Rory knew she didn’t like dogs much, but she was always friendly to his dog anyway. He gave her a warm smile at the gesture as Ace made his way underneath the table and sat waiting for someone to drop a scrap of food. Inevitably, Dee always would sneak him something, even though she denied it.
“What are you worried about studying for?” Quinn scoffed at her, shoving a buttered roll into his mouth.
“Seriously, Casey,” Rory joined the conversation, “you get better grades than any of us ever did.”
Casey smiled warmly at Rory, who had taken the chair next to hers, gently squeezing her shoulder as he sat. She had long ago carved a special place in his heart, given that he was the oldest and she the youngest. He felt the need to take care of her, especially after her family had died and left her all alone in the world. He had been there for her during the worst moment of her life, and since then their bond had become impenetrable.
“That’s because she actually puts some effort into her work. If any of you jokers had tried studying as often as she does, I wouldn’t have wasted thousands of dollars on your tuitions. Might as well have just written a check to the shitty nightclubs by the school instead.” Seamus glared at them.
“Rory got his degree in fucking, fighting, and partying.” Kane laughed, but admiration was in his tone.
“Kane’s jealous,” Quinn snorted as Rory flashed him a mischievous smile.
“I feel like I’m missing a story here,” Casey questioned.
“Just that they need to learn to stop using their fists everywhere but the damn ring. Now, which one of you kids wants to say grace?” Seamus not-so-subtly changed the topic away from Rory’s scuffle last night at O’Leary’s.
Rory and his brothers were used to their father’s hostility and knew all too well that it was mostly for show, hiding the caring, loving father underneath. Everyone ducked their heads and avoided eye contact, hoping not to be picked to lead the prayer.
Dee pressed her hands together, bowing her head. “Bless us, O Lord, for these thy gifts that we are about to receive, from thy bounty, through Christ Our Lord, Amen.” She spoke solemnly and quickly, ending with making the sign of the cross over her chest.
Quinn smirked at Rory, who had no idea why their mother kept trying to pretend they were the perfect Irish Catholic family. No one at the table, not even his mother, had a spotless record. They were a Christmas-and-Easter kind of family, and always would be.
“So, Rory, are you dating anyone?” Dee asked out of nowhere. Rory coughed into his spoonful of potatoes in surprise.
“Ma, come on, can I get one week without those questions?” he griped as his brothers smirked at him.
“An té nach bpósann níl ach uaigneas dilte dósan, Rory,” Dee told him. “I just don’t want you to end up alone. I want a daughter-in-law, and grandkids!”
Rory rolled his eyes, having heard his mother tell him a million times that a man who does not marry will be lonely. It was an old Irish saying that he was more than a little tired of. He was only twenty-seven, and a lot less worried about it than his mother was.
“Yeah, Rory, you wouldn’t want to be lonely,” Quinn teased.
“Hey, you’re four years behind him, but you need to start thinking about finding a wife soon, too.” Dee turned her attention to Quinn.
Rory groaned. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”
“Kane has started training at Legends, Rory.” Seamus volunteered a new topic, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
“Trying for regional this spring?” Rory asked, noticing that Kane had become a lot more muscular recently. He wondered why he hadn’t seen that last night at O’Leary’s.
“That’s the goal. Follow in your footsteps.” Kane inspected his brother, a hopeful beg for acceptance on his face.
Rory nodded, noting the expression, but keeping his features flat. He loved his brothers and wanted them to succeed, but nothing about the world of MMA fighting was appealing to him anymore. At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself.
“I think it would be good if you started training him, Rory. He needs professional coaching. He has the power, but not the knowledge.” Seamus spoke as if Kane wasn’t even there.
Rory avoided looking at his father and noticed Quinn glancing between them, obviously feeling the tension in the air. Anytime fighting came up in the last year, things turned awkward. No one ever wanted to directly call Rory on his injury, yet he could tell everyone was thinking about it.
