The Aftermath

by R. J. Prescott

  “Come on, love. Let’s get you home. I’ll run you a nice hot bath, you can put on a shitty chick flick, and we’ll fall asleep cuddling. Sniffing back the tears, I saw the ghost of a smile as she wiped her face with her hands.

  “That sounds nice,” she said. “Let’s open the letter first though. Whatever’s inside won’t be good and I just want it over and done with” she said, looking at the envelope in disgust. The fact that Frank had even held it made it tainted. I wanted to snatch it away and open it when I was on my own, shield her from whatever was inside. But Danny was right. No way would she put up with that shit. Quickly, like she was ripping off a Band-Aid, she tore open the letter and pulled out a sheet of paper, folded around a single photograph. She glanced at it briefly before allowing it to fall to the table and burying her face in the crook of my neck. She didn’t make a sound but the warm, wet tears against my skin broke my heart. I picked up the note with shaky hands to see what had moved her so badly. In bold black type was printed the message:

  You are MINE. You have always been MINE.

  The picture it came with made me want to vomit. She must have been about seventeen when it was taken. In it, she was unconscious on the floor so I assumed he’d knocked her out. What made me sick was the hand in the photo that had pushed down her shirt and her bra to caress her breast.

  “What else did he do when I was asleep or unconscious? How many other photos does he have? Or worse, what if there are videos?” she mumbled into my neck.

  I squeezed her to me tightly but I didn’t have a single word of compassion to give her. What could I possibly say that would make this cluster fuck any better? The only thing I knew how to do when people tried to hurt me and mine was to hurt back. Without that option, I was helpless. And it was fucking killing me.

  After wiping away the tears, Em went to the bathroom to clean herself up. Before she came back, the guys jumped in and I slid the letter and picture into my back pocket. There were some things they didn’t need to see.

  “What the fuck did she want?” Kier asked.

  “She’s delivering a letter Frank’s sent from prison but apparently that’s secondary to her being sorry for everything and wanting the opportunity to get to know her daughter better.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Liam commented.

  “What do you want to do, Con?” Tommy asked me.

  I sighed deeply as I answered him. “It’s her ma so it’s her choice. But if that bitch thinks that I’ll allow her to break Em a second time, she’s got another thing coming.”

  “The sooner Frank’s trial is over the better,” Kieran said. “I don’t think any of us will rest easy until this thing is done.”

  “There’s something else,” I told them. “Turns out that Frank took pictures when he abused Em. Now he’s sending them to her to mess with us. ” A collection of “fucks” sounded around the table before Kieran spoke up.

  “And her fucking mother is delivering them?” Kieran asked angrily.

  “The last one was mailed but without Frank’s fingerprints, there was nothing to tie it to him. Unless her ma testifies that Frank gave her this letter and that it hasn’t been tampered with, the police ain’t likely to be inclined to do anything about this one either,” I said.

  “So what now?” Liam asked, like I had all the fucking answers.

  “We sit tight and wait for the trial. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  Chapter 4

  “Con, this is Heath Earnshaw. Heath, this is Cormac O’Connell, otherwise known as Con.” It wasn’t often that I met people my size, but this guy that Danny introduced was almost exactly my build. With his brown hair that was almost military short and tanned skin, he could have been my stunt double. I didn’t mind new people training at the gym—Danny always kept the number under control so it didn’t get too busy—but something about the way he’d introduced me to him had me instantly suspicious, like I should know exactly who he was. He held out his hand and said, “Nice to meet you.” Great. He was American as well. Em loved American accents, and I was insecure enough to be pissed off about him being here. My girl only had eyes for me, but that didn’t mean that I wanted anyone trying to turn her head.

  “How are ya?” I asked him, shaking his hand. Okay, so it might have been a firmer handshake than I’d usually use but I was starting this pissing contest like I meant it to go on. He gave me a knowing smirk, like he was mildly amused by my childishness, and stepped back.

