody knew about what had happened in Austin's room. They  saw me go in, or worse, what if there were security cameras or something  in the rooms, and they saw me just about to put my hand on his  erection?

Everything I'd been working towards was about to go down the toilet.

My heart, especially mobile lately, settled down in the pit of my  stomach and started the task of being digested. I felt heavy as I rose  to my feet in front of the supplies cupboard.

"Um …  not that I can think of," I said.

"Right. Well, let me know afterwards. I don't want to be kept in the  dark about what's going on in my team. He's on the third floor, by the  Media Relations department. When you get up there, go ahead and ask  somebody, they'll be able to show you to his office."

"Sure."

If I'm still in your team.

I felt like I was digging my own grave when I finally found Mr.  Johnson's office and stood in his doorway. He was still in the process  of setting up his area. With the open boxes everywhere and the pictures  of comically dressed professional wrestlers on the walls, my feelings of  dread almost seemed out of place.

"Mr. Johnson?"

"Ah, you must be Skylar? Skylar Cross?" he asked, sounding like some old New York gangster.

"Yes, sir."

"Take a seat." He gestured at the only option, in front of his desk.

Picking my way around boxes and sporting memorabilia, I sat down and  concentrated on holding back tears as I awaited my fate. Mr. Johnson sat  opposite me and shuffled through some of the papers on his desk.

"Here we are. Skylar Cross, in the Tier-2 Sports Therapy team, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"I was looking through your resume over here, and comparing it against  the others in that team, as well as some of the torrent of applications  we've had lately. And I couldn't help but notice yours looked a little …   short."

He handed over a few pieces of paper, which I recognized as the token  application I'd completed when Uncle Malcolm got me the job here.  Included was my resume, detailing my excellent work as a grocery store  checkout operator and my ability to be a high school student.

"Is there perhaps a page or two missing?"

"No, sir. My uncle helped me get a job here," I said. "But I'm studying  at UNA to get all the right qualifications." I rushed to add.

Mr. Johnson laced his fingers together on top of his desk. "But you don't have said qualifications as of right now?"

"No."

"Hmmm. It's an unfortunate situation we're in, Skylar. There are a lot  of really bright kids out there that would give their right arm to work  with NHBFC, you know. Fresh out of college, crushing student debt. Fully  qualified and licensed. You can see how it's not fair for them, if we  were to keep you on and leave a better qualified candidate out in the  cold, right?"

Every breath I took started to hitch as I fought off the onset of  sobbing like a baby. I was going to lose the battle against the tears. I  was going to lose this battle with life. After an all too brief escape,  I could already picture going back home to Brookmere and my dad. It  would be years before I could save up enough money to continue my  studies. Before I could think about being happy.

"But …  but please! I w-work really hard, everybody says so! A-ask  G-Gordon, I pick things up really fast, I'm never late, never s-sick. I  need this …  I …  I can work for a little less pay, I-"

"And then I understand there's an issue of a company policy breach between yourself and Austin Aquila," Mr. Johnson interrupted.

There it was, the one-two punch knockout. I blushed, in addition to all  my other problems. Now word would spread around everywhere that I was  exactly what my dad always said I was. I didn't even do anything! It  wasn't fair!

Robbie Johnson sat back in his chair and let me stew in my humiliation  for somewhere close to forever before he spoke again. The next word out  of his mouth was totally unexpected.

"However," he began, "we're trying something new here at NHBFC, something you can actually help us with."

"W-what is it?"

Mr. Johnson ignored my question for the time being. "This is a project  that would move quite quickly, you'd begin next week, and we expect it  would last for a few months. You'd receive a five thousand dollar bonus  on top of your regular wages."

My eyes went wide. I could really stay? And five thousand dollars? That  would take so much pressure off the rent and tuition fees. My heart beat  with wild hope.

"Yes, I'll do it! What is it?"         

     



 

Robbie Johnson looked like a fisherman with his hook in deep. "You don't  have to, of course …  but then." He gestured at the papers in my hand and  shrugged. "We've got a lot of people who want in on this project …  but  when Austin asked for you specifically? Forget about it."

My brow furrowed at the same time as my heart leapt at the notion that  Austin even remembered me. What on Earth was this project?





Skylar





If anybody had have told me that I might end up in an arranged marriage,  I'd have said they were crazy. Yet, here I was, about to announce it to  the world.

Marriage had always been on some untouchable pedestal in my mind. That  pillar of my upbringing came crashing down when I was faced with the  choice of this or going home, though, and I signed the contract. I  signed the non-disclosure agreement too.