“My leg still hurts.” His only response as he turned his attention back to his plate, piling corn onto his fork.
Concern etched his mother’s face. “Still? Have you been back to the doctor?”
“Nothing they can do.” He stood and took his glass back over to the liquor cabinet for a refill.
“Bullshit,” Seamus said. “It’s been a year; you did ten months of physical therapy. I’m not asking you to get back in the cage, just to train your brother.”
“Pop, I’ll be fine. There are plenty of fighters at Legends that can train me,” Kane offered, making Rory glad to have any interruption that might divert attention from him. Seamus ignored his son’s remark and continued to stare at Rory.
“I just want you to get back to doing what you loved, son. I’m not trying to be a hard-ass, but your mother and I worry. You’re out getting in bar fights, drinking your weight in whiskey.” Seamus’s tone softened. “What are we supposed to think?”
Rory exhaled loudly as he took in everyone around the table, each person’s worry tearing through him like a knife. He could feel the pity, the one thing he hated more than all else.
They wanted him to be the confident fighter he used to be. The Rory whom they could handle and understand, not the quiet drunk who rarely came around anymore. He frowned, knowing he might never be able to give them what they wanted.
He wasn’t even sure that he ever wanted to be the Rory he once was again, but he knew he owed it to his family to at least try. Kavanaghs took care of one another, and he had a duty to do the same for Kane.
“Fine, be at the club by seven tomorrow.” Rory pointed at Kane, who nodded excitedly. “Now, can we please get back to this delicious meal Ma made?”
The tension deflated from the room and smiles were passed around along with gossip and news of the week. Rory watched them, pretending to be interested in the conversations that were overlapping one another.
Giving up, he stood and went for his third refill of whiskey in the kitchen, discreetly swallowing a few pills with it when he was out of eyesight. Ace had trotted after him and made a low moaning sound when he saw Rory’s pill bottle, but Rory shot him a warning look that caused the dog to quiet down. As the liquid filled his stomach, the anxiety Rory had been feeling melted away, replaced by the warm, soothing sensation he loved.
Chapter 3
Rory slammed his fist down on his alarm clock with such resentment that it went flying off the nightstand, crashing loudly against the wooden floor. He groaned and rolled over, annoyed that the fall still hadn’t stopped the devil machine from screeching at him.
He slid his legs off the side of the bed and reached over to the wall, yanking the chord right out of its plug. Silence finally greeted him as he yawned and considered the sharp, early-morning sun peering through his window. It had been a while since he had been up this early.
Opening his nightstand drawer, he pulled out one of the many bottles of pills he had stashed everywhere and downed several capsules, using a glass of water from the nightstand this time. He felt the bed shift behind him and turned his head to see a somewhat attractive brunette asleep and sprawled across half of the bed. One leg was below the sheets while the other was on top, making it pretty clear she was fully nude.
Standing, Rory pulled on some boxers he found on the floor and a pair of sweatpants hanging on the back of a chair. His dog stretched as he rose from the small, round dog bed in the corner of the room. Rory found a dress an
d a bra at the end of the bed and shuffled over to where the woman was sleeping, tapping her shoulder gently to wake her up. She startled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she yawned and sat up.
“It’s early, Rory, come back to bed,” she purred seductively, letting her forearms push her breasts together for his viewing pleasure.
“Can’t, Molly. Have to head to the club.” He handed her the clothes, giving her chin a tiny squeeze of affection.
He hoped to see something in her eyes that pulled at him, anything that could make him feel the things he knew he was supposed to feel for a woman he spent the night with. But nothing came.
He was empty.
He turned away and headed to the kitchen with Ace right on his heels, feeling Molly’s eyes boring a hole through him. He knew he was disappointing her just as much as he was everyone else in his life. Molly was always there anytime he called, both of them needing some companionship.
