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Breaking a Legend by Sarah Robinson (9)

Chapter 9

“Well, if it isn’t Cinderella!” Kane shouted as Rory limped into the building more than an hour late, with Ace by his side.

“Wrong fucking fairy tale, idiot,” Rory snapped back, marching right past him to the locker room. He did his best to walk straight, but his leg was vibrating with pain, which put a slight limp in his step.

Kane wasn’t finished and followed him into the room, angrily.

“Fine. Sleeping Beauty, Snow White—pick whatever pansy-ass princess you want. Point is that you are late. Again. Over an hour this time. Again!” His brother was angrier than Rory had seen him in a while.

“All right, I’m sorry. Shit, why are you so worked up?”

“You’re kidding, right? My first fight is less than two weeks away, Rory.”

“I know. You’ll be ready.” Rory finished changing and pulled a clean towel off the rack and headed back out of the locker room toward the rings.

“How will I be ready when my trainer isn’t training me? When he comes in an hour late reeking of—what is that, whiskey?”

“Good nose.” Rory tried to lighten the tension as he climbed into the ring and motioned for Kane to join him.

He knew that even though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since yesterday afternoon, detoxing could still make him smell like booze. Ace had followed them back out to the ring and sat by the sidelines, watching the brothers argue.

“I’m serious, Rory. This isn’t a damn joke to me.”

“Man, I know. I get it, okay? I remember before my first fight, too. Tell you what—we’ll work extra this week to prepare. Make you feel like the world spins on your damn fingertip, all right?”

“Well, okay. But that means twice a day, and no being late.” Kane was appeased for a moment. Rory just tossed him some gloves, then pulled on some of his own. He kept a blank face, trying to hide what he was really thinking.

“Ready? Okay, come at me.” Rory nodded at his brother, as he got into the guard position and prepared.

Kane charged at him, fists up, but Rory ducked down and hooked his arm under Kane’s while pulling him into his body. Kane was knocked off balance by the move and Rory instantly had Kane’s leg and flipped him onto his back. Standing over his brother as Kane tried to find his breath, Rory offered his hand to help him back up. Despite the pain he was in, he knew he was still a pro at fighting.

“Today, I’ll show you half guards, escapes, and single-leg takedowns.”

“Fuck, which one did you just do?” Kane complained, standing and shaking it off.

“All of them.”

Clare eagerly opened the door to Woodlawn Rescues, the animal rescue shelter that Casey had mentioned. After that morning’s self-defense class, Clare had asked Patty all about the shelter she ran. Clare couldn’t wait to start volunteering and had headed straight there after class was over.

She had seen Rory practicing with Kane, as he always was at that hour, but hadn’t disturbed him. In truth, she felt a little awkward about having just spent the night with him. It had been a while since she had been with anyone, and she found herself worrying that maybe he hadn’t enjoyed the evening as much as she had. After all, she didn’t really know what she was doing. She hadn’t even known what she wanted when he’d asked her; no one had ever cared to find out what she liked in bed, so she didn’t know, either.

Surprisingly, Rory hadn’t even noticed her at the gym, or maybe he hadn’t been looking for her as he seemed completely caught up in sparring with his brother. She kept getting stuck on the worry that maybe this had just been a one-night stand to him. Maybe he just wanted sex, and that was it—in fact, maybe that’s what she wanted, too. Her cheeks flamed as she pictured the evening, a familiar heat settling in her once more.

“Hi.” Trying to push thoughts of last night away, Clare gave a small wave to the young woman sitting on a tall chair behind the counter in the lobby of Woodlawn Rescues.

She wasn’t paying attention, her nose buried in a thick book. Fresh-faced and innocent, she had to have been only just out of high school. Her hair was unmistakably strawberry blond, billowing down over her shoulders to her waist in large waves. When she raised her head, her light blue eyes were swollen and red, and Clare realized she was sniffling.

“Hi—oh, my gosh, this is so embarrassing.” The young woman smiled sheepishly and placed the book on the counter, reaching for a tissue.

“Oh, no…Are you okay?” Clare frowned, feeling bad for the teary-eyed young woman.

“I’m fine, just really got into that book.” She sniffled and Clare breathed a sigh of relief before joining her in the banter.

“I know how that is. I love a good ugly cry.”

“So I’m an ugly crier?” The girl knitted her brow at Clare.

“Not even a little bit,” Clare swore as she leaned against the counter, blushing at how clueless her comment had just been.

“Just messing with you.” The young woman smiled, a friendly ease passing between them. “What can I do for you?”

“Patty’s in my gym class, and she told me to come on down to fill out a volunteer application. I just moved here and would love to get started again someplace like this. I used to volunteer in a shelter in California when I was younger.” Clare prattled on, a bit nervous that she would be turned down.

