by Karen Rock
“Afghanistan and—” he trailed off, wondering himself. Where had he been? He thought back to the past two years spent in his apartment and realized he’d been nowhere. But instead of feeling satisfied, the thought unsettled him. Until Kayleigh, he hadn’t realized that he’d missed getting out.
“Around,” he continued after nodding at a sympathetic interjection from Brennan. He wanted to bypass any comments about his “sacrifice.” “I’m working on a start-up company with an old friend.”
There. A positive direction. The first he’d taken in years—if Kayleigh was still talking to him. After their unforgettable kiss, she hadn’t returned his calls, texts or emails in days. It had been a rash, stupid thing for him to do, and he wanted to apologize. Needed to. But she was avoiding him, and although he usually liked being left alone, he missed her. She’d burrowed her way into his life, and her absence left a hole he wasn’t sure he could stitch back up.
He knew he was on borrowed time with her, but he wasn’t ready to end it. Doubted he ever would be. But with Chris’s declassification a real possibility, the time would come. His gut wrenched.
“You and Aunt Kayleigh were friends?” Josh’s hair floated in every direction when he pulled off his Yankees cap and hung it on one of the pegs behind them.
Niall nodded. “Yep.” A part of him wondered if, after their kiss, it was still true. He’d been wrong to catch her off guard, but her smug certainty had gotten to him. He’d wanted to shake her confidence that they were only friends for reasons he couldn’t explain to himself. Why start something he knew they’d never be able to finish? Yet he couldn’t deny his feelings for Kayleigh. Could he control them and not scare her off again?
“A start-up? Is that like a new business?” Brennan wrapped his towel around his neck and tied his shoes.
“Yes, but it focuses on using the internet and social media in new ways.” When Niall pointed, Josh trudged across the space to pick up the sneakers he’d kicked off. At Niall’s nod, the boy slid them over shoe holders beneath the large front window.
“Come again?” Brennan stared at him quizzically, and Niall remembered that he managed one of his family’s hardware stores. He probably didn’t need to know much about social media.
“Like one of those couples-compatibility sites, but for your iPhone.”
Brennan’s thick eyebrows spread apart, understanding dawning in his close-set eyes. “Sounds like those horoscope things my wife reads. Whenever she’s mad at me, she calls me a Taurus. As if anyone believes that crap.”
At Niall’s narrow-eyed look, Brennan waved his hands, his face turning scarlet. “No offense, buddy.”
“None taken,” Niall said evenly, then turned toward Josh as the kid flopped on the bench beside him. “And your aunt and I met at summer camp when we were eleven. Your age.”
“Random.” Josh peered around Niall, his eyes tracking the action in the training room. But for his shaking knee and clenched hands, he acted like he couldn’t care less.
“Some things are,” Brennan responded then pushed to his feet. “Good seeing you, Niall. Will you be back again?”
Josh’s head whipped around, his eyes on Niall.
“Depends on how things go today.” Niall gave the boy a significant look. If Josh didn’t follow the directions he’d given him earlier about showing respect and self-control, they’d be kicked out on their first day. For good reason. Martial arts were more about self-discipline than fighting, a lesson that Josh needed to learn.
“Good luck to you, then.” Brennan pulled on his sunglasses and pushed through the front door, letting in a burst of morning-traffic sounds and bright sunshine. The light glared off Josh’s pale face.
“You ready for this, kid?”
Josh’s tense shoulders belied his nonchalant shrug. “I guess.” He crossed thin arms over his narrow chest, his expression defiant.
What a change from his earlier excitement. He’d been practically bouncing off the apartment walls, telling his grandfather, Chris’s dad, about their plans when Niall picked him up. Then Beth mentioned a one o’clock anger-management therapy appointment, and the boy had grown quiet and sullen.
Niall handed Josh a water bottle. “That attitude isn’t going to work here.”
“Whatever.” Josh grabbed the metal canister. “I just want to learn to do that kick that knocked in my door. Then no one will mess with me.”
There it was again, that hint that something else was wrong in Josh’s life.
Niall tried to catch Josh’s eye. “Who messes with you?”
“Only people who wish they hadn’t.” Josh laced his fingers and popped his knuckles.
“Kids at school?”
Josh’s face grew pinched, and he sprang to his feet. He stomped away, then halted at the arched entrance to the dojang training area. “Are we going in now or what?” he demanded without looking back.
“What.” Niall slowly pulled out a pair of towels as if he had all the time in the world.
Josh turned, surprised. “Huh?”
“What,” Niall repeated calmly. He grabbed a sweatband and fitted it around his temples. “That’s my choice. I’m not taking your bad attitude inside. You either leave it at the door, or you stay behind.”
Josh blew out a long breath and his shoulders lowered. “Fine. May we go inside?” At Niall’s raised eyebrow he added, “Please?”
“Better.” Niall got to his feet, marveling at the rolling motion of his new foot as he padded to the entranceway. Inside the cavernous space, lines of students went through a series of opening stretches and poses. Was he capable of those now? Excitement stung him, as if a part of him that had fallen asleep had woken.
