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 rounded 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.”
“I didn’t involve her on purpose!” Fear gripped Kat at the thought of what could happen to her sister if Sicoli wanted to use Vanessa as leverage. “I didn’t want her getting mixed up in all the shit I was in.”
“I know and I get it, believe me. But if I thought for one second that Colleen or Mary Catherine were in trouble, I’d stop at nothing to do whatever I could to help whether they wanted it or not. Your sister’s no different.”
“It doesn’t give her the right to send in some total stranger to spy on me. And repaying a favor certainly doesn’t give you the right to inject yourself into my life under false pretenses.” The hot sting of unbidden tears blurred her vision, but she straightened her spine and willed them not to fall. She refused to let him see how defeated she felt inside. “I knew you had secrets, but I hoped you’d open up to me in time, like I did with you. I never dreamed you kept things from me because they were about me.”
She shook her head, still unable to believe the truth. Or unwilling. “I finally felt I could trust someone. I thought I could trust you, Aiden.” She scoffed and tacked on, “If that’s even your real name. Was any of it ever real?”
“Kat, please just listen—”
“No,” she forced out while taking a step backward. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does anymore.”
Retracing her steps, she slipped into the bar again, intent on retrieving her purse and telling Lou she’d gotten sick in the bathroom so he’d send her home. Despite his own lack of hygiene, he was a stickler about his employees not spreading germs. If a flu epidemic went around, there’d be no one to serve beer and stale pretzels to the fine folk of Alabaster for a week.
Her original plan of packing up and leaving Louisiana behind sprouted again in her head. She’d give it serious thought tomorrow. All she wanted to do tonight was go home, have herself a good cry, and find solace in the only male guaranteed to never betray her: Murphy the Cat.
…
An all-out riot could have broken out at the bar that night and Aiden wouldn’t have noticed without the other cooler telling him about it over their comm-link.
It was a typical Friday night. The people were packed in like sardines, the juke pumped out one deafening song after another, and the flow of alcohol was constant. But the only things Aiden saw and heard were the betrayal in Kat’s eyes and the hurt in her voice. They played on a constant loop in his head like a form of psychological Chinese torture. Then every once in a while, Sully’s opening line to him filtered through to add the icing on his shit cake.
“It’s time we play by my rules, kid.”
He trusted Sully and Vinnie even less now than he had before. Their impromptu visit to Lou’s earlier had almost caused him to snap. The only thing that kept him in check was Kat’s presence and not wanting to tip her off as to who they really were.
Once she’d finally gone inside, though, he’d gotten in their faces and demanded to know what the fuck they were doing there. When he’d ducked them back at the fight last Saturday he had a feeling he’d be seeing them again, but he figured they’d wait to corner him at the tournament, not stroll up to him in the parking lot at Lou’s. Whatever they wanted, he knew it couldn’t be good.
He’d been right.
Turned out Vinnie was a bit of an MMA buff, which was why he thought he recognized Aiden in Kat’s apartment that first night. Once he saw his tattoos, namely the one of his last name, and the way he fought, Vinnie’s memory had been sufficiently jogged. Sully, brilliant bad guy that he was, came up with a genius plan to make a shit ton of money…by gambling on Aiden’s next opponent and having Aiden take the fall.
The blackmailing bastards had been busy all week putting bugs in people’s ears about who Aiden was and his record back in his fighting days. If things panned out the way they hoped, the majority of the crowd tomorrow night would be betting on Aiden to win and anyone who still wasn’t sure would have time to change their minds when they saw Aiden lead in points in the first two rounds. The more people that bet on him to win, the bigger the odds. So anyone who bets on him to lose will rake in the dough.
Though he wasn’t planning on this tournament re-launching his career, the idea of losing at all, much less on purpose, grated on him. But he hadn’t even given it a second thought. He agreed to go down in the third round like they wanted. Anything to prevent Sicoli from tossing Kat into a hell she already survived. She might hate him at this point, but that didn’t change his stance on helping her. Nothing would.
As she’d driven away earlier, his instincts pushed for him to go after her. To make sure she got home okay at the very least. If he allowed himself the luxury of wishful thinking, he’d go fix things between them and tell her how he truly felt about her.
But he couldn’t. It would only string her along even further when he knew he couldn’t trust himself not to hurt her worse in the future.
I knew you had secrets… I thought I could trust you, Aiden. If that’s even your real name.
Godammit! Aiden slammed his fist on the bar, the vibration like pins shooting up his arm. He couldn’t leave things like that. The thought of her believing that everything between them had been a lie gnawed at him. Just because he couldn’t offer her more didn’t mean that what they’d already shared hadn’t been real. He had to talk to her.
“Anders,” he called through his comm to the other cooler, “something’s come up. I gotta go.”
“The Barrow brothers just walked in looking drunk and ornery. What am I supposed to do if a riot breaks out?”
Aiden was already pushing through the back door. He strode toward his bike while digging the keys out of his pocket. “Other than keeping the employees safe and out of the way, let them burn the place down if they want, Johnny. Lou’s got insurance.”
