by Staci Hart
Idiot, he thought as his muscles burned through punch after punch.
She wasn’t like the women he’d been with. For so long he was alone, never really dating in high school, not with life at home being what it was. There was no room for anything past survival, and once he started boxing, he disconnected even more. With winning came cash and fame, and with cash and fame came women. But that they didn’t care about him. They wanted to be in his corner at fights, on his arm at the party, in his bed at night. But they didn’t want him.
Kat was different — he could sense it. She was her own animal, her own force, and Dillon couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if his force met hers, what kind of noise they would make when they collided.
Not that it mattered. He was pretty sure that she wanted nothing to do with him, and he couldn’t say he blame her. He’d never been great with words. It was too easy to fight when things got tense. His only real relationships were with Brian and Owen, and both knew him too well to get upset when he needled them
But Dillon couldn’t get involved with Kat anyway. He was too dangerous, a loose cannon, and she could get hurt. That wasn’t something he could live with.
Kat, Kat. Kat.
His fists pounded on the mat as Brian counted down and lowered his arms. “You could use a break,” he said, eying Dillon.
Dillon walked over to the stool in the corner of the ring and sat down, pulled his gloves off, and dropped them between his feet. He reached for his water bottle and tipped his head back, pouring the cool water over his face, running his fingers through his soaked hair before resting his head in his hands.
It was probably a good thing that Kat wasn’t interested in him. He shook his head and ran his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t trust himself with her or anyone. Not if he got really angry. He was too much like his father.
Dillon was ten years old again, sitting at the table in the kitchen, reading the funnies with Owen next to him, small for his age at five. His dark hair was a mess, and he swung his legs as he dipped his spoon into his Captain Crunch and took a bite. Their mother stood at the sink with a dishtowel slung over her shoulder, humming while she washed dishes in her pressed, powder-blue waitress uniform. The room was bright with soft morning light, and Dillon was filled with a sense of peace.
The door to the bathroom slammed, and his mother dropped a dish in the sink with a clatter. She looked over her shoulder with wide, blue eyes. Owen’s legs lay still, his face turned to the sound, the room silent.
Jimmy walked into the kitchen, blond hair in disarray, thick stubble smattered on his heavy jaw. His dirty, white tank top hung out of rumpled pants that he clearly hadn’t taken off from the night before. The stench of sweat and whiskey hung around him like a heavy fog.
He hadn’t always been a drunk. They moved to America for a better life, but things were just as hard in Brooklyn as they had been in Ireland. Instead of meeting his lot head on, Jimmy met it at the bottom of a bottle.
Jimmy pulled out the chair, and the scrape of the legs on the kitchen floor cut through the heavy silence. He sat down at the table and glared at Dillon, who hadn’t realized he was staring. “The feck are you lookin’ at, gobshite?”
Dillon dropped his eyes back to the comics, seething, wishing he could say what he wanted to say. But he knew it would only make it worse for Owen and his mom. “Nothin’.”
Jimmy turned his cold eyes on his wife. “Moira, where’s me tea?” He leaned forward, and Dillon tensed. Jimmy was looking for a fight.
Moira wiped her hands on her towel, avoiding eye contact with him. “I’ll pour you a cuppa.” She reached up and chose a teacup and saucer, poured a cup out of the tea kettle that sat waiting on the stove, and walked across the kitchen to set it in front of Jimmy. Every move was deliberate. Every moved screamed in its silence.
He looked down at his tea, then back up at her expectantly. “And where’s me eggs and toast?”
She turned back to the sink, hanging her towel on a hook with trembling hands. “Jim, you’ve slept too late. I’m to go now, me shift is startin’.”
Jimmy stood and stalked to her, and the moment he was close enough, he grabbed her wrist and held it up, yanking her to his chest. “You’ll make me eggs before you go, whore. Or your wee Owen and me may spend some time together when you’re gone.”
Her eyes darted to Owen, then back to Jimmy. “I’ll be late, Jim. They’ll fire me.”
“Then you’d best get started, eh?” He flicked her wrist back at her, and she held it to her chest, eyes wide as she turned to the refrigerator and pulled out the eggs with unsteady hands.
The tension pressed down on Dillon, and he watched his father glare at Owen from across the table, feeling the hate roll off him in waves. Dillon had to get Owen out of the house.
“Da, can Owen and me go play outside?”
His eyes snapped to Dillon as he picked up his tea. “All the better, I won’t hear your racket if you’re out. Football’s on.And if trouble finds you, be sure to get the best of the bastards.”He gave Dillon an evil smile that made his stomach turn.
Dillon slipped out of his chair and took Owen by the hand. He glanced at their mother as he held the screen door open for his brother, looked into her clear blue eyes, brimming with sadness and fear as apparent as her tears.
Dillon stared at the dark spot on the floor between his feet that spread with every drop of sweat that slipped from his nose. He was just like his father. When the rage took over, he couldn’t stop himself. And the rage was always there, waiting to escape.
He had to stop thinking about Kat. Stop wondering what it would be like to touch her, to make her laugh, make her happy instead of pissing her off. He had to shut it down, because if he went after her, he could end up caring about her. If he cared about her, he could snap and hurt her. And if he ever hurt her, he’d never forgive himself.
