Rebels & Lies (Rebels & Lies Trilogy Book 1) Read Free

mirror.
    He thought about what must be done tonight, that
strategy that he and Danny had gone over endlessly. The fight would all be over
in a matter of minutes—maybe even seconds. No time to be nervous now. There was
only time for getting his head in the game. His expression turned stone cold.
    “You ready now?” Danny asked.
    “You don’t even know.”
    ***
    Steam rose from the spaghetti and tempted Kaspar
as he went in for another mouthful. He spun his fork around the limp noodles in
organic tomato sauce. His front teeth cleared the fork of its tasty contents.
He chewed as he looked across the table at his mother. Jenna Kaspar had not
taken a single bite. She kept a blank stare at her plate. She looked up and
gave that same look to her son. It was like she was looking at him for the last
time.
    Kaspar dropped his fork into his plate. “What’s
wrong?”
    “Hmm?”
    “You haven’t said a word. Haven’t even taken a
bite.”
    “What do you think is wrong, dear?”
    Kaspar paused. He reached down for his fork and
shoved another mouthful in and swallowed. Never before did the pre-fight ritual
feel so awkward. He knew now that he should have never disclosed Razor to her.
Kaspar cursed himself and his unwillingness to keep things from Mother. She
continued to stare back at him.
    “Don’t ignore me, son.” Mother said.
    “I know what’s bothering you.”
    “Then, why did you ask?”
    Another forkful. Mother remained expressionless.
    “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen you like this
before.” Kaspar replied.
    Mother’s expressionless face changed. A single
tear rolled down her right cheek. He felt nothing but guilt at the sight of it.
For the first time ever, he considered walking away, to be done with it, to
take her advice and get a real job to occupy his time with.
    A real job? What was that anyway? Be like the
slaves who worked for the Crimson Corporation? Those people who were beaten by
their slave master’s whips—their impossible deadlines and low wages—and took it
all in with a smile and a sense of entitlement? Be like that kid at the diner
who was forced to skip school so he could support his family? Or, how about
that pimply faced guy at the lobby desk of the apartment building, who found a
way around the government health regulations and still became obese?
    No. Kaspar had to fight Razor so he could win
that prize.
    “I do not want you to go!” Mother cried out.
    A single, warm tear could be felt running down
Kaspar’s own cheek. He hated to see her like this. He hated having to put her
through this before any fight, but this one was different. There was a
legitimate chance he was not coming home.
    “I have to.” Kaspar cried.
    “You keep saying that, but you do not. You do not
have to if you change your mind.”
    “You don’t understand. This fight…this prize…will
feed us for weeks if I can win.”
    “If you can win?”
    “I can go out. I promise you that I will go out
and find work after this fight.”
    “Promise me,” Mother said in between short
breaths, “that you will not fight tonight.”
    “I can’t.”
    “Then, at least promise me you will come back and
that you will never fight again.”
    Kaspar shook his head. Why did he have to go
through this? All week, he tried to not think about the consequences of
entering the ring with Razor. Mother, she seemed to only be interested in the
negative: that Razor outmatched, outweighed, and most of all outclassed her
son.
    “Listen, don’t you worry about me.” Kaspar said.
    “How can you ask me to do that?”
    “Because, I won’t lose, I never have.”
    “Your ego is going to get you killed.” Mother
replied.
    “What would you have me do?”
    “Go out there and find something for yourself.
Something, I do not know, meaningful? I hate to see you waste your youth in a
boxing gym.”
    “I’m feeding us and paying the rent. How is that
meaningless?”
    “That’s not what I meant.”
    “So, what then?” Kaspar