Chapter 2

“I really appreciate it, but you don’t have to give it to me for free,” Clare’s brow furrowed as she took the membership card from the spunky redhead.

“Oh, please, girl. I used to work busing tables at O’Leary’s Pub when I was in high school. Is Cian still in charge over there?” She smiled back as she continued putting Clare’s information into the gym’s computer system.

“Yeah, he’s my supervisor.” Clare nodded at the woman, slightly mesmerized by how piercing and blue her eyes were in contrast to the bright red wavy hair that flowed down most of her back.

“Then believe me, these self-defense classes can be written off as a work expense on next year’s taxes.” Both women snickered. Clare leaned against the counter, enjoying the interaction, since she hadn’t made any friends around her age in the three weeks she had lived here. Clare felt a pang of regret slice through her as she wished that an irritating boss was the only reason she needed self-defense classes.

“I’m Casey Kavanagh, by the way.” The redhead reached out her hand to Clare, who accepted it happily.

“Clare—well, I guess you already know that.” Clare pointed toward the driver’s license that Casey was still holding. Casey just smirked and waved her hand nonchalantly.

“So—Kavanagh? You’re part of the family who owns this place?” Clare tried not to sound like she was prying, but she was curious. She’d heard that name all over town since she got here.

“Yeah, my uncle owns it. Started it up back in the late seventies. It’s been remodeled lately, but we definitely still have the old-school reputation.”

“Oh.” Clare nodded, not sure what that meant or what to say.

“Here, you can have this back. I think I have everything in here now.” Casey handed her the license. “The thirty-day trial membership begins today, and then we can talk about different types of plans after you’ve had a chance to try out our various amenities and classes.”

“Thanks. Do you think I could have a peek around? See where the locker rooms are and stuff like that?” Clare tucked her driver’s license back into her wallet along with the new membership card, then stuffed the wallet into the small brown purse that was slung over her shoulder.

“Hell, yeah! Come on, let me give you a tour. Welcome—officially, this time—to Legends!” Casey popped out from around the back of the counter, motioning for her to follow.

Clare watched the bouncy, energetic woman in amusement as she followed her, feeling slightly overdressed in her knee-length red dress and thigh-high black boots, compared to Casey’s black yoga pants and neon-green long-sleeved tee.

“Okay, so here are the locker rooms. Men over there, women right here.” Casey started to point toward various doors they passed as the hallway opened up into a large room with an open floor plan.

“The entire far side of the room is pretty much for the fighters, not really anything but testosterone and ball sweat over there.” Casey slid her arm around Clare’s elbow to pull her along.

Clare giggled at Casey’s remarks and took in the view of dozens of men on weight-lifting machines, standing in front of weight benches, and in the rings. She had to agree, there was definitely a lot of testosterone in here.

“But over here is where things are a bit less noisy.” Casey led Clare to a side hall that opened into several small classrooms. A few of the rooms were filled with people doing group exercises; Clare recognized a yoga class and a spinning class.

“All the classrooms are walled in by windows, but the glass is so thick that you can’t hear all the noise from the rings.” Casey indicated an empty classroom that was at the back wall of the gym.

The door they entered through was set in a wall of all glass, just like the back wall of the room that gave them a view of the street. Clare strode toward the back wall, loving the openness and the view of pedestrians passing by.

“Yeah, that’s my favorite part, too,” Casey said.

“What, people watching?”

“Of course! People are weird, which is fun,” Casey quipped, joining her at the window as they stood side by side.

“See, there’s an example of weird right there.” Casey pointed at a behemoth of a man crouching on the sidewalk with a large dog next to him.

“That’s my cousin, Rory, but he’s more like a brother. He works here sometimes, used to be a fighter but got hurt in the championships last year. Almost couldn’t walk again since his leg pretty much split in two. A year later, not only is he walking, but there he is crouched down, feeding a damn street dog.”

Clare watched more closely, and now she noticed the second dog. In front of both the man and the larger dog beside him was a smaller, frail-looking pup. It couldn’t be more than twenty pounds, although it seemed like it should be much bigger. The dog’s ribs were poking out of its side as Casey’s cousin slowly fed him a sandwich. He was careful to hold his hand out flat and she could see his lips moving from his profile, realizing he was probably coaxing the dog to accept the food.

“I think that’s sweet. I was studying to be a vet before I moved here.” Clare’s voice was soft as she admired the man’s kindness toward the stray.

The man stood and stretched a bit, opening up the other half of a bagged sandwich and then settling himself on the curb by the thin dog, who seemed more trusting of him now. In his new position, Clare could see more of his face and she realized that it was the same burly yet handsome man she had flirted with at O’Leary’s last night.

Of course, that was before he had broken her boss’s nose.

She felt a stirring in her abdomen as she watched him, her mouth slightly parting. The brown pup cautiously took a few steps to him, then sat and placed his head in Rory’s lap. Clare felt a glow as her heart warmed at the sight.

“I’m so not an animal person, but Rory would help a goddamn rat if he found one. That bigger dog there is his shadow, Ace. Barely ever see the two of them apart.” Casey stepped away from the window.

Clare hesitated, watching Rory and Ace for a moment longer, then pulled herself away to go follow her new friend. It had been a while since she had thought about her previous career aspirations, and a wave of sadness passed over her as she thought of the different trajectory of her life now. Maybe now that she was starting over, she could go back to school, she found herself hoping.

“So I’m the one who teaches the self-defense classes, every weekday morning at nine. Don’t be late,” Casey instructed as she led her back through the gym toward the front.

Clare just nodded, not really listening. She was thinking about Rory, and wondering how the man who had broken her boss’s nose was also the man sitting on a curb sharing a sandwich with a starving dog.

“Clare?” Casey brought her back to attention.

