Fighting for Irish
Winning was necessary, which meant focusing was necessary. If Aiden let himself think about anything else—especially the consequences of losing—he was as good as beat. Xander was right. He’d needed the slap in the face.
“You’re holding back,” Xan yelled to be heard above the crowd. “Stop pussyfooting around and lay him out!”
“Fuck off,” he growled as one of Xan’s fight buddies smeared Vaseline on his cheeks, nose, and forehead. “What do you think I’m trying to do out there?”
Xander got right in his face and nailed him with a serious glare. “I think you’re afraid to let yourself go and fight like you used to. But I’m telling you, if you keep the animal caged much longer, Aid, you’re going to lose. That guy is no joke.”
No, he wasn’t. Bulldog was a few inches shorter than Aiden’s six-four, but he weighed in at 240, which made him a heavyweight. At 205, Aiden fell into the light heavyweight category, but the underground circuit wasn’t concerned with keeping strict weight classes.
Aiden glanced across the cage at the other fighter. He was already standing, shaking his muscles out and cracking his neck to either side as he waited to be called out for the final round. Fuck, he was a beast. But he was slow and preferred the ground game. Aiden’s best bet was to keep him standing and hope to land a punch just right that would knock the guy’s lights out.
The end of the break sounded. He stood and shoved his mouth guard back in. Before Xander picked up the stool and left the octagon, he spoke in Aiden’s ear. “Either you finish him or Kat’s as good as sold to the highest bidder.”
So much for not thinking about the consequences.
Both men met in the middle, fists in front of their faces as they slowly circled, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Xander was right. Aiden had been holding back. Not much, but just enough. Enough to keep himself under control. Then, after the whole situation was over and the smoke cleared, he could rein back in this dangerous side of him like he’d done before. But he couldn’t take the risk that that might not get the job done. He needed to let go and drop that last wall.
So, taking a deep breath, he did.
Like a punch of nitrous oxide in a high-performance racecar, Aiden’s darker half flooded his veins. What he hadn’t let out in more than five years stretched and yawned inside him…then shook off the sleep and bared its teeth. It was done. The beast was unleashed. He stared down his opponent and let him see it in his eyes.
Then he attacked.
Man to man, they clashed in the middle of the cage like modern-day gladiators. But instead of a shield and sword, their fists were all they used to both punish and protect. Though Aiden’s appearance hadn’t changed, his technique had. His strikes were harder, quicker.
Bulldog swung and connected a meaty fist with Aiden’s ribs. Pain like shards of glass sliced through his torso. He smiled through the pangs, the kind that if his mouth guard wasn’t in would be all teeth, no mirth. The kind that warned of something unpleasant to come.
Aiden answered with a jab-hook combo that rattled Bulldog’s head, but not for more than a couple of seconds. They engaged each other again and again. The man moved like a boxer and hit like a train, but his bulk made him slow. For every punch he threw, Aiden threw combinations of two or three. Still, they were pretty evenly matched standing up, and Aiden wasn’t in this fight for good times. So when he saw an opportunity, Aiden shot in at the man’s hips and took him to the ground. Hopefully Bulldog’s jujitsu wasn’t up to par with Aiden’s.
He swung his body off to the side, yanked Bulldog’s right arm between his thighs, and slammed the rest of his legs across the prone man’s chest to pin him in place. Pulling Bulldog’s wrist down, Aiden threatened to break the fighter’s arm, bending it back in the wrong damn direction.
It only took a few seconds before Bulldog used his other hand to tap the mat three times, signaling to the ref that he conceded the match. Aiden let go, they both stood up, and the ref raised Aiden’s hand as the winner while the announcer said his piece.
“And the winner, finishing the fight at one minute, thirty-seven seconds in the third round by submission is…Ooooooo’BRIEN!”
With sweat pouring down his body and his breaths still coming hard and fast, Aiden aimlessly scanned the mostly booing crowd. Underground tournaments were hotbeds for big-time gamblers, and apparently Bulldog had been favored to win. Looks like he wasn’t about to make any new friends tonight. Fine by him. He had no intentions of being buddies with anyone. He just wanted to win his fights, collect the money, pay off Sicoli, and keep Kat safe with him.
He shook his head. Those head shots must have been worse than he thought. He couldn’t keep Kat with him. He was making her safe by paying off her bogus debt, then he was sending her on her way with a decent chunk of cash to start a new life somewhere else. That was the plan.
Finally, everything was over. The ref dropped his arm and the crowd was getting pumped up for the next fight. Aiden stepped out of the cage and met Xander, who gave him his duffel bag.
“Nice finish, mate. Let’s do it a little sooner next time, eh?”
“Whatever you say, coach.” Hoisting the duffel strap over his shoulder, he looked up and saw the last two guys he wanted to see: Sully and Vinnie. They stared right at him as they moved through the ebb and flow of the crowd toward him. “Xan, we gotta go. Out the back, come on.”
Xander glanced in the direction of where Aiden had been looking and needed no further explanation to follow him in the opposite direction. They made their way through the sea of people to the back where the fighters had rooms to get ready in. A quick jog to the end of the hall had them through the back door and out to the car.
