The Storm

by R. J. Prescott

  ***

  “I don’t see why not. It worked for me,” Con said. He and Danny looked almost comical with their identical poses. Both stood with their arms crossed, legs braced, and head tilted slightly to the right as they observed Kieran doing his hanging sit ups. Only Con was about six foot five and Danny about a foot shorter.

  “You had a quick trigger though. Sunshine just being in the same room as you just about set you off,” Danny replied quietly.

  “She still does,” Con answered with a rare chuckle.

  “I’m not sure whether it will work as well for Kieran. He’s too happy. I’m not sure we can get him riled up enough,” Danny said.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Have you seen the way he looks at her? Anyone so much as sneezes too close to his girl, and he’s about ready to put their lights out. The closer to the fight it gets, the worse he’s becoming. He’d pretty much mounted her when you caught them in the locker, hadn’t he? And I’d been working him hard going on eight hours now,” Con replied passionately.

  “Okay, let’s give it a go?” Danny replied.

  They’d both been chatting amongst themselves as I eavesdropped shamelessly. But at Danny’s pronouncement, they both look towards me. “What’s going on?” I asked nervously.

  “Kieran doesn’t want you to leave, but he’s nowhere near done for the day, so we’re going to put you to work,” Danny barked at me. I used to jump every time Danny did that, until Em explained that he wasn’t mad at me; it was just the way he spoke to everyone. Or maybe he was just mad at the world, but not at me in particular.

  “Put me to work how?” I asked cautiously.

  “If it’s okay with you, they’re going to make Kieran bench press continuously for half an hour. If he can do it, he gets to go home with you. If not, Con gets to choose which of the other lads will take you home” Em said, handing me a cup of tea.

  “But I don’t want to go home with anyone other than Kieran,” I protested.

  “Don’t worry,” she replied. “There is no way Kieran will let you walk out of here with another guy.

  Danny passed her another cup, and she sat next to me, sipping on her own drink as she explained. “When a fighter gets to this stage of his training, he kind of hits a wall. He feels too tired to push himself any harder, so he needs some motivation to empty the last of his reserves left in the tank. He needs to finish each day of training having given everything he’s got. In Kieran’s case, his level of testosterone is ramped so high, he’ll push himself further to impress you.”

  “And when that stops working, we’ll start fucking with his head to make him go even further,” Con said, lifting Em up and sitting down with her settled into his lap.

  “Fuck with his head how?” I asked, completely alarmed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kieran

  Irish smelled fucking amazing. Every time I raised the bar, I inhaled. The clean scent of apples was nearly enough to drown out my stink after a day of blood, sweat, and tears. She didn’t seem to mind though. When I first started lifting, she looked nervous, and I held back a smirk. As if I’d ever let anyone else take her home! When Danny suggested this, I was all for it. The thought of getting her alone was all the motivation I needed. Our kiss wasn’t enough to slake my thirst. Now I craved her with every cell in my body.

  “You’re slowing down, boy,” Danny taunted. “Maybe one of the other lads should take a turn.”

  “Nobody touches her except me,” I said emphatically. Keeping Marie directly in my eye line, I kept up the repetitions.

  “Time,” Con called out. Slowly, I lowered the bar to see her smile of relief. I was far from done for the day, but knowing that she was coming home with me, made me feel like a fucking God. Moving behind her, I gripped her waist and pull her into my body. She inhaled sharply, and I knew she felt this as much as I did. It was hard to believe that I’d avoided this connection for so long. It wasn’t lust or anything you could attribute to a chemical imbalance. This feeling was deeper. It was binding. It was so totally fucking addictive that I forgot about the pain and the fatigue. I forgot about everything except showing this woman that I was the strongest man in the room. That I would be her protector. The only man who could give her what she needed.

  Finally, reluctantly, I released her.

  “Gloves on, lover boy. You’ve got three full rounds with me to go before you can get to her. That’s if someone doesn’t replace you first,” Con taunted as he nodded his head towards Tommy. The fucker was leant against the ropes, chatting up my girl.