  “Heath is your new manager. I’ll carry on training ya but Heath here will be helping with your training where he can and organizing and promoting your fights.” You had to be kidding me. I ground my teeth together, not wanting to disrespect Danny, but I was pissed that he thought Heath could handle my career better than he could.

  “Can I have a word, Danny?” I said, needing badly to let off steam. Danny sighed, like he knew I was going to be a pain in the arse.

  “Fine,” he barked. “My office now. You too, Heath. This involves you.” It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I needed a private word with him, but fuck it. I was pissed, and this kid was getting both barrels. As soon as the door closed, Danny pulled out a rollie and lit it. Inhaling deeply, he blew out the smoke, sighed, then let rip at me. “Right then. You’ve got something to say, Con, let’s have it.”

  Crossing my arms across my chest defensively, I looked at the guy, whose face was completely stoic, then turned to address Danny. “I don’t get why you think a kid, that’s only a couple of years older than me, can manage my career better than you. And why an American?”

  “Heath? You wanna answer that question?” Danny said.

  Heath’s stance mirrored my own as he tried selling himself to me. “I’ve been boxing since I was sixteen and promoting for almost ten years, eight years of which I’ve been contracted to one of the most premier sports agencies in the US. I hold several amateur boxing titles and I have a business degree from UCLA.”

  Okay, so his résumé was pretty impressive, but fancy degrees didn’t do anything for me. “Boxing isn’t just a sport for me. It’s a fucking religion. And the team I’ve got around me now? They’re not just a team. There’s no freeloaders or fair-weather players here. Every one of these boys is fucking family. Now you swan in here and expect me to let you into my family and trust you with my future. Well excuse-the-fuck out of me for being so skeptical.”

  “I’m not asking you to welcome me with open arms. Just give me a chance. If you do that, I’ll show you what I have to offer,” he replied.

  “What can you do for me that Danny can’t?” I asked pointedly.

  “Honestly? Everything. Danny, I respect the hell out of you. What you’ve done, not just with Con’s career, but for all the kids is amazing. But neither of you know anything about contracts, fee negotiation, promotion, merchandising…” He trailed off. “You don’t have the connections to set up international and title fights, but I do.”

  “If you’re so fucking awesome, why d’you leave your fancy job in the States?” I asked.

  “My sister,” he replied. “She got an internship at a company in the UK. My parents separated a couple years ago, and I didn’t like the idea of her being on her own so far away, so I moved here.”

  Em chose just that moment to start her evening of bookkeeping for Danny. It killed me that she was still waitressing as well, but as long as we were saving for our own place, she refused to give it up.

  “I’m so sorry. Am I interrupting something?” Em asked.

  Danny smiled and beckoned her in as he poured her a coffee.

  “Sunshine, this fella here is Heath Earnshaw. He’s going to be Con’s new manager,” Danny informed her.

  “Ah. Nice to meet you,” she said to him, shaking his hand. “I’m Emily O’Connell, Con’s wife.” Earnshaw looked a little surprised, like maybe we looked too young to be married, but my chest puffed up with pride. With her corkscrew curly, wild blond hair, pale, soft skin, and petite frame that sho
wed off killer curves, she was stunning. Her appearance wasn’t what made her beautiful though. Warmth, kindness, and compassion poured out of my wife. She lit up any room she was in, and the fact that she had no idea how wonderful she was made her even more beautiful.

  Earnshaw composed himself enough to give her a broad grin. Fuck him and his all-American white smile.

  “I take it your mother was a big Bronte fan then?” she said.

  “Wuthering Heights was her favorite book, but with a surname like Earnshaw, it would be a missed opportunity to call me anything else,” he joked. Great, so they were making references to a book I’d never read, and I felt even more stupid and uneducated. If I hadn’t heard of Bronte, I wouldn’t even have known it was a book. I stood sullenly, though I did uncross my arms to pull Em’s back into my front, then wrapped them firmly around her waist. I needed to stake my claim in case this guy started getting any ideas. I gave her a quick rundown of his background, and I silently willed her to be on my side.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Heath, why take this job? Don’t get me wrong, I think this is the best place in the world to work, but your background is corporate. With all your transatlantic contracts, surely London sports agencies would snap you up.”