As Xander steered the Nova out of the parking lot onto the main road, he glanced over at Aiden. “Wanna tell me who the fuckers were we just ran from?”
He plunged a hand through his hair and stared out the open window. “Those are the guys collecting for Sicoli. I’m planning on paying them off with the money I get from winning the tournament.”
“You mean if you win the tournament.” Aiden glared at his friend. “Okay, fine, when you win it. It’s a damn good thing I like the girl. I wouldn’t throw away my chances at starting up my career again for just anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” Aiden asked. “How is fighting in the underground tournaments getting you your career back?”
“You’ve heard of Victor McManus, right?”
“Yeah. He’s one of the most sought-after managers in the MMA circuit. What about him?”
“He’s looking for fresh talent. Raw talent. And it just so happens he’s scouting at the Four by Four. He was there tonight. No doubt you made an impression on him.”
“I’m not looking to make an impression on anyone, Xan. I’m only doing this to get Kat out of danger.”
His friend cut him a sidelong glance. “How much of this is to pay off a personal debt to Jax and how much is because you’re falling for the girl?”
Aiden disguised a wince by dragging a hand down his face. That question hit a little too close for comfort, and he didn’t want to give the answer any serious thought. He and Xan had already had a frank discussion about keeping his hands off Kat now that Aiden had pissed all over his own boundaries with her. He’d been relieved to hear Xan had never set his sights on her in the first place.
“I owe Jax. And it’s not as if I had anything pressing going on in my life. I’ll see this through. Make sure Kat is in the clear and safely back with her sister. Then I’ll go back to Boston where I belong.”
Though he said the words, he didn’t necessarily feel like he belonged in Boston anymore. His desire to go back to what he knew had lessened more and more as the weeks he’d spent around Kat went by. And after the way the past week had gone, he was having a hard time picturing himself back in his old neighborhood at all anymore.
Hearing her call his name—his real name—as she came beneath him had almost done
him in. Three words that never should’ve entered his mind had damn near tumbled from his lips in the aftermath of that moment. Thank Christ he’d had enough presence of mind to bite his tongue before he’d made a fool of himself.
But a close brush with humiliation hadn’t dampened his libido in the slightest. He’d spent the rest of the night alternating between talking with her about the most mundane things and making love to her in new ways. They’d learned little things about each other like favorite colors and foods and movies. Then they’d learned about each other in much more carnal ways. Like what made them moan and gasp and go absolutely fucking mindless.
As they’d lain together in the early morning hours, exhausted and spent, she’d kissed his neck before whispering, “Thank you for my night. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”
She’d been saying good-bye. His throat had tightened with a knot of emotions, but he forced himself to focus on the fact that he couldn’t let her leave before he paid off the debt.
“What if,” he began, his voice not more than a rasp in the dawn, “we could have more than one night? Would you stay?”
She angled her head on his shoulder to look up at him, but he continued staring at the ceiling. “Aiden—”
Damn, he loved the way she said his name.
“—look at me,” she said, palming the side of his face with one slender hand. He did. “You’re the first man to ever treat me as something other than a means to an end. Whether what I feel for you is borne of gratitude or something more, it would be really easy for me to agree so I could have that for a little longer.” She raised her head from his shoulder, and her eyes pinned him with an honesty that shook him to his core. “But I’m done being used by men, even if they’re more hero than villain. So if you’re looking for a fuck buddy, I’m not your girl.”
Either you break her heart, or they’ll sell her and break her will to live.
“I didn’t plan on getting my emotions involved,” he said. “But now that they are, I can’t ignore them any more than you can.” Truth. “I think we should see where this goes.”
“I’m afraid of letting myself have a taste of something good if it isn’t going to last. I think I’d rather not know how green the grass is.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Lie. He intended on leaving as soon as she was safe, even though it would hurt her. It made him sick to think how much she’d despise him, but it would be better that way.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”
Relief washed through him, but chasing its heels was an oily dread for what he knew would happen in just a few short weeks. He’d done his best to shove both from his mind as he kissed her long and slow until they’d depleted the very last vestiges of their energy before sinking into a deep sleep.
The rest of the week had passed with one surreal event after another. They’d taken Murphy to the vet and then the local pet store to stock up on any and everything a kitten could need or want in its nine lives. Kat often watched him train in the mornings, and then they’d spend their afternoons playing with the fur ball at her place before going into work together. And since she didn’t like the idea of leaving Murphy alone all night, she stayed at the apartment and he never had trouble finagling an invitation to stay over.
In fact, tonight was the first time they’d really been apart since everything started the week before. Usually he was scheduled to work Saturday nights with her, but he’d gotten someone else to cover his shift, then told Kat he gave up his hours because the other guy needed some extra cash.
At last Xander and Aiden pulled into their driveway. The crunching of gravel under the Nova’s tires alerted Ally, who opened her giant maw and hissed in protest from in front of the porch steps when the headlights swung over her.
“Cranky croc,” Xander muttered.
“She’s an alligator, not a crocodile.”