  “Back away, Tommy,” I warned.

  “We were just talking,” he protested, holding his hands up in the air innocently. No doubt he was telling the truth, but I was in full-on caveman mode. I’d never been this ramped up before. She was mine, and I didn’t want her in the vicinity of any other alpha males.

  Seeing the look on my face, Tommy rolled his eyes, but moved away from Irish.

  “Fucking hormones when they fall in love. Makes normal guys fucking crazy,” he muttered, under his breath. I relaxed a little when she winked at me, knowing that my possessiveness hadn’t upset her. Luckily for me, Tommy turned his attention to Em. Showing how comfortable their long-standing friendship was, he threw his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. To my amusement, Con dropped the smirk and now looked as fierce as I did.

  “Not as much fun anymore, is it?” I said, baiting him.

  “Right then, ya fucker. Game on,” Con said, moving towards his corner to glove up. Tommy had pissed him off, and he was looking for someone to take out his bad mood on. Lucky for him, I had a few frustrations of my own that I wanted to vent.

  “That’s your girl down there, and just you remember it,” Danny whispered in my ear.

  The sneaky fecker had come out of nowhere, but I listened to him as I kept an eye on Irish.

  “O’Connell is gonna pick you apart a piece at a time. That boy is in peak physical condition. He’s in his absolute prime. Nothing and no one is going to make him look bad in front of his wife. But you see, that’s your girl down there. She’s never seen you fight before. She doesn’t know you like we do. She thinks that Con is the most dangerous person in this room. She’s probably worrying right now how you’ll walk away from this. Right now, he ain’t your best mate. You ain’t pulling your punches. You go out there and you show her that you’re stronger, fitter, and faster than anyone has ever seen. You make her forget that there’s any other guys in here, and you make sure you’re the one she’s going home with.”

  My blood was pumping, my heartbeat roaring in my ears. I was electric. I was on fire. I was alive. There was nothing between me and the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, except him. He might think he was the best in the world, but I was better. Why? Because he might have been fighting his entire life, but his entire life I’d been watching him. I knew his tells. I knew his weaknesses. I knew how to win.

  There was no biding our time and dancing around. We knew each other too well for that. He was in this ring to hurt me. To make me work for the win. He threw combination after combination at me relentlessly. I blocked repeatedly, so used to his style that my moves were instinctive. I’d had a lifetime of dodging that famous right hook of his. It was time that I unleashed what I was truly capable of.

  Every one of our punches was brutal. We were both giving it everything we had, without reservation. By the end of the first round, I’d cut his eye and my lip was bleeding. The fucker smirked at me, so I decided to make him hurt some more. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, I beckoned him towards me. The second round was equally as vicious, and by round three we were both breathing heavily. Changing southpaw suddenly to throw me off my game, he came at me.

  “You’re mine, little man,” he taunted.

  “Laugh it up, Con, but my girl is watching every move I make right now. She’s imagining how much stamina I’ve got to train all day and still kick your arse. And your girl? Your girl is hanging off
the arm of Tommy Riordon, the most notorious fucking skirt chaser this side of the Irish Sea,” I replied calmly.

  And there it was. Con’s tell. His strength and ultimate Achilles heel. His wife. He couldn’t resist a quick glance at Tommy to see if I was right. Feinting left, I dodged his automatic right hook and gave him mine. His blow glanced my shoulder as I turned. Mine hit him square in the face and put him on his arse. I wasn’t his easy-going best friend. I wasn’t the life of the party. I was a fighter. A champion. I was Marie’s champion, and there was nothing and nobody who was going to take that away from me.

  Con looked up at me from the floor, and to my surprise, he was grinning from ear to fucking ear.

  “What you smiling at?” I asked him, confused. He was a world-class fighter, number one, at the absolute top of his game, and I’d put him on his arse. He should be devastated, not smiling like a fucking lunatic.

  “You, ya fucking legend,” he said to me, as though that answered my question at all.

  “I told you it would work,” Con told Danny.