“Oh, sorry. What?” Clare realized she had just missed everything the woman had been telling her.

“I said, do you want to see the ladies’ locker room?” The blue eyes stared back at her expectantly. Clare glanced over at the doors, but then shook her head.

“All right, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then? Mondays we usually have the biggest crowds.” Casey slipped behind the front counter.

“Sounds good to me.” Clare paused on her way to the door, stopping in front of a large wall of shelves filled with trophies, championship belts, and pictures.

“Oh, that’s my cousin’s glory wall. Kind of obnoxious, isn’t it?”

“Seems like he has a lot to be proud of.” Clare smiled. She loved Casey’s wit and sarcasm, and her affection for her cousin was obvious despite her teasing barbs.

Clare turned her smile back to the wall, noticing a large photograph of Rory holding a prize belt over his head as he stood in a ring, surrounded by crowds of people. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and droplets of blood slid from a laceration on his cheekbone.

He seemed completely unfazed by the injury. Even in a bruised state, his face shone with pride and a life that had been missing from both the man she met the other evening and the one she had just seen sitting outside. The man feeding the dogs had a hollow appearance compared to the energy and excitement from the man in this picture. It was hard to imagine all three men were the one and the same.

There must be a lot more to Rory Kavanagh than she had first assumed.

“You’re trying to put me in an early grave, aren’t you? What are you boys doing to me?” Deirdre Kavanagh dramatically threw her hands up in the air as she stormed across the kitchen to the liquor cabinet, her skin paler than normal under the dark red hair that fell to her shoulders.

Rory hid his smile as she stalked away from him and pried open the kitchen cabinet doors on the far wall, selecting a bottle of whiskey off the top shelf. She opened it, then grabbed a small glass out of a neighboring cabinet. Pouring about an inch of whiskey into the glass, she tossed the liquid back in a quick gulp. As she did this, a large black-and-white dog trotted across the kitchen and parked himself at her feet.

“This is not for you, Ace. Your owner is driving me to drink.” She patted the dog on the top of his head, then poured herself another inch before putting the bottle back into the cabinet, sighing deeply. Rory attempted to appear more remorseful, but was unsuccessful at hiding his grin.

“Ma, Cian had it coming,” Quinn chimed in to defend Rory, dropping a heavy hand on Rory’s muscular shoulder and taking a few gulps of his beer.

Their mother shot him a warning glare and pointed an accusatory finger at them both. Quinn ducked his head, sheepishly, as he rubbed his hand through his straight, black hair.

“Stay out of this, Quinny,” she lectured. He put up his hands in defense, quickly abandoning Rory in the kitchen with their mother.

“I took care of it, Ma. Don’t worry,” Jimmy told her. Walking in, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and she frowned apologetically at him, taking his face in her hands for a moment.

He was taller than his mother, broad and well built, even though he was nowhere near the athletic level of his brothers who frequented Legends. Being the lone redhead of the brothers, a trait he got from their mother, made him stick out like a sore thumb with his pale skin and freckled nose. Despite their Irish lineage, only Jimmy, Casey, and Deidre shared the ginger locks.

“Jimmy, you’re always taking care of the family,” she cooed at him. As she released him, he went and joined Quinn at the dining room table, finding a spot to sit among the seven settings that were carefully placed and surrounded by hot, delicious-smelling dishes.

“Rory, you’re going to get Jimmy in trouble one of these days.”

Rory just nodded, barely listening to his mother. He had long ago mastered the talent of staying silent, tuning out his family, and focusing on the calming sensation of the white pills, some of which he had taken just before arriving.

“In fact, the rest of you boys could learn a thing or two from your little brother. For God’s sake, I’m going to die before I reach forty at this rate.”

“Well, then, we should probably have already planned the funeral since forty was like fifteen years ago, Ma,” Kane joked under his breath to Quinn and Jimmy as he entered the dining room and joined them at the table. Rory had yet to join his brothers at the table, but was quick to join their convulsing laughter at Kane’s barb.

“Well, if you’re planning my funeral, make sure to note that I want my gravestone to say ‘world’s greatest mother to ungrateful sons,’ ” Dee huffed irritably.

“Ah, Ma, we’re just kidding,” Quinn assured her.

“So hilarious.”

“Show your mother some damn respect, boys.” A booming, deep voice thundered as their father, Seamus Kavanagh, entered the dining room followed by their cousin, Casey. Ace began wagging his tail from where he stood next to Dee. He rarely warmed up to anyone, but he had taken a liking to both of Rory’s parents over the years. Between the two of them and Rory and Casey, Ace’s list of people he liked was pretty short.

Seamus’s large frame dominated any room, even though his silver eyes were normally smiling and kind. Rory noted that his dad seemed to have acquired more gray hair even in the short time since he had last seen him. Despite his graying hair, Seamus was definitely handsome for his early sixties. Separately, his features might seem odd—a large, flat nose and recessed eyes under thick brows with salt-and-pepper hair. However, taken altogether, his face was strong and definitively Irish.

“See, now you’ve upset your father,” Dee said matter-of-factly as she placed a plate of green beans on the table.

“Smells delicious in here, Dee.” Seamus kissed her rosy cheek as he wandered over to the head of the table, then lowered his voice. “And you don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

She beamed at her husband, and her smile grew even wider when she finally saw her niece behind him. While Casey was actually Seamus’s late brother’s daughter, they had taken her in when she was very young and raised her as their own. She might technically be their cousin, but every Kavanagh boy at the table thought of her as their baby sister.

“Casey! I thought you were going to nap all day after how hard you worked at Legends this morning, mo iníon,” Dee teased the young woman as they all took their seats.

“I was up late last night studying. Midterms this week.” She yawned slightly at the reminder, before leaning over the edge of her seat and giving Ace a quick pat on his head just to be nice.

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.