“I wish I could believe it would be that simple. Hell, I wish I was as optimistic as you are.”
“You don’t have to be—that’s what I’m here for.”
“If you insist.” Chiara smiled but it didn’t reach her gorgeous dark eyes.
Beneath his false bravado, Torin didn’t feel nearly as confident as he seemed. He was worried about what they would want from him too but he wouldn’t know until Friday, and that wasn’t the most comforting thought.
LIFE WENT ON and Friday came much too soon for Torin.
After he’d dropped Chiara off at her place Wednesday morning before he’d gone to the gym to practice for his fight Friday night, they’d stayed in touch via phone and text.
It wasn’t the best arrangement but he could certainly understand her apprehension. She was scared and with good reason. Neither Jackson, Abandonato nor Karl Schmidt were people he would want to get into a tussle with because it would spell nothing but trouble for him.
Torin stopped by Chiara’s house at nine in the morning, an hour before the meeting was supposed to begin. He parked, got out of the car, and walked up to her door. Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open; he faced an attractive brunette with pale green eyes, and a lithe body too skinny for his tastes.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him with cold eyes. “You must be the boyfriend.”
“And you must be the sister,” he replied. “The name’s Torin.”
“Yeah, I know who you are. I’m Sienna, and yes, I happen to be Chiara’s older sister.” She leaned closer to him. “Listen to me, carefully. I may not be the most well-adjusted person on the planet but if you break my sister’s heart, I will hunt you down and cut your dick off. The nice thing about suffering from a mental illness is it’ll come in handy when I ‘pull a Lorena Bobbitt’ on you.”
Torin stepped back, and unconsciously adjusted his junk.
Women had no idea what a scary thought that was for a man; that would be like threatening to a cut a woman’s tits off but even more unpleasant than that.
He was saved from responding to the offensive comment when Chiara rushed past her sister in a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized black cashmere sweater.
“Go home, Sienna.” She closed the door behind herself and locked it. “No wonder I could never get a boyfriend if you were always threatening to harm them.”
Sienna rolled her eyes as continued to shoot evil glances in Torin’s direction. “What are you talkin’ about? Or did you forget you couldn’t have a boyfriend for the last ten years per your contract with Jackson? Put the blame on the right person, Chiara.”
“Yes, but why did I have to sign that contract in the first place or did you forget you were in that overpriced looney bin in Carson City I had to pay for?”
“Whatever. Blame me, and my mental illness, which is not my fault by the way. I would give anything to be normal and not walk around like a fuckin’ zombie all day—”
“Better to feel like a zombie on the outside than inside a funny farm. If you come off your meds again, I will send you to one…don’t push me.”
Sienna looked at Torin like he was covered in shit before she began the walk back over to her house. “Happy fuckin’ Friday to you too,” she murmured as she passed her sister.
Chiara merely grabbed Torin’s hand. “Let’s get outta here. With traffic being the way it is, we’ll barely make that meeting in time.”
“Are you not even going to ask what your sister said to me?”
She shrugged. “What? Did she threaten to cut your dick off? That’s what she used to say to Peter all the time.”
“Who the fuck is Peter?”
“My high school boyfriend.” Chiara slid into the passenger seat of his SUV as soon as he disabled the alarm.
Torin shook his head and tried to focus on the day ahead but all he could think about was how jealous he suddenly was of Peter.
“That’s really the last time you dated? In high school?” He got into the driver’s seat, pushed the ignition button, and shortly took off from her place.
“Yes. We were dating when everything happened with Sienna and…after I signed the contract, I broke things off with him but I didn’t say why. He was hurt for a while and begged me to reconsider but I couldn’t. Anyway, he found a nice Italian girl to marry shortly afterwards. They live in Lake Tahoe where he’s a construction foreman. They have three kids and everything worked out pretty well for him. That kind of life—it was never supposed to be mine.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.” She turned toward him and smiled. “I didn’t say everything is perfect the way that it is but I would rather live this life in a heartbeat than another. It’s meant to be.”
Torin glanced in her direction before he focused on the road again. “Don’t think just because I’m willing to save you that I wish you were doing anything other than sellin’ your ass for money. It’s not right, Chiara. You’re intelligent, attractive and could have done a million other things rather than piss your life away.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she snapped in her anger. “Do you think I enjoy the humiliation, and degradation that comes with my job? I don’t. I hate how some client’s only wish isn’t just my body but how they want to watch me break…and I hate I have to fake it for them.”
“Darlin’…I’m so sorry. Is that why you were so short with me when I asked to do this for you?”
“Yes and no.” She paused and breathed deeply. “I knew you weren’t that kind of person but I’m constantly afraid all of this might break you. I don’t want that either. You might come across as tough but I see the real you and you are anything but. You’re so sensitive, and you’re the first guy I have ever had these kinds of feelings for but I just know that I’m being unrealistic. You can’t save me—I have to do that for myself.”