  “Honestly,” he said, relaxing to lean against the desk, “I’m sick of spreading my time among too many clients to meet targets. I want to be part of something special and I’m prepared to take a pay cut to see that happen. I’ve been following Con’s career for quite a while. Danny’s given me the most intensive interview I’ve ever had, and he’s prepared to give me a go. I’d like for Con to give me a real chance to show him what I can do for his career.”

  Em and I both turned to look at Danny. “Don’t you two look at me like that. I’ve said my piece, Con. Whether you use Heath or not, he’s here to stay. I’ll be your coach but I’m done as manager.”

  I looked at Em for her advice. Smiling she said, “I feel like I’ve just met Jerry Maguire.”

  * * *

  Em leaned against the desk, and I sat on her chair, resting my forehead against her stomach. She ran her hands gently through my hair like I knew she would, and instantly I felt better.

  “What don’t you like about him?” she asked me.

  “He’s not one of us Em, I don’t trust anyone outside the family,” I replied.

  “You trusted me once. All of you welcomed me with open arms, and I wasn’t family,” she pointed out.

  “You were always family. I just needed to persuade you to make it legal.”

  “Okay. That aside, what else?”

  “He’s barely older than me. What does he know about boxing that Danny doesn’t?” I questioned.

  “There’s nothing Danny doesn’t know about boxing. But, baby, Danny’s an old man. He’s a fish out of water with promoting and managing, and he’s told you as much. Age and experience aren’t necessarily the same thing either. Danny’s been bookkeeping longer than I’ve been alive, and he trusts my work. You don’t need to trust Heath. Trust Danny. Because I guarantee you, there’s no way he would have recruited this guy and put your future career in his hands if he didn’t see something in him.”

  I knew that what she was saying made sense, and she was right. I trusted Danny, and that meant giving this kid a chance. Didn’t mean I’d have to like it though. Lifting my head, I pulled her down to sit in my lap. Nuzzling her hair aside with my nose, I gently kissed my way down her jaw. I felt her shiver all the way through to my bones. “Okay, Sunshine. If you think this is a good idea, we’ll give it a go,” I said with a sigh.

  “What else is going on in that noggin of yours?” she whispered breathlessly as I drew lazy patterns on the inside of her thigh with my finger.

  “You’ll think I’m insecure and needy,” I admitted.

  “I already know you’re insecure and needy. But I am too, which is why we’re so perfect for each other.”

  “I don’t like the idea of some cut, cocky American spending time with my gorgeous wife. Especially when you talk about books and education. You don’t need any reminders that you could have done far better than me.”

  Wrapping her arms around my neck, she turned to face me. “What’s a rope-a-dope?” Confused about where she was going with this, I answered her.

  “It’s when you trick a boxer into thinking he has you on the ropes, then you use up all your energy hitting him while he lets the ropes take the impact of the hits. When you’re out of energy, he’ll flip your positions and finish you off. It’s what happened to me in the Temple fight.”

  “Who is the longest-reigning World Heavyweight title holder?” she asked.

  She asked three more questions like that before I cottoned on. “You looked all that stuff up didn’t you, to make me feel better about how much I know about boxing.”

  “No, love. I looked that stuff up because I get sick of feeling like an idiot around you and the other guys. A year ago, the only thing I knew about George Foreman was that he made grills! You’re one of the most intelligent and logical men that I’ve ever met, and your opinion matters to me more than anyone else’s. So don’t belittle yourself by thinking you’re any less of a person for not having a degree. It pisses me off.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, imitating Earnshaw’s American accent. Truthfully, I fucking loved how fiercely Em defended me. Seeing myself through her eyes always made me feel better.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the afternoon working out as much frustration as I could.

