by Cecy Robson
I frowned. “Are you talking about Joey Sacrasano?”
He glanced up. “What?”
“The guy you said Wren beat up.”
“Yeah. It was Joey.”
I crinkled my nose. “He didn’t pull her hair, Killian. He grabbed her breasts. I saw him.”
Killian scowled. “Then the shithead deserved it.”
I leaned my head on my palm, watching him as he divided the eggs and bacon between two plates. “Killian…what’s up with you and my brother?”
He paused before passing me a plate. “I made a stupid mistake once. It caused people a lot of hurt. Things haven’t been the same between us since.”
“Have you asked him to forgive you?”
“Hard to ask someone to forgive you when you know you’ll never be able to forgive yourself.”
The only reason I didn’t press was I could sense the guilt and shame gathering around Killian. If he trusted me, maybe in time he’d tell me more. For now, I let things go.
He dug into his food. I took my first bite and chewed very slowly. The eggs were…crunchy.
“I never said I could cook,” he admitted. He poked through his batch, picking out the tiny bits of shell.
“I’ll do breakfast next time,” I promised.
“Yeah?”
I covered my face when he grinned. “Will there be a next time?”
“Like I told your brother, if you want to be here, then I want you here with me.” His hand skimmed over my arm. “Last night was something special.”
That was one way to put it.
He smiled. “What are you thinking?”
“Are we, you know?”
He laughed. “No. I don’t know.”
I played with my fork. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
His shoulders shook as he laughed. “Say what?”
My teeth pulled on my bottom lip as Killian gathered me to him. “Are we, like, together?”
He swept my hair over my shoulder. “Don’t you know by now that you’re my girl?”
He kissed me sweetly, searching my face when he pulled away. “I want to talk to you about something.”
His sudden seriousness took me out of our moment. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just want you to know I’m clean. I have my blood test to prove it.” He waited before speaking. “I don’t want you to worry about anything we might or might not do. Okay?”
“Okay.” Although I agreed, he seemed like he wanted to say more. “Is there something else?”
“Just one other thing, but it’s a big deal.”
“More than s-sex?” For goodness sake. I could barely spit the words out.
“Yeah.” He held me close to him. “I don’t like you being afraid. I want you to start taking self-defense classes with Wren—and maybe do some sparring with me and Finn.”
I slipped from his hold. “I can’t.”
“We’ll take it easy on you. Go slow at first.”
I withdrew, gathering my arms protectively around me. “I’m…afraid to get hit.” I didn’t like admitting it, but it was true, and Killian should know.
Killian watched me carefully. “Because of all those years Carlos hurt you?”
Killian knew my father and the abuse he’d inflicted. He’d seen my bruises growing up, despite how I’d tried to hide them. “I’m not Lety or Teo,” I admitted. “The beat-downs they received made them tougher. Made them come out swinging. I was never that brave.”
Killian stepped closer. “Then it’s time for you to learn to be brave.”
Chapter 8
My body slammed down onto the mat. Again. How many times could one person go down in an hour? I groaned, trying to count. Roughly nine.
Wren’s face appeared in my line of vision. “You okay, Sofe?”
“Totally,” I squeaked.
I took the hand she offered and let her pull me up. I didn’t care about my pride anymore. I’d left it unconscious and bleeding on the mat the first time Sauron’s mother threw me to the floor.
Gloria still looked pregnant. Gloria smoked a pack of Marlboros a day. If we crashed in the Amazon jungle, Gloria would snap my neck, eat me, and not think twice. Gloria was seriously kicking my butt. But Gloria was nice. And in her defense, she did seem to feel bad.
“Sorry about knocking you on your skinny ass again, Sofia,” she said.
I held up my hand and tried to smile. “It’s okay. These things happen, Gloria.”
Wren ordered us to the heavy bags, so off we went. My roundhouse kicks were as impressive as my takedowns, forcing Killian to abandon his class in the middle of his “strength is achieved through blood” speech. “Sofia. Drop your head, follow with your hips, use the weight of your body.”
All thirty pounds of me. Got it. I crouched low with the same results until Killian came up behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Bend this knee slightly—no, too much. Good. Real good.” He lifted the back of my knee, unaware of the scorching heat burning my face. “Now straighten your leg.”
He smirked when he caught my flaming cheeks. His instructions here seemed awfully similar to his pointers in the bedroom.
The women hooted behind us. “Hey, Killian!” one of the other moms yelled. “Do you think you can show me how it’s done?”
“Mmm-hmm,” another woman agreed, eyeing him up like a Twix bar.
Killian hugged me to him. “Sorry, ladies. I only make exceptions for my girl, Sofia.”
Truth be told, I liked him admitting he was all mine. That said, I couldn’t stop the heat creeping its way up my neck when he kissed my lips.
“Told you they were fucking,” a different woman muttered to Wren, who simply nodded.
I clasped my hand over my eyes. Oh, if they only knew.