“Not this time you don’t,” he said.
Torin stopped at a red light before he faced her. “Shit. What the hell have I gotten you involved with? I should have never said anything about this meeting today.”
“Stop beating yourself up, Chiara. I contacted them so I would have known anyway, regardless whether you said anything or not. None of this is your fault.”
She didn’t say anything further on the drive and the silence, no matter how weighted, was a reprieve. He needed it if only to pull himself together and stop behaving like such a fucking pussy.
Yes, he wanted to save her but he also needed to be redeemed and perhaps he was using her predicament as a way of mending fences. She had nothing to do with the self-loathing he felt. That was on his father mostly. He needed to convince himself that if he helped her then maybe one day, he would forgive himself for the ultimate betrayal toward the man who’d help give him life.
It was the only way he stood a fighting chance of beating the demons he lived with every fucking day.
TORIN AND CHIARA arrived to the meeting fifteen minutes early.
It was being held in one of the conference rooms on the tenth floor but they were still the last to arrive. Angelo and Raymond were talking quietly while Karl had his mobile phone, the Bluetooth firmly in his ear.
“Yeah, they just arrived. We’ll talk later.” He ended his call and glared at Torin and Chiara.
They sat across from the three men at the large conference table while a waiter fussed around the various drinks that had been set out.
He reached for a bottled water and grabbed one for Chiara as well while the powerful men who would decide their destinies drank alcoholic beverages.
“Hello, Chiara,” Mr. Abandonato exclaimed with a bit of snark in his voice. “How’s your sister?”
“If you want to know how your daughter is doing, I could give you Sienna’s cell phone number. Or do you plan to drive her off the deep end again like you did ten years ago?”
He laughed out loud. “Just because your father owns one of the biggest construction companies on the West Coas
t, don’t think you can disrespect me in front of my peers. I would think you would be grateful to my associates and I. We saved you from a life of poverty and servitude.”
“What the hell are you prattling on about, Angelo?” Chiara snapped. “I’ve paid every goddamn day for my mother’s mistakes, and yours. I would hardly call what I have been through a charmed life.”
“Don’t forget it could have been worse—you came to me, remember?” Raymond spoke up before his eyes bore into Torin’s. “You might want to think of putting her on a leash. She has always been uncontrollable. How I have managed with her for the last nine years is beyond me.”
“Please don’t talk about her like she isn’t here,” Torin responded in a cold voice.
Karl cleared his throat. “Enough of the petty bullshit. Let’s get down to business. Chiara wants out and you decided to be her knight in shining armor…that’s fine but please don’t think that absolves you from your previous indiscretions with our merchandise, Mr. Duffy.”
Torin wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and beat this son of a bitch to death with his bare hands. He’d done it before and unlike the last time, he’d enjoy watching this bastard die.
“Karl makes a good point, which brings us to Chiara’s contract.” Raymond placed his well-manicured hands on the table. “I’ve terminated it, verbally, but she doesn’t get it in writing until we have a gentlemen’s agreement.”
“What would that consist of?”
“Well, it depends on you, Mr. Duffy.” Angelo pushed the contract across the table and Torin grabbed it. “We all know you’ll make it through the Championship this year but what if we were to make it…a little easier for you to do so? We’re not asking for much, and you will reach the finals.”
He glanced from the contract to the smug, wealthy fucks he sat across from. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ in that statement.”
Raymond looked at his business partners before he glanced back at him. “The final will be the fighting Irishman—that would be you—against Victor Rodriguez. Depending upon how the odds go by that time, you may or may not be the favorite. If you are then we need you to throw that fight. You can only win it if you’re the underdog.”
“Why would you ask him to do something like that when you know he’s retiring this year?” Chiara finally spoke up. “And why would he do that for a tired old whore like me? Do you really think I’m that valuable to him?”
“I think he believes you’re quite valuable indeed and…he’s right. You are.” Karl smiled but it didn’t reach his cold aquamarine eyes. “Why do you think so little of yourself, Chiara? A man like him would be lucky to have you.”
“What happens if I’m a favorite and I don’t throw the fight?” Torin spoke up.
“We’ll just have to contact the Police Service of Northern Ireland and give them this information.” Raymond shoved a manila envelope across the table.
He placed his hand on the envelope before he opened it and took out copies of photos. They were photos of his dead father that had miraculously disappeared during the time of the investigation, and conveniently kept him out of jail. Had they been in the PSNI’s possession, the Public Prosecution Service planned to have him arrested and placed on trial for the beating and murder of Torin Evoy Duffy, Jr. It would have ended his career, and he would probably still be in prison had the case gone to trial.
His heart battered his chest and his lungs struggled to breathe the cool air circulating around the conference room.