  “Hey, Con,” a familiar voice said from behind me. I stopped punching long enough to see who it belonged to.

  “Albie, what’re you doing here?” I asked, noting the training bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Danny had an opening for a couple of new members. University gym is packed during the day so Danny said I could train here,” he explained.

  “Good idea,” I agreed.

  “You looking to toughen up a bit? Student life making you a bit soft is it?” Kieran added, as he slung an arm playfully around Albie’s neck.

  “Rugby might not be boxing, but I’m doing okay,” he answered and lifted his shirt. An impressive set of abs proved his point.

  “Hey, fuckers, what’d we miss?” Tommy said, as he and Liam joined us, both acknowledging Albie with a nod.

  “University gym is full so Albie’s training here. Kieran’s worried student life is making him soft and Albie proved he’s got nothing to worry about. Oh, and I’ve got a new fucking manager from the US who’s gonna get his fucking nose broken if he looks twice at Em,” I summarized. The group stared at me in silence.

  “Don’t worry about him, Con,” Tommy told me seriously with a pat on the back. “If Em’s gonna leave you for anyone. It’s definitely going to be me.”

  “Come on,” Kieran said to Albie, “I’ll show you where the spare lockers are. You can train and watch Con put Tommy on his arse at the same time. It’s quite entertaining actually.”

  * * *

  I stood under the piping hot water and willed it to take away my aches and pains. Danny had definitely been pissed at my reaction to Earnshaw because he trained me harder than he ever had, even before the Temple fight. I closed my eyes and thought over what Em had said. I needed to let this Earnshaw guy do his stuff. But knowing I needed to do something and actually doing it were two different things.

  Earnshaw had a long way to go to prove himself to me. I just need to work on reining in my inner arsehole long enough to let that happen. When the water had worked well enough to turn the ache to tiredness, I switched it off and reached for my towel. I was so wiped out I hadn’t even bothered to turn on the shower lights, the light from the locker room in front let me see well enough. There was no one here but me anyway. Danny wasn’t done with me when Em had finished, so Kieran had given her a ride home. Only a couple of the guys had been training when Danny sent me on a five-mile run to finish out my day. He left just as I got back and I told him I’d lock up, so
I was alone. At least that’s what I thought until the lockers behind the shower banged loudly, like someone was being thrown against them. I smiled when I heard the unmistakable sound of two people kissing. Danny was gonna shit bricks if he caught one of the boys sneaking a girl in. A guy groaned in pure ecstasy as they bounced off the locker doors. Whoever they were, they were going at it pretty hot and heavy. Flesh smacked against flesh and teeth clashed as I stayed silent, hoping they’d be done quickly so I could get home to my girl. When I heard the sound of a second, much deeper groan, I froze.

  “You feel so fucking good,” the deeper voice whispered.

  “Why did we wait so long to do this?” the other voice replied.

  “Fuck knows,” said the deep voice, “but I ain’t waiting no more.”

  I gave them five more minutes of kissing and fuck knows what else. I was stunned to realize one of the guys at the gym was gay. I racked my brain trying to think of whose voice it could be. After five minutes of freezing my arse off, I didn’t give a shit. When both their breathing became labored and belt buckles jangled as they were removed, I decided that enough was enough. Coughing conspicuously, I figured the polite thing to do was give them five minutes to leave.

  “What was that?”

  “Shit,” the deeper voice answered as they scrambled to dress.

  “Go. I’ll call you later.” They kissed briefly, and I heard one of them leave. “Okay. You can come out now.” As soon as he said it, I knew who it was. Walking around the lockers, I confirmed my suspicions.

  “Hey, Liam,” I said with a nod.

  “Bit cold are we?” he asked.

  “Freezing my feckin’ balls off actually. Speaking of which, Danny will have yours off if he catches you sneaking someone in here again.”

  “Fair enough,” he replied. “Look, Con, what you heard…” He started to explain, but he was searching for words to tell me what I already knew.