She knew she didn’t have any impressive experience, and she hadn’t finished her degree. Hell, she had barely started it. More than that, though, she felt like no one would actually want to work with her.

Travis had told her so many times how incompetent she was, it had become hard to believe she was anything else. She tried to push those thoughts away from her mind, instead telling herself that maybe doing volunteer work would ease some of the guilt she felt about the past.

“Sure! I’ve got a form right here. What kinda volunteer work are you most interested in? Because we could use pretty much anything.” The young woman reached into a filing cabinet behind her and flipped through folders until she found a blank application form that she placed on the counter in front of Clare.

“I’m hoping to be a veterinarian one day. I plan to start classes soon.” Clare frowned, uncertainty passing through her as she wondered if she would ever actually reach her goals.

“That’s awesome. Dr. Prentiss could use the help for sure.”

“Really? That would be amazing. I can do anything else, too. I mean, I love animals—I don’t mind cleaning up or any of the gross stuff.” Clare picked a pen up off the counter and started filling out the form.

“Sounds great—we have plenty of gross stuff,” the girl said with a giggle. “We definitely are short-staffed, too. Me and my mom—you met Patty—generally do everything around here by ourselves. With Dr. Prentiss, of course.”

“Patty’s your mom? She looks so young,” Clare mused.

“Yeah, she had me pretty young. I’m Kiera, by the way. Kiera Finley.” The young woman smiled and extended a hand.

“Clare Ivers.” Clare smiled back, shaking Kiera’s hand.

“It’s good to have you aboard, Clare. I mean, my mom will have to go over your application, just check if you’re a serial killer or something like that, but otherwise, you’re good to go.”

“Shoot, I guess the three people I murdered on the way here might be a problem?” Clare tried not to sound anxious about a potential background check, playing off her nerves with a joke.

“Just don’t write about them on the form—I’m sure she won’t figure it out. She doesn’t usually check half the time anyway, but don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Perfect, then I’m all done. Anything else you need from me, or should I just wait for a call or something?” Clare handed the form back to Kiera, feeling a bit more relieved.

“How about a tour now? Then I’ll have Mom call you about a schedule.” Kiera stepped out from around the counter and pointed toward a swinging door that led to the back.

“That would be amazing!” Clare clasped her hands together in excitement.

Kiera motioned for her to follow and the two went through the back door, leading into a short hallway with four doors, two on each side. The paint was peeling off the walls and one of the hallway lights was out. There were colorful pictures of dogs on the walls, and motivational posters, as if someone was hoping that would distract from the shabby structure of the building.

“On the left here, you’ve got the office door. In there is just a desk and all our files, plus the employee bathroom. The next door after that is the exam room—you’ll probably be in there a lot since Dr. Prentiss does most of his work in there.”

“Here on the right, both doors lead to the dog pens. It’s kind of like a giant half circle—you enter through this door and come back out the other. Let me show you.” Kiera pushed open the first door and ushered Clare through. Metal pens about four feet wide lined each side of the hallway, filled with barking dogs of several different breeds.

“These are all aggressive breeds,” Clare said with surprise, wandering down the aisle and noting that most of the dogs fit into a select few breeds.

“Technically, yes. We specialize in ex-fight dogs and bait dogs, but we strongly believe here that dogs are a product of their environment, not genetics. So, we don’t call them aggressive breeds,” Kiera told her.

“Do you rehabilitate them?”

“We try, but it’s not always easy. Some of the dogs we train are already adopted out, but come here for help learning how to reintegrate into loving homes. However, most of the dogs we get are from busted-up dog-fighting rings, so they don’t know anything else. But we do have a higher success rate than most places.” Kiera sounded sad as she waved a few fingers at a dog in a neighboring cage, smiling affectionately.

“That’s amazing. I can’t wait to see how you guys do that.” Clare smiled at a pit bull who warily watched her from one eye; the other eye had a large scar straight through it and was clearly blind.

“Definitely. Although, admittedly, I’m not an expert, and we can’t really afford to hire an expert, either, but we do have a volunteer who comes in a few times a week and does the best work with them I’ve ever seen.” Kiera led Clare around the rest of the pens, winding back to the exit that returned them to the first hallway.

Clare followed her, listening and absorbing everything she was experiencing. She was eager to start, feeling like she was already at home. Something about the environment felt familiar, like she belonged.

Something she hadn’t felt in as long as she could remember.

Traveling back the length of the hallway toward the front, Clare got a better view of the pictures posted on the wall. As she passed, she realized one was familiar and she paused to look closer.

“I know this dog.” Clare snapped her fingers as if the motion would pull the memory to the surface.