Lifting the lid from a large container of dog food next to the kitchen counter, Rory scooped out enough for Ace, dumping it in his bowl. The dog quickly pounced on the food, loudly smacking his lips with his face plunged into the metal bowl. Rory smiled in amusement before he began preparing his own breakfast.
Despite any misgivings Rory had about his life, Ace was one of the bright parts of it. He had rescued the dog from a shelter over in Queens the day before he would’ve been euthanized. The shelter had a policy of putting down any dogs considered aggressive, and Ace’s background fit that category.
Rory knew that the hulking black-and-white mutt just needed some love and attention, so he intervened and brought him home. A local rescue in Woodlawn that focused on ex–fighter dogs helped him rehabilitate Ace. Ace had been shy and quiet at first, afraid that every new person would be as cruel as his previous master. As time went on, Rory convinced Ace otherwise and the dog became fiercely loyal to him, as well as much more affectionate.
In his sink, Rory found a bowl that wasn’t completely dirty and rinsed it out, then proceeded to fill it with some bran cereal and milk. Leaning against the counter, he scooped the first bite into his mouth just as his overnight guest slowly found her way out of the bedroom. She was now fully clothed, albeit slightly wrinkled.
“What?” he questioned between bites, wondering why she was just standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, giving him a sad look.
“Is this it?” she spoke softly, her voice full of sorrow.
Rory was silent. He wanted to say something, anything, but everything went blank. He couldn’t tell her what he knew she wanted to hear. What every woman who passed through his doors wanted. Something that he didn’t have to give anyone anymore.
He had been in relationships before, but he had wanted to concentrate on his career as a fighter. He wanted to become someone worthy of a great woman, like his father had become for his mother. Bedtime stories often centered around the story of a famous boxer who caught the eye of the daughter of a prominent Irish family. His father had earned his spot working for his future father-in-law, earned his way into his mother’s heart, and earned the wealthy lifestyle and success he had achieved.
Rory wasn’t his father; he was a failure.
He had earned nothing.
Molly stalked past him to the front door, her face twisted up in pain. She stopped for only a second to reach down and pet Ace, but quickly decided against it when the dog barked at her. Rory snapped his fingers, commanding Ace to back down.
Rory knew Ace wasn’t aggressive, but he didn’t warm up to anyone except Rory and his parents. He liked Casey a bit, but didn’t even let Rory’s brothers pet him. Ace’s sheer size made people nervous when he made any sort of sound, though.
Molly huffed at the beast, crossing the last few feet to the front door before pausing to turn back to him.
“One day, some woman’s going to change your mind. I just wish it could’ve been me.” Her words were almost whispered, but he heard them as if she were shouting at him.
The door closed with a thud, and Rory turned back to the sink to deposit his empty bowl. Surprising himself, he found Clare’s face crossing his mind. Just as quickly as it entered, he brushed her image away.
He knew who he was, and he wasn’t worthy of a woman like Clare.
—
Never one to be late, Clare waltzed into Legends exactly fifteen minutes before class on Monday morning. She was wearing a brand-new outfit she had purchased yesterday for the occasion, eager to treat herself to something nice for once. She headed past the counter, which was currently unmanned, and wondered where Casey was, before continuing to the locker room.
Quickly putting her things away in a locker, she straightened the light gold spandex tank top that hugged her torso, topping black yoga pants that stopped right before her ankles. Similarly, the stretchy pants accented her curves without showing too much skin. Despite the cold weather outside, the gym itself was warm enough to wear lighter gear. She laced up her sneakers and then headed out into the big open room of the gym, turning right to head toward the back where the classrooms were.
Despite the early-morning hour, almost all of the rings were occupied with fighters, and the deafening sound of weights dropping sang all around her. Reaching the classroom, she found Casey stretching and chatting with several other women who were of varying ages. When Casey saw Clare come in, she waved and quickly excused herself, jogging over to her.
“You made it!” the perky redhead exclaimed, wrapping her in a quick hug that immediately caught Clare off guard. She wasn’t used to affection, or friends.