  “I’ve gotta hand it to ya, kid. I didn’t think it would, but I underestimated how bad he has it for this girl,” Danny replied with a rare chuckle.

  “Oh shit,” Con muttered. I followed the line of his stare to Irish. Watching the ring from below us, she was white as a sheet and shaking. Fuck! I completely panicked, standing there, frozen like a deer in the head lights. We’d all been boxing our entire lives. This was every day bread and butter to us. But she’d only ever seen my softer side. The side that was hers and hers alone. Inside of those four ropes, I had become an athlete. A stone-cold killer. Focused. Driven. Hungry for victory. I’d revealed my most basic self, and she was terrified.

  I took a step forward, and instinctively she took one back. I froze again, fearing that if I moved she’d bolt. Em looked towards Con worriedly, but I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t turn my eyes away from Irish. If I did, she might leave, and I didn’t know whether she’d ever come back.

  A hand came down on my shoulder, and Con whispered in my ear, “I’ve got this.” Moving ahead of me, he took off his remaining glove and dropped it on the canvas. Parting the ropes, he jumped down.

  “Marie, why don’t we go for a walk? Get a bit of fresh air,” Con suggested.

  Irish looked towards me, for guidance I guessed. Her eyes pooled, and I willed those tears not to fall. I willed a lot of things in that moment. Most of all, I prayed that I hadn’t lost her, that her glimpse of my dark side hadn’t sent her running for the hills. The idea of fighting professionally didn’t faze me, but the thought of her seeing me unworthy had me scared. I couldn’t lose her. Not now.

  I stared, immobile and petrified, as Con pulled on a hoodie, then guided her out the doors towards the street. All I could do was watch her leave. The sound of the closing door echoed through the gym like a death knell.

  “You can’t hide it from her, Kier. You’re a fighter, and that’s not going to change. She needs to see all of you, not just the bits you want to show her,” Em said. She walked up the steps to the ring, but instead of getting in, she leant on the ropes to talk to me.

  “Did you see the look on her face? That wasn’t eve three rounds. Nowhere near as bloody and brutal this battle is going to get, and she was destroyed,” I replied forlornly.

  “Kieran,” she said gently. “You have no idea what it’s like watching someone you care about take a beating, to stand there and knowingly watch then take hit after hit without being able to do anything about.”

  But Con’s my best friend. She must have known that he would never seriously hurt me. If she can’t handle that, what hope have I got?” I asked earnestly.

  “I hate to break this to you,” she said with a chuckle, “but neither of you were pulling your punches. All she saw were two of the best fighters in the world knocking the stuffing out of each other. It was the first time she’s ever seen you raise a hand to someone, so you’re going to have to give her some time to adjust.”

  “What if she never adjusts? You’re fine with Con being in the ring, but she looked terrified.”

  Em stood up a little straighter, her gentle expression becoming a little more serious. “I am not, nor will I ever be, fine with my husband being in the ring. When he stands on that canvas, I fake it. I put on this veneer of serenity, and I stand there and be who he needs me to be. Every time, I have faith that he will kick arse and bring home a victory. But my fear, that one stray punch will hurt him badly, is every bit as strong as my faith.”

  I swallowed hard, my throat completely dry. I had absolutely no idea that she felt that way.

  “Why do you do it then? Why do you go with him to fights and let him do what he does?” I asked, confused.

  “Because it’s who he is. It’s who he was born to be. I want him to hang up his gloves when he’s ready, not because he wants to please me. So, for however long that takes, I’ll be there for him. I think Marie loves you, and if I’m right, she’ll do the same. Today was a shock, but I’d bet good money that by tomorrow, she’ll be the happy-go-lucky girl we all know and love.”

  “You think she loves me?” I asked quietly, not quite able to stop a small smile.

  “Who doesn’t?” Em replied.

  ***

  I rubbed my clean-shaven jaw and sighed, my stare unwavering from the door.

  “She’ll be here,” Con assured me with a pat on the back. I wished I could have shared his optimism, but it had been twenty four hours. She sent me a text apologising that she’d left, and explaining that she was tired and that she’d see me tomorrow. When I called, her phone had been switched off. I spend the night tossing and turning, fighting the urge to go to her instead of giving her time.