Kiera peeked over her shoulder to see which picture she was considering.

“That’s Ace, one of our biggest success stories. He was a bait dog, wildly abused. One of the worst cases we’ve ever had—the ring he came from was brutal. Poor thing was scared of his own shadow when we got him, but he’s like a totally different dog now. Sadly, he is the only dog that survived that particular fight ring.” There was a mixture of pride and sadness in Kiera’s expression. Clare frowned at the idea that the sweet dog she knew had come from such poor conditions.

“Ace, yeah—I met him, such a sweet dog.” Clare recognized the dog as belonging to Rory, and was touched that he had adopted a rescue from such a rough background. It seemed there was even more sensitivity to him than she had originally known.

“You have? Well, you must have met the volunteer I was telling you about then, the guy who helps with the rehabilitations? Rory?” Kiera ambled back to the front lobby.

“Rory Kavanagh?” Clare’s jaw dropped.

“He’s the best. Takes on the most damaged dogs we have and doesn’t quit until they’re adoptable. He’s had more success than any of us—I don’t know how he does it. Even on cases where I want to throw in the towel, he continues until the dog trusts him and softens up. He’s kind of a big, scary-looking man himself, sort of medieval-meets-caveman, which makes sense with his background. He used to be an amazing fighter, a legend in this town. Somehow, under all that hulk, there’s a big ol’ heart that the dogs recognize.” Kiera beamed, chatting away without realizing that Clare was intently soaking up every word.

“Yeah, I’ve met him,” Clare said, trying to sound nonchalant and not look like she was picturing his naked body pressed on top of her, as it had been not too long ago.

Because she was definitely picturing that.

She couldn’t believe what a small place Woodlawn was; there was nowhere she could go that Rory hadn’t been. Honestly, she didn’t mind, because everything Kiera was telling her only made her heart pound louder in her chest. Every time she thought she had Rory figured out, she found out something new about him that completely surprised her.

Damn it! What am I doing? I don’t want to be in a relationship. I should forget about it—just let it be a one-night stand. I don’t want to date Rory Kavanagh. I don’t want to date Rory Kavanagh.

But as Kiera continued showing her pictures and telling her the history of the rescues, and of Rory’s involvement there, Clare kept smiling as she thought of him. She really liked this side of Rory—in fact, she liked every side of Rory. Last night hadn’t been a one-time thing for her. She bit her lip at the thought, hoping he might feel the same way.

Shit, I’m in trouble.

“Grab some lunch and then we’ll start again,” Rory told Kane the following day as they both exited the ring. Ace joined them, meandering toward the front counter at Legends.

“Sounds good.” Kane pointed at his brother. “You better be here when I get back.”

Rory stopped at the counter, leaning against it as Ace sat by his feet. “Man, relax. I promised you yesterday that I would be here twice a day this whole week, and I was on time this morning, wasn’t I?”

Kane just grunted in response.

“I’ll watch him.” Casey smiled from where she stood behind the counter, working on the computer.

“See?” said Rory. “I’ve got my own babysitter.”

“Where are you going to get lunch?” Casey asked Kane. “I’m hungry.”

“I don’t know. Deli down the street?”

“Can you grab me a turkey on rye?” she asked.

“That sounds good—make it two. And grab Ace a chicken sandwich,” Rory chimed in, pulling his wallet out and handing a few bills to his brother.

“Anyone else want in on Kane’s Human and Canine Catering services?” Kane asked, sarcastically, before adding, “I can’t believe I’m feeding your damn dog.”

“Oh, yeah—Clare’s going to be here any minute, and I know she must be hungry after the workout we had this morning, so grab her something, too—that way, she can eat with me,” Casey told him.

“Who’s Clare?” Kane asked.

“You remember, the blonde that Rory’s been drooling all over? She’s my friend.”

“I don’t drool over anyone.” Rory scoffed at the implication.

“Casey, is he blushing right now?”

They both peered at him, intentionally being dramatic.

“Well, dear me, Kane, I do believe he is! Could it be that Rory fancies a lady?” Casey exaggerated a long southern drawl, causing both of the men to roll their eyes. Kane chortled as he left Rory staring daggers at Casey.

“Lay off, Casey. Nothing’s going on. Plus, you didn’t even want me going after her, anyway. I’m a bad influence, remember?” Rory dropped both elbows onto the counter and shifted his weight forward onto them, hoping lying would ease the pressure he was feeling.

“Well, if you’re not going to go for it, maybe I will. I like blondes,” Kane teased him as Casey shot him a disapproving glare.

“I swear, Kane, if you so much as breathe in her direction, I will knock you out so hard you won’t wake up.” Rory was suddenly seething, his stance shifting from relaxed to high alert.