Pulling the link from his ear, he threw his leg over and had the engine revving in seconds flat. Breaking several traffic laws on the way over, he made it to Kat’s apartment in record time. He parked on the street and made his way toward the alley that cut between the buildings. As he passed the voodoo shop, the mannequin in the window caught his eye and stopped him. It looked so much like Kat it could have been her doppelgänger. That’s when he saw the necklace displayed around its neck. The piece was earthy with elements that reminded him so much of Kat it seemed designed especially for her.
When he stepped in to get a closer look, a neon sign that read open sputtered on and the sound of the lock clicking preceded the jangling of bells as a woman in gypsy garb pushed the door open. “Well, don’t just stand there. You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?”
She didn’t wait for a response to her cryptic greeting before retreating into the shop. Without knowing why, he followed her.
Five minutes later he jogged up the poorly lit stairwell of Kat’s apartment with a small velvet pouch tucked into his pocket. Eager to see her, he rapped on her door, ignoring the pain from his bruised knuckles. He waited several seconds then tried pounding a few times with the side of his fist. She wasn’t answering, but he knew she was home. He’d seen her car in the back.
“Kat, open up. We need to talk.”
Nothing. Not even a “go away” or “fuck off.” He’d rather have her anger than silence. He knew how to deal with anger, how to combat it, defend against it. But this was a whole different animal. Did she hate him? Regret ever being with him? The very thought twisted his gut until he actually grabbed his stomach. Say something, asshole. Fix this.
“Kat, I’m so fucking sorry.” He rested his forehead against the door and hoped like hell she could hear him. “I should have told you the truth last week. Or maybe even sooner, I don’t know. But I was afraid you wouldn’t let me get within fifty yards if you knew and something in me couldn’t let that happen.
“I tried telling myself it was because I agreed to check on you. Because I was repaying a debt to my friend. But deep down I knew that was bullshit.” Aiden pushed out an exasperated breath as he lifted his face to the ceiling. “You became an addiction. I kept time based on how many hours I got to see you in a day, how many more until I could see you the next. I fantasized about laying you down on the bar, kissing every inch of your body, and burying myself inside you until you forgot every man but me.”
Aiden pressed his hand to the door and imagined her doing the same on the other side, imagined he could feel the warmth of her palm spreading through his. “Then when I finally got to kiss you… God, I think I lost myself to you right then and there. I never expected to feel so much. A big part of me died a long time ago, but one kiss from you and it started coming back.”
The silence pressed in on him. Though she still hadn’t said anything, he was certain she stood just on the other side of the door. He could feel her there as sure as he felt the wood that separated them. Curling his hand into a fist, he barely stopped himself from punching the barrier in frustration. Instead, he rolled away from it and let his head drop back against the wall. He suddenly felt heavy, weighted down by the lies and untruths and his inability to get through to the woman he cared about more than he knew what to do with. Sliding down, Aiden sat on the dirty cement and rested his arms on bent knees.
“All I wanted to do was help you move on to a better life,” he said to the emptiness surrounding him. “I never planned on falling for you. But I did. Hard.”
He heard a soft mewling and glanced over to see a gray paw stretched out in search of something. Cold air and a shaft of light leaked from where the towel must have been pulled away by the kitten’s curiosity. Lowering his arm, he stroked the furry leg with his index finger until the little paw grabbed hold of it as best he could.
“Hey there, Murph. Guess I fucked up pretty bad, huh?”
A string of meows and flexing of toes answered him. As though the animal had actually confirmed his fears, Aiden’s stomach dropped.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he said, trying to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. “I shoulda let Xander take point on the rescue mission and stayed out of it. I knew better than to let her get mixed up with me, but damn. Every time she looked at me I forgot all the reasons I was no good for her.” The kitten pawed at his hand. Maybe in consolation. Maybe in agreement. “Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Those baby blues probably do a number on you, too.”
Thinking of her crystalline eyes reminded him of the necklace he’d bought at the strange shop downstairs. He dug the pouch out of his pocket and slid it to the curious kitten’s paw.
“Hey, Murph, do me a solid and give this to her, will ya? I don’t know if she’ll like it, but it reminded me of her.” As expected, Murphy pulled it to him under the door. “Now don’t go carrying that off and hiding it. It’s not for you, fur ball. Sorry, the voodoo lady was fresh outta catnip.”
Aiden pushed himself off the wall and started to stand, but he stayed crouched when Murphy’s paw sought him out yet again. As fond as he was of the kitten, he wished it were Kat doing the reaching instead. No you don’t. It’s better she hate you and move on than be with you and get hurt.
Unable to resist, he let the kitten grab onto his finger one last time. “You’re not making this very easy, little buddy,” he forced out, his voice so gravelly he didn’t even recognize it. “I wish to Christ I could be the kind of man she needs. But I’m not. I’m just a broken-down fighter who ends up hurting the people closest to me, and she deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”
He finally let go of the tiny paw and stood up. His eyes burned and started to water until he blinked hard a few times to bring the dingy stairwell back into focus. “’Bye, Murph. I’m taking off after tomorrow’s fight. Take good care of her for me.”