  “I’m sorry, Kier. We have to leave now or we might not make it to the weigh-in on time,” Heath said sympathetically. They all knew who I’d been waiting for, and with every passing minute, their faces began to mirror the desperation I was feeling. Reluctantly, I stood, put on my leather riding jacket, and grabbed my helmet. There was nothing I wanted more than to climb on my bike and track her down. To make up for the days and nights that I hadn’t been able to spend with her. To finally make her mine. I couldn’t do it though. No matter what. Every man here had invested something in getting me this far. They’d invested something in me, and I wouldn’t let them down.

  Irish meant the world to me, but deep down in my gut was a burning need to climb into the ring, open myself up, and see what I could do. Con’s problem was containing himself, keeping control of himself long enough to make magic happen. My problem was releasing that control. I needed to know, once and for all, what I could do, whether I was good enough to make it. I didn’t want to be an old man lying in my bed and wondering what I could have been if only I’d taken a chance.

  And I was taking it.

  That didn’t mean that this was an either-or situation though. Irish was mine, whether she knew it or not. There might be a million guys more deserving of her than me, but I knew how rare and precious she was, and I wasn’t letting her go. If a million worthy guys wanted her, they’d have to get through me. Because no one would take care of her, fucking worship her, like I would. Tomorrow I was going to own the fight, and when I was done, I was coming for her. If it took the rest of my life, I was going to make her fall for me as hard as I’d fallen for her. With that binding resolution and determination in mind, I followed the boys confidently out the door. What I found outside almost brought me to my knees.

  “Hey, I was beginning to think I’d missed you,” Irish said quietly. Her cheeks were flushed pink with the cold, her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her short, leather jacket. Honestly? I’d never seen a more fucking beautiful sight. The weight I’d been carrying on my shoulders all day lifted as she spoke. Without saying a word, I strode over to her. Holding onto the soft woollen scarf that rested around her neck, I pulled her to me and rested my forehead gently against hers. My eyes drifted shut as I inhaled deeply, draw
ing the apple scent deep into my lungs. Hungry for more, I nuzzled her neck, my lips desperately close to her smooth, peachy skin. I was millimetres away from seeing if she tasted as good as she smelled, but if I started, I’d never stop. She giggled, my cold nose tickling her. The sound was music to my ears.

  “You came back,” I whispered to her.

  “I never left you,” she replied.

  “I was worried I’d scared you off. You know, seeing how violent the fighting can be. Seeing how violent I can be,” I admitted.

  She thought carefully, her brow furrowed in concentration, before she answered. “I’m not stupid. I knew you were all fighters and what that meant. I knew you weren’t a choir boy. But I never realised how it would feel to watch someone try to hurt you. I wanted you to win, but I was petrified you’d get hurt. The look on Con’s face was just… terrifying,” she replied.

  Tilting her chin up with my knuckle, I looked her deep in the eyes.

  “The world around us, whether it’s in the gym or between the ropes, I’ve got that. I can control that. But I need to know that this,” I said, gesturing between the two of us, “is rock solid. Without you, I can’t breathe anymore. When I think of doing this without you, there’s a pain in my chest that won’t go away. I can fight anyone you put in front of me. I will defeat any man who tries to stand against me, but I need you with me.”

  “I’ll always be with you, Kier,” she whispered. “Always.” Wrapping her hand around my neck, she pressed her lips against mine. Reaching around her waist, I pulled her tightly against me, not wanting a breath of air between us. She opened her mouth to me, and I lost the ability to think. One of us moaned, but I had no idea who. I didn’t care. Her tongue slid against mine, and I lost it. I wanted to be gentle, but she was an addiction I was desperate to feed. She shivering as I moved my hand under her jacket and sweater to stroke the naked skin at the base of her spine. Her hand wound around my hair and gripped it with urgency. She was as consumed by the kiss as I was, oblivious to anything else.