“Well, that’s a normal reaction,” Kane said sarcastically.

Casey cut in. “Both of you boys, stop it. Kane, leave him alone.”

“Listen to her if you know what’s good for you,” Rory threatened, his entire body tense and angry. Kane just shrugged and left to go get their sandwiches.

“Anyways,” Casey said exaggeratedly, turning back to Rory and grinning mischievously, “so is there something between you and Clare? Because if there is, that’s fine as long as you’re good to her. She deserves the best, Rory. Be the best or nothing.”

“Maybe there is something going on, maybe there isn’t. Either way, it’s none of your business.” Rory felt frustrated at everything happening inside of him that he couldn’t understand.

He hadn’t seen Clare since yesterday morning, and he was dying to wrap himself around her again—which drove him even more crazy, because that was new territory for him. He hadn’t done a relationship since college, and even that one had been immature and not very serious.

“What’s none of her business?” a melodic voice cut in from behind him.

Rory spun around to stare into Clare’s deep green eyes as she smiled at him. He licked his lips for a second as he took in her tight sports tank and tiny shorts, perfectly accentuating her petite yet curvy figure. When his eyes reached hers again after raking over her body, he noticed a sparkle in them, as if she had a secret. Her lips twitched, as if she was trying not to laugh.

They did have a secret, and the secret was that knowing what was under those clothes made it even harder to keep his hands to himself.

“Rory was just telling me that—” Casey started.

“—that I wished I had asked Kane for white bread instead of rye,” Rory interrupted, lying.

Casey started snickering while Clare shot them both a puzzled expression, then waltzed up to the counter and dropped her purse in front of Casey. She rummaged around inside for a minute before finding her phone and checking her messages.

“Clare, I got you a sandwich, too. Kane should be back any minute,” Casey told her, and Clare smiled gratefully.

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m starving. I could literally eat anything right now.”

“Anything?” Rory slid into the conversation.

Both women shot him a look.

“Just a joke, ladies. Loosen up,” he griped, as Casey finished sorting through a stack of papers and carried them to the back office.

Clare stood there next to Rory, both of them not saying anything. She was trying to busy herself, staring into her phone, so Rory reached over and grabbed it out of her hands.

“Hey! Give that back!”

“Legends has a no-phone policy—didn’t you read the membership brochure?” Rory pointed at the sign on the wall that stated the rule.

“Well, I’m at the front desk, not inside the gym. So it doesn’t count.” She propped her hands on her hips, defiantly.

“Too bad. A rule is a rule.”

“Rory,” she scoffed.

“I might be willing to give it back…” he started.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “But?”

“If I give you something, then what do I get?” He took a step closer to her, licking his bottom lip as he saw her breathing speed up.

Her chest rose and fell more rapidly, and her cheeks flushed slightly. Knowing he had that effect on her was absolutely addicting to him.

“What do you want?”

“A date. A real one. Not just walking you home after work, or the training that I’m starting you in on Monday.” He hadn’t really thought it through, but now that he said it, he realized that was exactly what he wanted. They had unofficially gone out a few times, but they hadn’t actually gone on a date.

She stifled a smile. “What do you call the other night? You got your date, many times if I recall.”

“That wasn’t a date, mhuirnín.

“Then what was it?” she questioned, and he stepped forward, invading her space as he looked down at her pert lips.

“That was me unable to stop myself from fucking you, and enjoying every second of it.” His eyes blazed, and he was pretty sure she might faint at his words since she suddenly looked wobbly on her feet.

He lightened. “A date, Clare. Otherwise, no phone.” He held the phone out in front of him, but pulled it back just enough when she tried to reach for it. She was steady now, and the lust in her eyes had turned to anger.

“Seriously? Isn’t this a little childish, Rory?”

“Children have the most fun.”

“Fine, give me back my phone and I will.”

“You will what?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he knew that she was trying to figure out if there was any way to win the battle of wills they were dueling in. He smiled victoriously when he saw a flash of defeat cross her face and her posture slumped slightly. She leaned down to distractedly pet Ace, who had inched his way over to where she was standing. He was still surprised that Ace not only liked her, but seemed to prefer her over almost anyone else.

“I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Sounds like a fair trade to me.” He winked at her, then opened her phone and typed in his number, saving it for her. He also made sure to quickly call his phone from hers, so he would have her number on his caller ID. He was kicking himself for not getting her phone number days ago.

“Enjoy your lunch with Casey, mhuirnín.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek, swiftly yet softly.

She didn’t answer, only blinked in surprise as he turned and headed toward the locker rooms, leaving her petting Ace and waiting for Casey.