“Either way, she’s a moody female,” he countered. “Speaking of moody females…”
Aiden looked up to see Kat’s car parked in front of the house. He wouldn’t classify her as a moody female, but once she saw him and realized he’d been up to more than just giving a coworker some extra hours, that might change.
Chapter Fourteen
The sounds of car doors banging followed by the low rumblings of male voices penetrated the light sleep Kat had managed to slip into. Wanting to see Irish after her long shift at Lou’s, she’d driven over to his place. She’d been disappointed to find him and Xander gone, but she wasn’t his mother. He didn’t need to check in with her or get her permission. As much as the not-knowing stung, she’d turned around with every intention of going home to Murphy…until she saw that Ally had moved to the bottom of the steps. Then she hastily decided to hang out and wait for the guys to return.
Yawning, she uncurled herself from the corner of the couch and stretched her aching limbs. Kat folded herself back in, wrapping her arms around her legs, when a thought flitted through her mind. Would Irish be upset she’d come over unannounced? Maybe he’d really taken the night off because he needed space from her. Or maybe he’d simply grown tired of her already and wanted to move on but didn’t know how to tell her.
Shit! What had she been thinking coming over uninvited? Now she felt ten kinds of dumb.
She heard Xander ordering the alligator to “quit her bitching,” followed by heavy footsteps ascending the creaking wooden stairs. Kat launched off the couch, suddenly feeling like she had no right to be there, much less lounging on the couch. Clasping her hands in front of her, she prepared to explain her presence, apologize, and make a hasty retreat. But the moment the guys walked through the door, her plan was all but forgotten.
Her fingers flew up to her mouth on a gasp. “Holy shit, what happened to you two?”
Xander’s eye was cut and his face looked like he’d come from the dentist and forgot to take the cotton rolls out of his cheek. Irish wasn’t much better, with a black right eye under a one-inch gash and swollen bottom lip where his healing cut had split open again. Xander cut a presumably innocent glance at his friend. The kind that asked whether he was supposed to make up a story or beat feet. Some women may have missed the “guilty” signals, but she’d become adept at picking up on people’s tells. A perpetual distrust of her fellow man and years of working in bars and diners attributed to that particular talent.
Irish gave a slight shake of his head and dropped a large gym bag at his feet. Xan clapped his hands together. “You know what I just remembered? I was supposed to go over to Sandy’s tonight, so I’ll just take a quick shower—”
A throat clearing interrupted him.
“Or I could take one over at her place.”
Irish inclined his head. “That’d be good.”
“Right, then,” Xander said on his way to the door. “Lovely to see you again, Kat.”
“Night, Xander.”
They stood there, not moving or speaking until they could no longer hear the roar of the Nova. Finally, he broke the silence. “I need to shower.”
“I can see that. Basic first aid might not be a bad idea, either. Want to tell me what happened?”
“I entered that underground tournament Xander’s in. I had a fight tonight. Xan, too.”
She canted her head. “I thought you never wanted to fight again.”
He shrugged one shoulder and she found herself resenting the T-shirt for hiding the undulating muscles underneath. “Been reconsidering. There’s this big-time manager, Victor McManus. He’s scouting out there for new talent. Figured I’d give it a shot.”
Kat couldn’t stop the ear-to-ear grin from spreading on her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I think it’s great. I’m so happy for you.” Unable to hold back any longer, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. He sucked in a sharp breath and cursed as he grabbed her arms to hold her back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing serious. Just a few bruises.”
/> “Shit, I’m so sorry.” She stared at his torso as though she’d be able to see the damage. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, but it’d be great if you hold off on giving me any bear hugs for a couple weeks,” he said with a wry half grin. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t give me any of your kitten hugs.”
Kat raised an eyebrow. “What are my kitten hugs?”
“You know the ones.” He took hold of her hands and brought them up behind his neck, even though the strain on his face told her it caused him pain. “Your arms go up like that, mine go around your waist, and you lean into me all soft and sweet…” He pulled her body flush with his. “Like this.”
“Ah, yes, now I remember,” she quipped, gazing up at him. “These are the kind conducive to kissing, am I right?”
“Yeah, they are.”
He bent his head and she noticed a smear of dark red, caked-on blood below his ear. She stopped him with a palm held between their faces. Gingerly touching the area, she winced at the thought of what might be under there. “Does that one hurt?”
He reached up, prodded, then scraped off the mark. “Blood’s not mine.”
Kat gaped at his nonchalance. “Gross!” Stepping out of his arms, she said, “Your blood and sweat is one thing, but I’m not making out with you while you’re wearing someone else’s DNA.”
Chuckling at her retreat, he advanced. “Fair enough. I’m sure you’d appreciate a relaxing hot shower after your long shift. Why don’t we take one together? Conserve water and all that.”
Sex in the shower? Surely that took some sort of finesse. Some experience. Both of which she didn’t possess. Their relationship was new enough that she still cared whether she made an extreme fool of herself. Beyond that, with her luck she’d cause them to slip and fall and he’d suffer an injury that forced him to withdraw from the tournament, ruining his chances for resurrecting his career. No way could she have that on her conscience.