Torin couldn’t blame Chiara for this because it was his destiny all along. He would have to be held accountable for what he did to his father and the disappearance of the photos now made sense.
There was a criminal element involved; they’d always planned to use this as blackmail against him but the right time had never presented itself until now.
Torin hated they were using Chiara to do it. In hindsight, she could have been anyone, and they still would have found an excuse to trap him in this room, and force him to make a decision that would mean either a disastrous ending for his career or the end of his life.
The freedom he knew would be gone, Northern Ireland would have him extradited, and he would be sent away from America and back to the land of his birth, to face charges for the murder of his father.
Fuck them for putting him in this situation.
He bowed his head and placed the photos back in the envelope before he pushed them back across the table.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Raymond inquired out loud.
“I’ll throw the fucking fight if I have to.” Torin glared at the men with resignation but he couldn’t even blame them.
Everything that was happening to him, he’d done it to himself.
Part Two
Fighting To Live
Five Months Later
Chapter Twelve
Chiara
LIKE A FAMOUS author once said, it was the best of times and the worst of times for Torin and me.
He fought and won his matches, but they all led to what could be an inevitable fall for his career. That was not only difficult for him to face but it was also hard on me too.
I never did find out what Raymond and Angelo had showed him that day in the conference room but it had him spooked and he never spoke of it. If I tried to bring it up in casual conversation, he would change the subject. He simply didn’t want to talk about what had happened in the meeting that day.
It really started to grate on my nerves simply because I didn’t want to be the reason why he threw a match and let an unworthy opponent win a game. That wasn’t how sports were played, and since when did gangsters start calling the shots again?
I felt frustrated more times than not and that day in particular with my birthday just days away, I was completely on edge. I sat in the sitting room in Torin’s house. He was at the gym, practicing for the fight he had on the thirtieth, which would secure his quarterfinal position in the Championships and I was completely on edge.
The trip to France was still happening for us but it wouldn’t take place until after the Championships ended. I had started to take a college course to improve my conversational French but even my homework couldn’t occupy me long enough to not worry about Torin.
I had to admit the man had been nothing but good for me and I loved him with all my heart. He was my life and I never wanted to be away from him. I regretted the circumstances under which we’d met one another and the sacrifices he’d had to make but I would never feel bad about us falling for one another.
Our relationship had given me a fresh perspective on life, and I truly felt I had something to live for other than taking care of my sister and her children. I loved them to death but that was no way to live. She was a grown woman; I would just have to take the chance that she would be able to take care of herself. Her thirtieth birthday had come and gone in April, and she’d managed to keep to her medication regimen. I had faith she would be okay.
“Yoo-hoo! Anyone home?”
I would recognize Sienna’s voice anywhere but I had to wonder how she’d gotten into Torin’s home when the door was locked and the alarm was set. He never left home without setting the security system, and although I knew the code, I’d not bothered to share it with my sister.
“Wait a minute, love. I’ve got to turn the alarm off before the Rent-A-Cop shows up.” A male voice said with a slight Irish accent before he laughed.
This had to be a sick joke.
My sister hadn’t come calling with Kieran fucking Duffy: unrepentant man-whore if I knew one. The guy was poison, exactly what my sister did not need in her life.
I stood and bound for the door in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a Social Distortion t-shirt. “What the hell are you two doing here? Tor isn’t home, Kieran.”
“Yeah, I know.” He quickly typed in the security code before he faced me, and pulled my sister closer to his side. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me your sister was so hot
?”
I crossed my arms against my chest in a hostile stance. “Perhaps it’s because you two should have never met. How the hell did you meet Sienna anyway?”
“Kieran came by your house looking for you about a month ago, and the rest—as they say—is history.” My sister sidled up to me and kissed my cheek before she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Will you stop being such a nervous ninny? I can take care of myself, Chiara. I’m older than you, remember?”
I shrugged her off of me and glared at the two of them. “I don’t think this situation is funny at all. What. Are. You. Doing. Here? Torin’s place isn’t your personal shag pad. You wanna bone my sister, do it at your own fucking place, Kieran.”
“That’s not why we came by. We wanted to keep you company until Tor came home. I thought it would be a good idea if we all went out to dinner.”
“That’s not gonna happen. Tor’s under a lot of stress at the moment and he usually takes a shower, has something to eat, and crashes when he gets home. This isn’t really the right time for family reunions, if you know what I mean.” I glared at them both, hoping they would catch the hint but neither one of them seemed to pick up my defensive body language or shit attitude for the matter.
“Yeah, I know how he’s doing—I train with him, remember? I also know he needs to cut loose and have some time away from all the stress. I really do think a dinner would be perfect.”
“I think it would be a disaster.”
Kieran walked toward me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
I tightened my arms and guarded my stance further. “What about?”
“Jesus, Chiara, do you have to treat every conversation like a goddamn Spanish Inquisition? Can we talk or not?”
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