I watched Killian return to his class before resuming my sad attempts at kicking the bag. Killian was an excellent athlete and gifted instructor. He could settle a group of out-of-control kids with his voice and teach someone as unassuming and small as his brother to take down men three times his size. Too bad he seemed to be wasting his talent and time with me.
Wren walked over to me, her expression pained as she took in my form. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” I asked her.
“Yeah. You are. Here, watch and learn.” She stood back, hands up, and kicked. “Pivot and kick. Pivot and kick. Just like this. Make this bag your bitch and watch it bleed. Now you try it.”
I pulled my leg back and imitated her movements. “Better?” I asked, excited I was somewhat holding my balance.
Sadly, my friend remained unimpressed. “Sofe, if you were taking on a kindergartner or maybe an old fart with a walker—you’d be fo’ sure kicking some serious ass now. But if anyone other than a first grader takes you on, you’re in deep shit.”
I lifted my hands and tried again, this time harder.
Wren pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sofe. Get mad at the bag. Pretend it called your mother a whore, your sister a bitch, and that hot brother of yours an asshat with tiny testes.”
Her motivational speech didn’t seem to help. “Christ,” she said when I tried again.
Thankfully, class ended for the day. I returned to the office and got to work on my new laptop. Killian was intelligent and strong, but he’d chosen not to attend college. He knew little about business, but learned fast that it took more to run one than simply rounding up a few bodies willing to throw him money. The more I became aware of his business needs, the more I added to the program I was creating, trying hard to make at least one aspect of his life easier for him.
I was actually quite proud of how it was coming along, and I was going to seek him out to show him a few things when he came in and plopped down beside me. “When do you think the new site will be up and ready to go?”
I glanced up from what I was doing. “Soon. Why?”
“My match in Atlantic City is coming up fast. Just got a text from the coordinator, they added more title matches�
�lots of promo planned. That means more business and more traffic to the site.”
I considered what I had to tell him.
“Wassup?” he asked, knowing something was.
I tapped my fingers on the desk. “I think you need to spruce up the gym. It’s clean and in great shape, but needs a paint job.”
He made a face. “You’re going to paint my gym orange, aren’t you?”
I giggled into my hands. “No. I was thinking darker colors—charcoal and black—with burgundy and sage accents.”
He rubbed his jaw. “Accents. Of course we can’t forget the damn accents.”
I ignored his comment. “Part of my course of study for interior design includes a final project where I redo an existing residence or building, making it more modern. I could do your gym, and we could both help each other out.”
He smirked. “You won’t be a senior for another year. You planning to stick around that long?”
Okay, hadn’t thought about it that way. “Ah…”
“Good,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me. He chuckled when I inched away. “What’s wrong?”
I motioned to the lingering band of stay-at-home moms watching us outside the door. “I’m on it,” Killian said. He marched to the door, waved to the curious onlookers, and slammed it shut, then leaned his body against it. “Come here.”
“Why?”
His sexy smile all but curled my toes. “Because I haven’t kissed you like I’ve wanted to today.”
Well, the feeling was mutual. I stood and timidly made my way to his side. But when his head bent forward and his hands gripped my hips, it was easy to surrender to that kiss and forget where we were.
Killian took his sweet time, even as his lips passed along my neck and his hands kneaded my backside. “You staying with me tonight?” he whispered against my ear before slipping his tongue in.
My mother was headed for Niagara Falls. I hadn’t planned to stay at my old place alone. “If you want me to,” I managed. Who was I kidding? I’d already packed an overnight bag.
My hands slipped beneath his muscle T-shirt and my body tightened against his.
Finn knocked on the door. “Kill. The local youth group is here. Are you available or are you and Sofia busy?” He half coughed, half laughed. “Father Flanagan would like to see you.”
I jumped out of Killian’s arms as if prodded by flaming swords held by the Knights Templar. Father Flanagan had baptized me and there I was groping Philly’s favorite son just a closed door away from him.
Killian’s body shook with laughter as he watched me scramble to sit behind the desk and adjust my body to a less horny position. He muffled his laughter against his shoulder. “Sure. Send him in.” I don’t know how he did it, but his laid-back position returned—like his hands hadn’t just been fondling me. He opened the door, smiling innocently like the good Catholic boy he pretended to be, and held out his hand. “Good afternoon, Father. What can I help you with?”
Father Flanagan shook his hand. “Killian, look how you’ve grown.” To me he nodded, scrutinizing me closely and homing in on the guilt spreading along my features. I was going to hell. I knew it then. “Sofia, how are you, darling girl?”
“F-fine, thank you, Father. And you?”
He took the seat Killian held out for him. “Looking for a way to keep the young ones occupied and out of harm’s way.” He waited until Killian took his usual seat beside me before continuing. “I was hoping you could help me with that.”
Killian leaned forward. “Are you looking to enroll the kids in some classes?”
“It would mean a lot to the church,” Father Flanagan told him.
And less time in Purgatory for you, he left unsaid.
“How many boys?”
“Thirteen, possibly more.”
“And how much can the church contribute?”
I knew Father’s answer in his smile. “Not much, I’m afraid.”
