Wren trembled inwardly as he stared at his ward across from him. Her eagerness was obvious as she leaned forward to listen, but he wondered if telling his darkest secrets would repel her in the end. Grief sliced his heart as he considered the thought of losing her. Yet, maybe when she knew his past sins, distance would naturally come between them. Something he was having trouble establishing with every passing moment. His mind whirled to his life just as he had entered the tender years of sixteen. He licked his dry lips and started to speak the story he had never told anyone.

"I lived in Chicago, Missouri with my mom until a little after my sixteenth birthday. My dad wasn't ever in our lives, but we were happy. She was a great mother. She worked hard to make ends meet and to pay for me to go to a decent private school." Wren looked to Leah for reassurance. When her blond head bobbed in understanding, he continued, all hesitation gone. "I wanted to become a boxer, so she sent me to a school with the best opportunities in that field that she could find. Boxing was my dream since I was five and she loved that in me. She was my biggest cheerleader. I thrived in that school and my future looked bright. So, you can imagine how devastated I was when she told me we needed to move to a different neighborhood to live with her sister. We were still in Chicago, but it was too far away to go to that school. Looking back, she had a very good reason for every decision she made that year." He paused as grief struck him anew, memories reopening old wounds. "But, I was too stupid and foolish to consider the reasons. My dreams were crumbling and I was furious."

"That must have been hard though," Leah said, compassion evident.

"It was hard, but she insisted she had found a public school offering a boxing program and encouraged me to continue fighting for my career that way. I remember the pride in her eyes as she told me she had faith I could do it. And I could have! I could have made it to a career level, but instead, I blew it. Anger and bitterness consumed me. I did join the boxing team but my motives for fighting changed. It became an outlet for my frustration. Regardless, I became the top player within a month of being there but that just frustrated me more. I didn't feel the teaching there would let me reach my full potential. Then, I lost my first competition. The competition played dirty, and when the ref didn't call it, I lost it. Threw the rule book out the window and lit into him."

"Oh my," Leah still carried sympathy, though she seemed surprised, which encouraged the butler to continue.

" My coach kicked me off the team after that, concerned I was too angry of a person to entrust any more fighting skills to. I guess in his eyes, I had become a dangerous person."

"Kind of understandable..." Leah said and Wren nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with her.

"Perfectly understandable. Anyway, like every school, we had bullies. However, instead of being their target, they invited me to join them, starting by inviting me to an event some friends were hosting. Birds of a feather flock together. I agreed and that night, snuck out of my aunt's house and met up with the guys at an old abandoned shed on the outskirts of town. No police ever came that way so they had set up an illegal fighting ring. It was here, that all my troubles started..."

***************************************************************

The crowd roared in approval as one of the contenders crashed to the hard floor. From where he stood close to handmade rope ties forming a complete square around the wooden platform, Wren could see beads of sweat mingled with blood gushing from the fallen's eyebrow. Adrenaline rushed, he joined the shouts as he screamed at the middle-aged man to stand.

"He's not going to win this one!" A nearby girl laughed gleefully as she grinned at her girlfriends surrounding her.

"Wanna bet?" Wren had to yell above another roar as the man was kicked in his gut. "I say he makes a comeback!"

Eyeing the tall, brown-haired boy who had challenged her, she smirked. "You're on!"

Focusing his attention back to the man who was still getting his side kicked in, Wren grinned in victory. He knew a fighter when he saw one. This man just needed to get mad and the tide would change. Then, as if the beaten man reacted to Wren's very thoughts, he gripped the boot swinging towards his stomach in both hands, using the very last of his strength to shove his opponent backward. The aggressor, not realizing how close he had come to the edge of the platform, struggled to regain his balance. Failing, he fell with a thud on the cement floor beneath.

"Disqualified!" A young man who had been standing on a bucket at the vertex of the square platform raised one arm, blowing his whistle loudly. Obviously, he was the referee.

When the crowd erupted again into boos and cheers, Wren let his gaze travel back to the girl he had made the bet with and returned her smirk back to her. "You can pay me later!" He yelled, throwing a wink. She rolled her eyes, but he didn't miss the blush tinting her cheeks. His ego went up a notch.

"Hey, Wren!"

Feeling an arm go around his broad shoulders, he jerked his head to see the school bully standing there, a snide grin on his face. "What do you think man? Pretty rad, huh?"

"It's awesome! I had no idea such a place existed. Thanks for inviting me, Jason."

"Well, the rules are you have to be seventeen, so make sure you don't let em know you're only sixteen. OK?"

Feeling the excitement rise in his chest, he grinned. "Sure!"

"So...you wanna fight?"

Oh...he had been hoping he would be asked. When he just grinned at the slightly older high schooler, Jason laughed.

"Come with me." Jason nodded his head in the direction out of the crowd and Wren followed. Already, he could feel his pulse in his temples and his palms were sticky with sweat. This was so different from any competition he had ever partaken in. He knew it was dangerous. Yet...he couldn't seem to resist its pull.