“We’re about to start—find a spot near the front so you don’t miss anything.” Casey smiled at her before prancing away, seemingly oblivious to Clare’s discomfort.
“Okay” was all she managed to squeak out as nerves began to get the better of her.
“Let’s get started, class!” Casey shouted with more energy than any one person should possess on a Monday morning, and began leading the class through different exercises to warm them up.
An hour later, Clare had worked up a pretty good sweat and learned a technique that involved freeing her wrist from an attacker by forcing his arm backward in such a way that he’d be unable to keep her wrist captive. Even though she had ignored Casey’s initial advice and stayed in the back of the room, she still left smiling and feeling more in control, maybe even powerful.
She smiled to herself as she thought about that, knowing that the last few years of her life had been colored in fear, thanks to her ex-boyfriend Travis Creighton. Today had given her a glimpse into a future where maybe she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. There had been countless times that he had held her prisoner by her wrists and left bruises she would try to cover with long-sleeved shirts. She knew that she hadn’t been fooling anyone with that disguise, and in only one class, she had already learned a way to never fall prey to that again.
Every new day here in Woodlawn, she felt like she was becoming someone different. Or maybe she was just finally being who she wanted to be, instead of who she had been told to be. She had spent so many years being told she was incompetent, stupid, and incapable of living without Travis that she had begun to believe it. With each new thing she learned, even something as small as breaking out of a wrist hold, she could feel herself taking back control of her life, and she loved it.
“Whoa, watch where you’re going,” a gruff voice spoke, and a hand suddenly gripped her wrist as she paraded directly into a brick wall.
At least it felt like a brick wall.
Shocked, her mouth parted slightly, she stared up into shining silver eyes that she recognized as belonging to Rory Kavanagh. Blushing, she stepped back, but he still held her wrist in his large hand.
She wondered why it didn’t frighten her for Rory to be holding her in the same way she had just practiced defending herself against, and particularly after she had just been thinking of Travis.
“Clare,” he acknowledged before she could respond.
“Oh, hi,” she awkwardly stammered as he released her, and she wrapped one arm around her waist, as if to hug herself.
“If you wanted to see me again, you could have just asked for my number the other night.” A cocky smile spread from ear to ear above his scruffy short beard.
“I figured stalking you and then plowing right into your chest would be a more memorable experience.” Clare grinned, still blushing as she tried her best to force away her nerves.
Rory gaped in surprise for a second, then burst out laughing. Her anxieties eased as her body relaxed in response to his raucous laughter. Ace, Rory’s dog, was standing at attention beside him, his eyes boring holes through her. Stretching out one hand toward the dog, she offered Ace the back of her hand to sniff. Reluctantly he did so while Rory watched the two of them.
“Careful, he doesn’t like people much.” Rory put his hand up to stop her, but she just pushed him away.
“Nonsense, all dogs love me. All dogs love anyone if you just show them respect,” she countered, waiting for Ace to finish his assessment of her hand and give her permission to pet him.
The dog peered up at her and began wagging his tail, which made Clare smile as she turned her hand and scratched behind his ear. Ace leaned his head into her hand as Rory scrutinized them, stunned.
“Great, now I’m jealous of my own dog.”
“God, Rory, you are seriously losing your touch. That was the lamest pickup line I’ve ever heard.” Casey made a sudden appearance between them.
“How do you know? I haven’t seen you on a date in years, Case,” he jested, using her nickname.
“Just because you haven’t seen me on one doesn’t mean I’ve been celibate, dear cousin,” Casey tossed back, her hands on her hips.
“What are you even doing bothering my student?” she continued, which caused Rory to pivot between the two women in confusion.
Clare snickered at the interaction between the two. “I’m taking her class, Rory.”
“The self-defense one?” he asked, and she nodded in response as Casey grabbed her hand and started pulling her to the locker room.