“When you say ‘not much,’ what do you mean exactly, Father?”
Again Father Flanagan smiled. “The boys need discipline. They can clean in exchange. And of course the church will continue to support you with referrals.”
Killian rubbed his strong jaw. While the money coming in was good, his staff was limited to his family plus a few of his fighters with the skills and willingness to teach. If he were to take on Father Flanagan’s group, it would mean another class for him to manage, more responsibility, and less time training for his upcoming match.
“What do you think?” Killian asked me.
It would also mean less time for us.
I leaned toward him and clutched his arm, whispering low. “Maybe they can do a little more than clean.” I smiled softly when he raised his brows. “I think we found your renovation crew.”
I then turned to Father Flanagan. “Father, does Dugan O’Malley still own that chain of paint stores?”
Father considered. “He does.”
I smiled politely. “Do you think he’d be willing to give Killian a discount on paint on behalf of the church?”
Father’s gray eyes twinkled. He knew where I was headed. “He very well might. What’re you thinking, Sofia?”
My attention cut to Killian; this was his decision after all. He leaned back, but not before offering a smirk my way. “Tell you what, Father. I’ll give every kid under your watch free classes on Mondays so long as they clean the bathrooms and mats each night before they go home. But I need help painting my place, too. Do you think we can work something out with the kids and Mr. O’Malley?”
Father’s grin widened. “Killian, me boy, if you help the boys out, the church will help you, too. When do you need us?”
—
“You’re quite the businesswoman, you know that?”
Killian helped me unpack the groceries we’d bought on our way home from the gym. I shrugged. “I don’t know about that.”
“What do you mean? You fixed it so I’d get charged close to nothing on the paint, and then made it so I wouldn’t have to pay a crew to come in.” He rested his forearms against the brown granite countertop. “I just hope these kids know how to paint.”
I rinsed the cabbage leaves. “It should be fine. Father Flanagan promised to hang out and help. You know how strict he is. And with the kids’ families also there, things should go fast.”
“I take it you’ve got a plan?”
“Totally.” I’d spent the last hour taking shots of the entire gym from the observation deck on the second level. The digital camera Uncle Lino had given me made it easy; so had the view from above. I was going to download the images, blank out the colors, and redo them in different shades so Killian could choose what he wanted. “I’ll work on the images tonight and tomorrow so you can see what I mean.”
Killian’s hands fell to my hips as he came up behind me. “That can wait, don’t you think?” He massaged my small curves. “You’ve been working hard all week.”
My skin tingled when he kissed my neck. I turned off the water and clutched the edges of the sink when his kisses turned to bites.
Although I welcomed his touch with my heart, my mind wasn’t as yielding. My body tensed as Killian unhooked the front button of the sundress I’d changed into. One button quickly followed another, exposing the pink lace bra I wore beneath.
My muscles tightened further as he pulled the straps down my arms. He paused. “Do you want me to stop?” Despite my insistence that I was safe, and the knowledge that Killian would never hurt me, my body failed to relax and had begun to tremble. The inability to control my fear frustrated and humiliated me. But as bad as I felt, Killian’s reaction made it that much worse.
He withdrew, backing away from me slowly. “Sofia…you’re scared.”
I wished I wasn’t, but it was true. It terrified me to have him behind me and not be able to see his face—to know for sure that it was him. Even though every rational part of me realized it couldn’t be anyone else. “This isn’t a good position for m
e,” I stammered.
He watched me for a beat, understanding spreading along his features. “I’m sorry.”
The last thing I wanted was for him to apologize. “Please don’t be.”
He crossed his arms. “What about the way I was touching you? Does that scare you?”
I wrung my hands. “It’s not about the way that you touch. I-I have this fear of being overpowered. It’s worse when someone’s behind me.”
I’d never admitted that before. And in a way, the admission frightened me more.
“You’re afraid of being overpowered?” he repeated.
“Yes.”
“By me?”
I angled my chin away from him. “By anyone.”
“I see,” he responded almost silently.
The sadness in his tone had me rushing to place my arms around him. “I don’t want to feel this way, Killian.”
Yet I did anyway. For a while, he didn’t seem to have the words. But when he finally formed them, I didn’t like what he had to say.
“Do you think we should take a break?”
“A break?” My heart sank. “You want to break up with me?”
“No. That’s not what I mean.” He sighed. “What I’m saying is, maybe I shouldn’t touch you for a while. Maybe it’s been too much for you and you need some space.”
My hands slipped away from him. But then what will happen to us?
I tried to slow my words so they wouldn’t sound rushed or desperate. “I want you to touch me.”
He didn’t appear to believe me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said, meaning it. “I only wish there was a way to tame my fear.”
Killian stroked the length of my back, only to stop suddenly right where my spine curved. “What if you tie me up?”
I thought I’d misheard. “What?”
He laughed, appearing embarrassed for the first time in years. “If my wrists are tied behind my back, you may not be as scared. You wouldn’t have to worry about being overpowered. I’d be the one at your mercy.”
I blinked back at him with wide eyes. “I-I don’t know about this.”