“Jesus Christ, baby, no. Look at me,” he urged with his fingers under her chin. He nearly broke down from the overwhelming despair staring up at him through her watery gaze. “Don’t you ever wish that again, you hear me? Not ever.”
Her chin trembled as the emotions started bubbling to the surface finally. “Y-you have no idea what it w-was like,” she rasped. “After that he always took me at night, in my bed. I never knew when. Sometimes it was several times a week. There were weeks I never saw him. But every time it happened, I turned my head and focused on the moon through my window. Seeing it brought a certain calm over me.
“I learned everything I could about it so that even when I couldn’t see it, I’d close my eyes and think about where it was and why, and it helped me slip away from my ugly reality. Ever since then the moon has held a very spiritual meaning for me. Almost like she was my guardian, helping me through the darkness to find her light.”
“Did you tell anyone? Vanessa?”
“My first thought was to tell Nessie. I knew she’d make him sorry for ever laying a hand on me. He must have known that because he made sure to tell me that if Vanessa found out, she’d drop out of college and end up in the same dead-end life as our mother.”
“Bullshit,” he spit with contempt. “He was trying to scare you so you wouldn’t say anything.”
“I know that now, but at fourteen the last thing I wanted to do was ruin my sister’s life.”
“How long did it go on?”
“Oh, he got bored with me after a year.”
“A year?”
“Yeah,” she said flatly. “I think he became impotent, but I never knew for sure. But then he decided just because he wasn’t enjoying me didn’t mean others couldn’t. So for a price, he allowed his friends to visit me instead.”
Holy fuck. Horror washed over him, twisting his gut in knots for the young girl in his arms who’d been abused so viciously. How she could bear any man’s touch was a miracle. Aiden pulled her in tighter, though whether it was more for her comfort or his he couldn’t say. “Christ, baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice was barely a rasp due to the golf ball of grief now stuck in his throat.
“There’s no reason for you to be sorry; you didn’t do it.”
Her behavior since they’d gotten out of the shower had grown more detached. Like she was tucking herself away and leaving a robotic shell behind to continue the conversation. He didn’t like it. As much as he hated seeing her cry or get upset, he’d welcome that as opposed to this disturbing…nothing.
“Besides,” she added, “it’s over, so no big deal.”
“Kat, none of that has anything to do with who you are.”
“Yes, it does.” She sprang up from his lap, adjusting the towel under her arms and glaring at him as though he’d just insulted her. “I didn’t fight them! I let them have sex with me. Like a goddamn whore!”
Aiden grabbed the towel rack over his head and pulled himself to a standing position. Her hysteria was escalating as she revealed more of the self-deprecation she must have lived with most of her life. To think she’d been so violently mistreated made him absolutely murderous. He tried to go to her, to offer her what little comfort he could, but Kat slapped his hands away.
“Don’t you get it?” she cried. “Vanessa never would have allowed anything like that to happen to her. She would have slept with a knife, a gun, done something! If I’d been more like Nessie, none of that would’ve ever happened. But I was too weak and scared. I deserved what I got.”
“Fuck that,” he growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a quick shake. She’d gone too far. Aiden would sooner chew off his arms than listen to that bullshit. “You never deserved any of it. Not one second of what they did to you. You were just a kid, for chrissakes! I don’t care if you were walking around that house naked and shaking your ass. He had no right to touch you. None of them did. You understand me?”
Some of the tension leaked from her muscles as she nodded ever so slightly. She sniffed hard and choked back a sob with little success. She hugged herself around her middle and peered up at him with an almost dazed look. Her voice was flat with a sad acceptance. “He took everything from me, Irish. My innocence, my self-respect. All my firsts. I can never get any of those things back. They’re gone forever.”
Aiden cupped her face and willed her to believe him. “I know it’s hard not to live in the past. I struggle with that every fucking day. But you’re free now. Free from everyone who’s ever hurt you or held you back. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. I don’t know anybody who could’ve walked in your shoes and come out the other side half as amazing as you have.”
A glimmer of hope passed over her features. “You mean that?” she whispered.
He made an X over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” She gave him a wan smile, but he wasn’t about to get choosy. He’d take what he could get. Using the heel of one hand, she wiped the wetness from her eyes, dragging any remaining mascara down her pink cheeks. “Come on, kitten,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Like a child, she curled into him, already half asleep from the exhaustion of reliving her nightmares. He carried her into his room and laid her in the center of the mattress. After removing her damp towel and drawing the sheet over her small frame, Aiden sat next to her and lightly brushed the hair away from her face that had freed itself from her braid. Her lashes stood out in wet spikes and her lips were red and swollen from crying.
If he had any artistic talent whatsoever, he’d paint her tragic beauty, hoping to purge the image from his mind. But as it was, Aiden knew he’d never be able to forget the way she’d looked as she broke down and bared her soul-deep pain to him in the bathroom of a rented cabin in the swamplands of Louisiana.