Together, they walked along the wooden floor’s perimeter, listening to the muffled sounds of students straining to keep their balance and the muted commands given by the class leader. When Josh opened his mouth, Niall’s head shake kept him quiet.
He breathed in the old smells of sweat, rubber and, oddly, fresh laundry, as their air vents adjoined a dry-cleaning business. Despite the windowless space, the whirring ceiling fans, bright artificial light and air-conditioning were invigorating, and a wish to take charge of the hardworking students on the mats seized him. He’d become an instructor when he’d earned his purple belt and had continued—until he’d left for the war—as he’d gained in rank to become a five-time black belt.
As they strode toward a compact man wearing a white dobok, a black belt around the V-neck jacket of his uniform, Josh whispered, “Do I have to wear those lame pajamas? Those kids look like losers.”
Niall eyed the colored belts around the children’s waists. They were far from losers. “Those kids could kick your—”
“Greetings, Master Walsh. It’s been too long since we’ve had the pleasure of seeing you.”
Niall returned the man’s bow, noting that his black hair was now sprinkled with gray, but as close-cropped as ever.
“Greetings, Master Jung. May I introduce this novice, who seeks your permission to train?” He nudged Josh forward.
The boy’s eyes were wide as he watched the older man bow to him. Josh put his hands together and clumsily repeated the gesture.
“I’m Josh.”
Niall coughed and shot Josh a long look until the boy flushed and stammered what they’d practiced on the bus. “Master Jung. I would like the honor of learning your craft. I hope to be worthy of it.”
Pride spread its warm tentacles in Niall’s chest. Josh’s tough-guy, apathetic persona was an act. Niall was more certain than ever that bringing him to the dojang had been the right move. It might be a dangled carrot to get him to agree to attend anger-management therapy, but it would also help him rein in his emotions. And it would give him a safe place to belong, as it once had Niall.
Josh held himself stiffly a
s Master Jung’s eyes searched his. At last, the older man turned to Niall.
“He has much Han.”
Niall returned the nine-time black belt and one-time World Champion’s stare impassively, knowing it would only hurt their chances if he argued about Josh being, as Master Jung astutely noted, angry. In fact, Han was much more than that, and its meaning in Korean culture summed up Josh in many ways. Han was sorrow caused by heavy suffering, injustice or persecution, a dull lingering ache in the soul as it waited for vengeance.
But Josh wasn’t waiting. He was getting revenge against the world that had stolen his father by using his fists and his rage. Guilt scratched Niall from the inside out. The man who’d brought Josh to this dojang deserved his anger, his revenge. No one else.
But his lips were sealed, as much as it pained him not to share what had happened. Instead, he’d do his best to help the kid get a handle on his temper.
Josh moved restlessly beside him and rose on the balls of his feet. “What’s Han?” He glowered at Niall, his hands fisted at his sides. “Is this dude making fun of me?”
Niall shook his head firmly at the boy, silently conveying the need for him to simmer down. Josh was not helping their cause. When his heels hit the floor again, he unfolded his hands and lowered his head.
At last, Master Jung’s tight mouth relaxed, and he nodded. “Yes. There is much to teach and much to learn. If he applies himself, he’ll gain what he’s missing. However, to stay, he must control his temper.”
Josh opened his mouth, then shut it at Niall’s sharp glance.
“We bow to your wisdom, Master Jung,” he said gravely, relief sweeping through him that they’d made it this far. Now, if Josh could keep a lid on his temper, they might join after all.
Master Jung’s narrow face stretched wide as he smiled. “Josh, as you are not in uniform, go to the back of the group and follow Master Thomas’s directions.”
“But they’re just stretching,” Josh protested. “I want to learn how to fight.”
“I suspect you already know a bit of that skill.” The smallest smile lifted the edges of Master Jung’s mustache but didn’t reach his eyes. “Tae kwon do will teach you to be master of yourself. The best weapon of all. Now go.”
Master Jung’s last words rang with such authority that Josh scurried away without a backward glance. Niall watched him join a few other kids in street clothes and begin lunging. Good. The boy might run roughshod over others, but he wouldn’t get away with that here.
He smiled as he recalled his older brother, Aiden, signing him and Liam up for classes shortly after their father’s death. It’d helped get them through that tough, confusing time, turning their anger-fueled teenage fights into controlled sparring matches. Tae kwan do focused them on building skills rather than hurting each other.
Much of the frustration he’d felt over losing his dad had been contained when he’d practiced self-restraint and moved up in belts. It’d given him peace and pride. Hopefully, that would happen for Josh.
Could he apply the same self-discipline in reining in his runaway thoughts about Kayleigh? He had to try. Given the impossibility of their situation, he couldn’t afford to let himself think about her as anything other than a business partner, no matter how much their kiss had blown his mind.
“Shall we fill out his forms?” Master Jung inclined his head, and Niall followed him back to the reception area, bypassing the desk and heading into a small office. An electric waterfall dominated a corner of the room, clear liquid burbling down its greenish stone. A wall calendar flipped to July revealed a stunning picture of Seongsan Sunrise Peak, piles of moss-covered rocks strewn around the ancient volcanic crater. A traditional Hanbok robe was encased in a large glass box that showcased its simple long lines and rich scarlet-and-orange fabric. The smell of incense rose from a stick burning in a burnished-copper tray beside a small bonsai tree with green, glossy leaves. So much had changed in his life, yet here, it seemed as though time stood still with only the changing calendar pictures to mark the passing days.