Brian ducked into the ring and leaned against the ropes with his arms across his barrel chest. “Want to talk about it?”
Dillon sighed and hung his big arms on the red ropes behind him. “Did Owen tell you about his new girl?”
“He did. He told me about her sister, too. And that you went full t-rex on her.”
“Yeah. Twice.”
“And this is under your skin because … ”
Dillon told him half the truth. “I may have been out of line.”
“May have?” Brian arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, I was way out of line. I went there last night to apologize and ended up picking a fight with her again before challenging her to a drag race.”
“Owen told me that, too.”
“Well, why the fuck did you ask me if you already know everything?”
Brian shrugged. “Owen also told me that she’s going to kick your ass.”
Dillon rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “I deserve it. I didn’t set out to upset her, but I ended up insulting her. I honestly wasn’t even thinking, words were just flying.”
“Classic Dillon. I hear she’s hot.”
Dillon propped his elbows on his knees. “Understatement. She’s gorgeous. It’s not just that, though. I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s got confidence like I’ve never seen, and when I’m around her … I don’t know. It’s weird, the pull she has on me. But apparently my mouth is the biggest cock block ever.”
Brian laughed. “I’ve never heard you talk about a girl like this before.”
“I know. I’m just not sure I can keep my shit together enough to actually go after her, or if it’s even worth it.”
“Girls like that are always worth it.”
But Dillon wasn’t buying it. “What if I hurt her? What if I freak out and …” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish the thought.
Brian lifted his chin and looked down the bridge of his nose at Dillon. “Listen, man. Have you ever raged on a chick before? Like for real raged?”
“I’ve never stuck around long enough to give myself the chance.”
“So how do you know you can’t keep it together if you’ve never tried?”
Dillon shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it. I don’t want to be responsible for that.”
Brian assessed him. “You’re not your dad. You know that, right?”
Dillon looked back at the dark spot on the floor between his feet.
Brian pushed himself off the ropes and put the pads on his hands. “You have more humanity in your little finger than your dad had in his entire body. Now, come on. You’ve got a fight coming up, and I’m not going to have my reputation smeared by you losing.”
Dillon chuckled and stood. “Your reputation, huh?”
“You heard me, strong man. Let’s go.”
Dillon wondered as he pulled his gloves on if he could let his fears go. He wanted to believe Brian was right about him, that he wasn’t like his father. But he just couldn’t be sure. He struggled for control every day. Without control, he would be just like his father, and that thought scared him more than anything.
Kat was curled up on her couch attempting to read to the sound of Kiki chattered away on the phone with Owen. She sat sideways in an armchair, grinning with her phone pressed to her ear. Kat’s hand absently moved to her necklace, and she grabbed the solitary pearl to slide it up and down the chain, the small zipping sound a familiar comfort.
Kiki giggled. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Bye, Owen.” Kiki put her phone down and sighed.
Kat snickered. “You are such a girl.”
“He’s just … it’s just … I’ve never felt like this before.”
“You say that every time.”
“I mean it, Kat. Something is different with him.”
Kat flipped her book closed. “You know, Owen showing up last night threw me. I didn’t think we’d see him again, but I should have known better. They always come back for you.”
Kiki bit her lip, and Kat’s cheeks flushed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I have a good feeling about Owen. He’s a total one-eighty from the jerkburgers you usually bring home like lost puppy dogs.”
“I know. I’m done with guys like that. Eric officially pushed me over the edge.”
“You and me both. I never understood why you couldn’t just pick a nice guy.”
Kiki hung her head and picked at her nails. “I don’t know why either. There’s something about that kind of guy that’s appealing. A guy that would stand up for you, protect you. Sometimes it’s hard to resist a man who doesn’t give a fuck.”
“But there’s a line, Kiki. Like Joey used to get in fights every time you went anywhere. And Rick used to hit on other girls at bars and make you pay for his drinks.”
“I know. I guess I thought they could change. They needed help, and I thought I could show them how to be better.”
Kat had more to say, but Kiki had clearly seen the light, so she let it go. “Well, I’m glad your affinity for alpha assholes has passed. Owen doesn’t seem like the fighting type. More the bookish, sensitive type. I read him at about a three on the bad-boy scale.”
Kiki’s eyebrows inched up her forehead. “Am I hearing this right? Do you actually approve of someone I like?”
Kat shrugged. “He seems sweet, and I think it’s fair to say that whatever this” she motioned to Kiki, “is, it’s more than like. I’m assuming your heavy discussion on the couch last night turned into heavy petting, since he was still here this morning.”
Kiki blushed. “Okay, okay. I’m not sure what it is yet, but it feels good.”
“You deserve it, Kiki.”
“I thought you said I wasn’t ready?”
Kat looked down at her book, avoiding her sister’s eyes. “Maybe it was me that wasn’t ready.”
Kiki shook her head at the admission. “I can’t even believe I’m hearing this. What’s with the sudden self-awareness?”
“I don’t know. I feel bad about being a bitch about Owen last night.”