When he was sure she slept, he stretched out next to her and continued to stroke her hairline as the waning moon traveled across the sky. To the marrow of his bones, he resented that he couldn’t take away her pain or go back in time and prevent that bastard from ever touching her. He was a hell of a lot better at tearing people apart than he was at putting them back together.
God help whoever tried to hurt her now, because there was no doubt in Aiden’s mind…he’d kill them without even blinking.
Chapter Fifteen
Kat sat on the trunk of her car and watched Irish roar up the road on his Suzuki. She loved how he looked on it, all stretched out, his body in total sync with the machine as he leaned into the turn that brought him into the parking lot at Lou’s. He parked next to her and swung his leg over in a graceful arc that belied his size. Pushing his sunglasses onto his head, he strode toward her with that sexy half grin hitching up one corner of his mouth.
Damn, the man still gave her butterflies just by looking at her. There was rarely a moment in the day or night when she wasn’t thinking of him. She wasn’t an expert in the area of romance and love, but just by going on basic knowledge, she’d guess she was falling hard and fast for a certain Southie fighter.
“Hey, there, beautiful,” he said as he stepped between her legs. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Kat beamed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”
“Oh, yeah,” he played along. “It’s gotta be, what, like an hour or something by now. Which is pretty close to forever by my standards when it comes to you.”
She laughed and eagerly accepted his kiss. He wasn’t kidding. It’d been at most an hour and a half since they’d seen each other. That’s how it had been practically all week. The only time they were really apart was when one of them needed to return to their own place for a change of clothes. They even transported Murphy back and forth, depending on where they were spending the night.
Being with Irish was as easy as breathing for Kat. He wasn’t the most romantic guy in the world, or even the most affectionate. But he understood her on levels she wasn?
??t even sure she knew herself. He was so in tune with her, as though he sensed exactly what she needed and when.
As for him, he was still mostly a mystery to Kat. She knew only a few things about his background and when she asked questions, he changed the subject or skillfully distracted her with several orgasms until she couldn’t think straight enough for a decent inquisition. As much as she longed to know more about him, she found it hard to complain about his manipulative tactics when they felt so good.
“Ready to go to work?” he asked after finally releasing her lips.
She raised a dubious eyebrow at him. “That depends. How many tips are you going to cost me tonight?”
“Depends on how many assholes try to play grab-ass with you.”
She huffed out a breath and planted her fists on her hips.
“Okay, tell you what,” he said, pulling her in until their chests rubbed together, the friction causing her nipples to pebble beneath the thin cotton of her shirt. “You keep track of how many dickwads short your tips because of me…” Leaning in, he sucked her earlobe into his mouth before releasing it with a quiet pop. “And that’s how many times I’ll make you come tonight.”
Suddenly, losing tips didn’t sound like such a horrible thing. With a slight squeak in her voice, she agreed to his compromise, then sealed the deal with a scorching kiss to rival the bayou’s midday heat.
After they came up for air, Irish helped her down from the car and grabbed the nylon pack strapped to his gas tank. He used it to hold his wallet, sunglasses, and an extra shirt in case some drunk spilled his drink—or his blood—on the one he wore.
As they started toward the back entrance to the bar, two guys stepped around the corner. “Hey, there he is. O’Brien,” called the taller of the two, “how’s it going, buddy?”
Irish stopped short, grabbing ahold of her arm to pull her level with him. He tensed and angled his body to put himself slightly in front of her. She wondered at his discomfort, since the men obviously knew him. She didn’t think anyone around here knew his real name except her and Xander.
“Gentlemen,” he answered. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t be so rude,” the man admonished. “Why don’t you introduce us to your lady friend?”
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “This here is Sydney,” he began. Kat was relieved when he used her alias. Despite supposedly being in the clear, she wasn’t quite ready to let all her walls down yet. “Syd, this is Sully and Vinnie. They’re—”
“Independent agents keeping an eye out for new talent at the Four by Four,” Sully finished for him.
That’s when it dawned on her who they were. “Oh, Vinnie!” She turned to Irish. “He’s the one you were telling me about, right? The one who could get your career going again?”
Irish shook his head, but he didn’t get a word in edgewise. Whereas Vinnie was apparently the strong and silent type, Sully was obviously very used to directing conversations.
“You must mean Victor, am I right? He’s the manager on all the fighters’ radars these days.”
Victor! Victor…Victorrrrrrr…Macknis? Manis? Something like that. God, she was terrible with names. At least she’d remembered it started with a V. “Yes, that’s who I meant, I’m sorry.”
Sully waved his hand dismissively. “No apology necessary. We actually work for Victor. Didn’t he call and tell you we’d be coming?”
“No,” Irish said. “Must have slipped his mind.”
“Well, no matter. We’re here and we’d like to discuss some business options with you.”
Irish narrowed his eyes almost imperceptibly but inclined his head in agreement. “Syd, take my pack and put it in my locker for me when you go in, will you?”