Frustrated meows accompanied the sounds of Murphy pawing at the door. Before he could say to hell with it and beg her to let him in, Aiden spun on his heel and jogged down the stairs. Just before he pushed through to the alley, the faint echo of a woman’s cry pierced the last remaining piece of his heart.
…
Tears streamed down Kat’s face as she continued to sit on the floor, her brain too numb to tell her muscles to move. Listening to Irish through her door had been heartrending and yet she hadn’t been able to let him in. She wanted to forgive him and jump into his strong arms the moment he knocked. But that’s what had her so scared. If she overlooked that today, what would she be overlooking tomorrow?
She sniffed hard and used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. Her throat had closed up a long time ago from crying, but watching her cat continue to try and get out to be with Irish was only making it hurt worse.
“Murphy, knock it off,” she rasped. “He’s gone.”
He’s gone.
The words began to sink in, their meaning finally taking hold. Oh, God, he’s gone.
When she’d left Lou’s earlier, she’d been hurt and pissed as hell. She hadn’t wanted to see or speak to him and fully prepared herself for an Irish Hiatus until she’d worked through the feelings of betrayal and broken trust. But now, faced with the thought of never seeing him again, of never again knowing his touch or the love they’d shared—
Kat’s breath caught in her chest. Love… Was it really love or was she projecting her girlish dreams of someday finding such a thing onto the first guy who treated her well?
Murphy finally abandoned his futile attempts at escape. He rubbed against her legs before laying down by her feet, his head resting on his little paws. That’s when Kat noticed the deep blue velvet pouch with Chasing the Moon Creations written in gold script. It took her a moment to realize it was the name of the eccentric store across the alley from the tattoo shop.
She looked at her gray-striped kitten who’d become the best listener when she needed someone to talk to. “He bought me something. Lenny never gave me anything, not even when we first started dating.”
Murphy sat up and stared at her expectantly, flipping the end of his tail. With shaking hands, she opened the pouch and withdrew a small card that read, Symbols of the Blue Topaz: loyalty, honesty, clarity of feelings, eternal romance, and love.
It couldn’t have touched her more than if it had been from Hallmark. Whatever else was in the pouch, she knew Irish hadn’t chosen it blindly. She turned the pouch in her palm and marveled at the necklace.
An antique brass chain held a matching brass crescent moon charm with a crystal bead that reminded her of a bright star. Behind that, a wire-wrapped crystal drop of blue topaz hung at the end of a few inches of chain. In fact, the chain looked to be just the right length to…
Eager to find out, Kat stood and crossed to the bathroom. After clasping the necklace and centering it on her chest, she gazed at her reflection and got choked up all over again. The moon charm lay between her collarbones and the blue topaz just above her cleavage. Which meant the chain holding the stone hid—or at the very least distracted from—the scar she hated so much.
The necklace was perfect. Irish was perfect. Perfect for her. Of course what they’d shared was love. Why wouldn’t she love him? From the moment he stepped foot in this Podunk town he’d done nothing but look after her, regardless of the original reason. When he learned a big-time mob boss had it out for her, he didn’t call it quits. He insisted on helping her and then somehow managed to do so when he very well could’ve gotten himself killed.
But even more than all that, he’d taken care of her emotionally. It was like he’d plugged into her and sensed when she needed him to slow down or just hold her. When she needed to talk about things, even when she thought she couldn’t. She’d shared pieces of herself with him she’d never given anyone and couldn’t imagine ever giving anyone again. Looking back on the last couple of weeks, Kat realized the only times she felt truly happy and at peace were when she was with Irish. Whether they were making love or watching bad reality TV. All that mattered was that she was with him.
She did love him. And hadn’t he admitted to pretty much the same?
I never planned on falling for you, but I did. Hard.
Yeah, he loved her, even if he hadn’t said the words. But instead of staying and working things out, he planned on leaving. Because why? He didn’t think he was good enough for her. Kat fisted her hands until her nails dug into her palms. Agitation had her stalking back and forth in her tiny apartment while Murphy watched like he was at a tennis match.
“How dare he make the decision to leave based on the assumption he’s not good enough for me,” she spit out. “Don’t I get a fucking say in this?”
Murphy let out a meow, which she took as support to her argument. “Exactly! He’s being bull-headed and such a…a…” She stopped and waved her hands in the air. “Man!”
Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the night, she plopped down onto her futon. Murphy ran over and jumped into her lap to rub his head against her face in his favorite form of affection. As she stroked his soft fur, she thought about what she should do. She was tired of men deciding her fate. And even though Irish was the first to do it with good intentions, it didn’t matter. The days of her succumbing to what others wanted from or for her were over.
Kat picked up the kitten under his front legs and held him in front of her face. “Tomorrow night, Murphy, I’m going to fight for what I want. And what I want is Aiden ‘Irish’ O’Brien. Forever.”