“Well, Dillon pushed you pretty far, and when you get mad, you don’t usually take it out on the right person. I didn’t take it personally, and I’m sure Owen didn’t either.”
“Whatever. Dillon’s acting like every other fucker I meet on the track. They never take me seriously.”
Kiki rolled her eyes. “I know. Like having a dick makes them a better driver.”
Kat sank into the couch and folded her arms across her chest. “I’m happy to prove them wrong, just like I’ll prove Dillon wrong.”
“I can’t believe that idiot challenged you to a race. This is your job, not a joke or a hobby. You’re going to murder him.”
“I can’t wait to see the look on his face.” Kat tried to picture him throwing a fit, but all she could think about were his bright eyes, his wide lips, his strong jaw. She swore at herself for even considering him like that, however briefly the thought might have blazed.
Kat zoned out, lost in thought, and Kiki eyed her before picking up her phone, letting her drift away in her thoughts.
Kat hadn’t dated anyone in ages. She’d tried, for a while, but it didn’t take long to figure out that it wasn’t for her. She had always been drawn to men with skill, men with confidence, but she found that her own skill and confidence threatened them. She was too much for them, and before long, they would split.
Sometimes she would read them wrong and they would end up needy or, even weirder — idolizing her. Nothing turned her off more than an asskisser.
So she stopped having any expectations for a real relationship. She found men who had the same missing expectations and let it be what it was. She didn’t invest in them, and they didn’t invest in her, and everyone was happy, whatever that meant.
Her mouth bent in a frown. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a relationship. It was that she didn’t know if the type of man that she was looking for even existed. Was it so much to ask for mutual respect? She didn’t want to be put on pedestal, and she didn’t want to be belittled. It seemed that she’d never found anyone who was on the middle ground. Her equal.
Kat rolled the pearl around her thumb and index finger as her mind wandered to her father, the only man who had ever truly respected her.
She had called him the day after they left Vegas, rightly assuming that he wouldn’t buy her excuse as to why they were moving. She could tell he knew it was bullshit, but he didn’t ask any questions, much to her relief. She knew he’d been digging, but she also knew that he would have a hard time finding anything to go off of. Only four people in the world knew, and none of them were talking.
It was nice to have him so close for once in her life. They had never lived in the same city, and she spent much of her childhood missing him. But when he was in Vegas, everything was right in the world.
“Will Papa bring us presents?” Kiki looked up at Kat as they sat in the window seat.
Kat smiled down at her four-year-old sister and adjusted the bow in her hair. “He usually does.”
“I miss him.”
“I do too, but we don’t have to for long. He’ll be here any minute.” The sisters pressed their hands against the window and looked up the street.
Their mother flitted around the living room with lithe, dancer’s grace, even in heels. She fluffed the pillows on the couch and rearranged the pictures and books on their bookshelves before finally sitting next to the girls at the window seat.
“Grace will be here in a few minutes. Your father and I have dinner reservations.”
Kiki pouted, and her mother laid a hand on her cheek.
“I’m sorry, baby. But we’re going to spend the rest of the weekend together. I promise.”
They heard the rumble of an engine, and a sleek, black Corvette pulled into the drive.
Kiki squealed and hopped off the seat. Their mom straightened up and tugged at the hem of her tight, black dress, then fluffed her long, blond hair. She opened the door, and the girls barreled down the walkway to meet him.
He stepped out of the
car, tall in a gray suit, his jet black hair combed neatly back. On his long, narrow nose sat black sunglasses, and he smiled, showing his sparkling white teeth in his strong, handsome face. He was powerful, anyone could see that, but when he was around his family, his cold shell fell away, leaving a softness reserved just for them.
He set his leather bag down and knelt in front of the car, spreading his arms.
“Ah, musume. Koko ni kuru. Come here, my beautiful girls.”
“Papa!” Kiki screamed as they ran to him, and he wrapped them in his arms, peppering their cheeks with kisses.
“I have missed you, my daughters. Where is your mama?”
“Mama’s right there.” Kiki grinned and pointed at their mother, who stood tall and slender with her blond hair falling over her shoulders and green eyes misty.
He stood and looked over her for a long moment before moving to cup her face in his hands. “Kim. I have missed you.”
Kim’s cheeks flushed, and she leaned into his hand as she gazed up at him. “Katsu.”
He bent to kiss her smiling lips, and Kiki giggled. Kat nudged her, and she pinched her mouth closed. It was so rare to see their parents together that the moments were cherished.
He turned back to the girls, smiling. “Come, musume. Papa has brought you some pretties.”
Kiki squealed again and ran to him, slipping her tiny hand into his. He picked up his bag and beamed at Kim, then turned back to Kat.
“Come, Katsumi. I have something extra special for you.” He smiled again, a smile he saved just for her, and she answered it with her own as she started after him.
The girls sat down on the floor of the cool living room, all eyes on Katsu as he sat down on the couch. He reached into his bag and pulled out a beautiful doll. Her black hair framed her porcelain face, and her eyes were vivid green. She wore a red brocade kimono with a gold tasseled rope around her waist.