Pulling him toward her, she spoke quietly enough so only Irish could hear. “But I want to hear what they have to say.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble with Lou and I need you to ask Johnny to cover for me for a few minutes.” She opened up her mouth to argue, but he didn’t let her get that far. “Please, sweetheart, go inside. I’ll give you the highlights later, okay?”
Kat released a dejected sigh. “Yeah, okay.” Not only did she want to hear what the agents had to say, but she also thought it would be better if she stuck around to make sure Irish didn’t sell himself short to potential investors in his career. She didn’t think he’d totally bought in to the idea of getting back in the cage professionally, and she wouldn’t put it past him to subconsciously sabotage any second chances tossed his way.
“You know,” she said to them, “he’s been training really hard since entering the tournament and he’s only going to get better. I know Victor wouldn’t regret investing in him. Anyone who watches him fight can see he’s a born champion.”
Sully slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels. “Oh, I know. I saw him last Saturday. He fought like his life depended on it.”
Vinnie the Silent cracked a smile and eyed Irish. “Or like someone’s did, anyway.”
Taking her hand, Irish led her to the back door to the bar and opened it for her. “Thanks for the endorsement.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
He looked down at her, the corners of his mouth tipping up just a bit. “I know.”
Kat placed a hand on his chest for balance and raised on her tiptoes. Pressing her lips to his, she hoped the kiss would infuse him with some of the confidence she had in his abilities. She pulled back, whispered a quick “good luck,” then walked into the back area of the bar.
The haze of cigarette smoke hung like a veil in the hall, stirring above her as she passed through it. She heard Lou talking to the bartenders in the main room so she slipped into his office. After hanging her purse in a locker, she unzipped Irish’s pack to get out the comm-link he used to speak with the other coolers. Just as she was hanging his pack on the hook, his cell phone started to ring.
Did he usually carry his phone with him while he worked? Kat chewed on the corner of her lip and waffled on whether to get it or not. The call went to voice mail, so she decided to take it to him so he could see if it was anyone he needed to speak with. As she pulled it out, she glanced at the lit screen. It read “Missed call from V. Maris.”
“Maris?” Why did that name sound so familiar to her? She ran it through her head over and over, waiting for something to click. “V. Maris. Victor Maris?” Oh, shit, it’s the manager! Now she knew he needed his phone. Victor probably wanted to hear what Irish thought about whatever his guys were telling him.
She palmed the cell, shut the locker, and turned to leave the office-slash-break-room when the phone rang again with the same Caller ID. Damn, she thought, it must be important for him to call again so soon. She’d answer it, explain that Irish was still outside speaking with Sully, and that she’d make sure he called as soon as they were done.
“Hello, Irish O’Brien’s phone.”
Silence.
“Hello?” she tried again. “Mr. Maris?”
“Kitty Kat? Is that you?”
Kat forgot to breathe and had to steady herself with a hand on the wall. She didn’t understand. Couldn’t make the pieces fit to make sense. Why would her sister be on the other end of the line? Why would her sister have Irish’s cell phone number?
“Kat, if that’s you, please talk to me.”
The woman’s voice was tinny through the miniscule speaker, but it was most definitely Nessie. Kat had listened to that voice in hundreds of voice messages and a handful of calls over the years.
Unable to do anything else, she ended the call and stared at the phone. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there—a minute, an hour—but as soon as the shock wore off, Kat stalked back down the hall toward the back door.
Betrayal slithered through her mind, making her skin crawl, as she realized that somehow she’d been deceived by the only man she’d ever trusted. Throwing the door open, she stepped into the oppressive heat of the night. Irish ro
unded the corner and came toward her.
“Kat, what are you—”
She held up his phone. “Why in the hell is my sister calling your phone? Fuck that. How is she calling your phone?”
His face fell. “Let me explain.”
“That’s a great fucking idea,” she said, her words sharp as knives. “Why don’t you start with how you know her and why she’s in your phone as V. Maris.”
“I don’t know her.” The lie had her drawing her arm back to throw his phone at him, but he held his hands up. “I mean, not really! I’m friends with her fiancé, Jackson Maris.”
She lowered her throwing arm and let that sink in. That’s why that name had sounded familiar to her. It was soon to be her sister’s last name. “You know Jackson?”
“Yeah. Years ago he came out to my training camp in Boston for about six months and we hit it off. He helped me out one time, so I felt like I owed him a favor.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and acid threatened the back of her throat. “And this favor has to do with me how exactly?”
He shoved his fingers through his hair and shifted his weight as he looked around aimlessly before returning his focus to her. “Look, why don’t we ditch our shifts and go somewhere to talk about this.”
“No, I want to know right now. What the hell is going on?”
“Your sister was going crazy with worry over you after you took off in Tennessee.” Kat drew in a sharp inhale. The fact he knew about what happened in Tennessee meant he’d probably known about her situation with Sicoli before she ever said anything to him. “She hired a private investigator to find you, but she wanted to know more than just where you were, Kat. She needed to know how you were and if you needed help.”