Jason led him to a small table to the side, where a hardened older woman sat. Wren guessed her to be forty and when she smiled at him, he immediately pinned her as a druggy. If the dark and rotted teeth weren't proof enough, the welts on her skin and her overly small frame screamed it.

"He wants in, Maddie." Jason jabbed a thumb at Wren.

"We don't go no more younguns left to fight. Only a thirty-year-old man is left. I doubt yer friend is wanting to take em on."

When Wren shot them a questioning look, Jason shrugged. " We usually only let people fight around the same age group. This thing is almost over, so there aren't any your age left."

Feeling recklessness being added to his many other macho feelings coursing through him, he grinned. "I'll fight him."

The woman chuckled, while Jason eyed him up and down. "Well, you can if you want, But you don't mind if I bet on the other fella, do ya?"

"I hate to see you lose your money, but no. Be my guest!"

"It's settled then! " Maddie grinned, crookedly. "Get him up there, Jason! The money is going to come flying in on this one!"

Wren started to walk away with Jason, before turning back to Maddie. He leaned across the table and whispered. "Bet on me. You won't regret it." Then, with what would become his signature wink, he jogged after Jason in an easy stride.

It wasn't until he was standing shirtless on the wooden platform, he started to feel nervous. He rested a hand on the loose rope, eyeing his opponent in the opposite corner, before trying to swallow the spit that was nowhere to be found. The man was huge! Standing well over 6 feet, his arms protruded from his body from bulging muscles that tightened his shoulders.

"One knock with those guns and I'm out cold!" He thought desperately. " Seriously, the dude must be taking steroids!" He shook his head to try to clear away the panic clawing at his mind. Yes, the man was big but Wren calculated his agility as they stepped towards the middle of the ring, noting his foe's steps were loud, slow and heavy. Wren could feel his confidence returning when he realized the man may be strong, but he wasn't fast. Not to mention he didn't seem to be that smart, for instead of measuring Wren up and trying to figure out his weaknesses, he was instead, grinning at the audience, occasionally shaking one rounded fist in the air as if he had already won.

The young ref who had stood on the sidelines, joined the two. He looked serious as he eyed them both. "Three rounds. If you fall off the arena, it will be an immediate loss. If rendered unconscious, the opponent wins. No kicks to the groin or throat. Understood?"

Already the onlookers were going crazy and Wren strained to hear. When they both nodded, the ref once again raised his arm and as if on cue, the noise around them went deathly silent. Even the tiniest sound would equal to an explosion at that moment.

"Sorry Kid." The middle-aged man gave him a cocky grin, " I'm a little embarrassed to be fighting a young one like you. I will go easy on -"

The shrill whistle split the air, and Wren used all of his speed training he had been honing since he was five into that couple seconds. Channeling all of his strength into his fists, he sent three rapid blows to the man's side, before springing back on the balls of his feet, barely dodging the punch that came swinging at him.

"Don't be sorry," Wren grinned now, dancing on his toes all around the stunned man. "Because you are going to lose either way!" Whether his opponent was shocked at Wren's speed or the fact that his hits actually made his rib cage throb, Wren wasn't sure. The other fighter collected himself and Wren saw respect enter the man's gaze. He knew this fight had become serious and that suddenly, age was no longer a factor.

This particular fight became known as one of the longest brawls the fighting ring had ever beheld. The onlookers became enthralled with the young boy who seemed to have an uncanny amount of speed and strength, as he dodged blow after blow of his contender, ducking and rolling, occasionally managing to place a lightning punch. Advanced fighters observing from the sidelines realized that this boy had skills beyond his years, and began to bemoan their decision to place money on the bigger man.

Wren wasn't sure how long he could manage to block and dodge his opponent's powerful punches, but decided it would be best to wear him out before the three rounds were up. Then, what he had been dreading, happened. As Wren went to dodge under another punch, his opponent's knee appeared right in front of him, nailing him in the forehead. Stars filled Wren's vision as he hit the bloodied wood floor with a thud, but it was the rank smell of the red fluid scattered over the planks that cleared his mind just in time. His opponent was airborne, seconds away from landing atop him.

Wren's next move was not thought out, or even preconceived. It was as if his body moved for him, naturally, on instinct. It was this instinct buried inside that made him the incredible boxer he had been and was and was becoming. Focusing all of his strength in his core, he flipped himself to his side, sending his leg in one fluid swing into the man's face. Foot collided with jaw. Even above the roar of the spectators, he heard bones crunching as his foot connected, before the middle-aged man fell with a thud to the arena floor, unconscious.

In truth, Wren felt stunned himself. He wasn't sure how he had managed to pull off that move in such a quick and powerful manner. He staggered to his feet, disbelief his only emotion. Even the screaming eyewitnesses sounded far away before the deafening noise filled his senses, bringing him back to reality.

The ref, who had come to the fallen fighter's side, stood up, shocked. He lifted his stunned gaze to Wren, before grinning. Then, he reached out, lifting Wren's arm high into the air. " Ladies and Gentlemen - Your winner!"