Page 85 of Morally Corrupt

"Yes, sir," I answer, having learned that respect goes a long way with these people.

"What's your name?"

"Adrian Barnett, sir." He squints his eyes at me and purses his lips.

"And when's your next fight?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Good, good. We have a new recruit. Andrew wants you to train him, show him the ropes."

"A new recruit?" I ask. Weird. Fighters aren't usually supposed to train new recruits.

"Yeah, well… he'll have more chances if you help him. He's a bit gaunt if you ask me. Don't know what he's doing in a place like this. But hey, boss says to do it, we do it." I nod slowly in understanding.

"Come now, let me show you to the lad." He heads to the back of the gym, where the weights are, and he points at a kid struggling with a pair of dumbbells that can't be over twenty-five pounds each.

When he sees us approach, he stops and wipes the sweat from his brow. He looks… healthy, unblemished. Not a usual condition when you're out of the Basilica, especially to advance to this level. This immediately tells me he didn't come in the regular route.

"Oh, hey there." He gives a hesitant smile that neither me nor the old man return.

I take a second to study the boy. He's got shaggy long hair, a couple of piercings in his ears, and some random tattoos on his skinny arms.

"This here is Barnett. He's gonna show you the ropes." The man looks between the two of us and shakes his head. "Don't get yourself killed, kid." He turns and leaves me with him.

"I'm Adrian Barnett," I say and put my hand out to him. I know people in this place get off on intimidation, but I can't help but feel for the kid when his slender frame is so obvious in the gym.

"Theodore Hastings. But call me Theo." He returns my handshake, and I can feel him trembling. Somehow that makes me give him a small, assuring smile.

"Well, Theo, let's get you started, shall we?"

FOURTEEN YEARS AGO

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I punch Theo's shoulder as he opens the door to the room.

"What the fuck, man?" He jumps back and scowls at me.

"Do you really have a death wish?" His hand goes to massage the spot I hit, and I see him cringe in pain as he heads towards the bed. "Don't even tell me you tried your last fight. You were just taking hit after hit…"

He collapses on the bed, clearly tired from his fight.

I shake my head and am about to head out when I hear muffled sobs. I half-turn and see Theo with his head in the pillow.

"Shit, dude, are you okay?" I immediately ask.

"It's all my fault…" His hands clench into fists, and he smacks the mattress.

I don't even know what to say to comfort him.

When Theo arrived two years ago as a scrawny kid ready to take on seasoned fighters, it had been solely to rebel against his parents. His wealthy, well-connected parents. Apparently, for a posh kid, it's not enough to get a few piercings and ink on your body.

No, the best way to rebel is to throw yourself headfirst into pit fighting, where the chances of getting out alive are against you. Honestly, the only reason Theo's still standing today is because I haven't given up on him. I've trained and trained him until he could hold his own. Well… in the first year, it was mostly me nursing him to health and teaching him how to not get killed.

It all changed, though, when his parents were killed in a car accident. Theo blames himself for it because he wasn't there. If you ask me, that's bollocks. I'd gone through the whole blaming myself routine too. In his case, the accident couldn't have been prevented.

In mine, maybe…

Now, it seems that Theo is dead set on getting himself killed in the ring. I don't understand him. He's already been accepted into Harvard but decided to defer his enrollment to fight in this dump. At least I have an ulterior motive for being here. Him? He's wasting away his potential.

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