Niall accepted the pen and stack of papers passed to him. “Thank you, Master Jung. This is a great opportunity for Josh.”
“And your relationship to the boy?” Master Jung’s offhand question froze Niall’s hand as he filled in information. How to explain that? Josh was the son of the man who’d died saving Niall. In a strange way, Master Jung, of all people, would probably accept that explanation if Niall were allowed to give it.
“He’s my friend and business partner’s nephew.”
“And his father is—”
Niall’s numb fingers dropped the pen, and he fumbled for it near his feet.
“Dead,” he made himself say. Funny how often he thought about it, but saying it out loud was still tough.
“You knew this man.” Master Jung slid him a cup of tea he’d poured from an electronic kettle. The smell of ginger and lemon filled the room.
Niall nodded and sipped the brew, his tongue blistering when the scalding, tart liquid splashed over it. He’d known Jung too long to outright lie.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.”
“Oh. He wasn’t my—” Niall cut himself off. It felt wrong to call Chris a stranger. “I knew him briefly.”
“But his passing troubles you enough to help his son.”
Niall dodged Master Jung’s all-seeing eyes. This was beginning to feel more like a counseling session than a business transaction.
“I’m concerned about his anger. He’s been fighting at school and may get expelled.”
Master Jung pressed his palms and the tips of his fingers together and peered over them. “I remember a boy who came here once, angry over his father’s death.”
Niall nodded. “That boy is grateful to you.”
“But there’s new anger in you, as well. You should rejoin us.”
Niall leaned back in shock. He’d planned to bring Josh, sit on the sidelines, perhaps work on the Must Traits code on his laptop, demonstrate a stretch or pose or two when they got home to reinforce Josh’s lessons. He wasn’t up to the mental and physical rigors of the dojang.
“I—” He opened his mouth to refuse, and hesitated. Wasn’t this exactly what Kayleigh meant about being more open? Working through his issues had helped him once before. It was unlikely that it would change his feelings now, given that he was squarely to blame for Chris’s death. However, refusing seemed churlish given all Master Jung had done for him.
“I accept.” He picked up the small porcelain glass and drained the cooling liquid.
Master Jung pushed aside a vibrating cell phone, his eyes burning into Niall’s. “Very good. You’ll find an additional form in the papers for you to reenroll. Once I’ve judged your level, I’ll assign you classes to lead.”
Niall swallowed hard. He’d planned to be responsible for Josh and now...he would be in charge of dozens. The more he opened up, the more life poured in. Would he sink or swim?
“Very good, sir.” He picked up the pen when Jung left the room to handle a customer at the front desk.
As he filled in the information, his mind wandered, running over the timeline of events that had gotten him here, stopping on the botanical gardens kiss a couple of days ago.
It’d stirred up feelings he hadn’t thought he was capable of. The feel of her in his arms, the sweet taste of her, the way she’d responded... It drove him crazy remembering it. He shouldn’t have kissed her. Wouldn’t have if the look in her eyes hadn’t said yes, if she hadn’t reached for him...yet given her stony silence, she’d regretted it in the end.
A few minutes later, his phone vibrated against his hip. His heart pounded when Kayleigh’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hello?”
A long snuffling sob sounded in his ear.
“Kayleigh
?”
A hiccup interrupted her skipping intake of air. His fingers tightened around his phone. He’d been worried that his actions at the garden would drive her away. Was she about to call off their business arrangement? Suddenly, he realized how much he wanted it for himself, not just to help Kayleigh and Chris’s family.
He should have kept himself in check and not thrown back the first lifeline that’d been tossed his way. If he could keep her from giving up on him, he would never go near her again. Hard as that might be, the thought of not seeing her at all was too difficult to swallow.
“Talk to me, Kay.”
His words were met with a long silence that was broken when she blew her nose.
“I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice and glanced through the doorway to see Master Jung talking animatedly to a mother and her two sons. “I should never have kissed you. It was rude and thoughtless. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t.” When she spoke, her voice sounded more tired than he’d ever heard it. His forehead dipped, and he shut his eyes. He’d known the kiss was wrong, but to have her agree so readily wounded him.
“Now that we’ve got that behind us,” he said brusquely, wanting her to trust that he could be the professional partner and friend she needed, “let’s plan on going through our presentation for our next finance meeting—ForwardTech Ventures, Inc. All signs point to them investing in this product. They’re progressive, not risk adverse—”
“None of that matters now.”
“I see.” He’d royally screwed up if she didn’t want him involved at all. He’d known, since the war, that he wasn’t a hero, no prince to rescue a damsel in distress. So why the heck had he acted like one, sweeping her into a kiss she clearly detested?
“No, no, I do care. I mean, it’s not about that.” Her words jump-started his heart. It pounded hard against his rib cage.