Wreck (Bareknuckle Boxing Brotherhood Book 2)

by Nelson, Cara

  “What do you have to be nervous about?”

  “I like you. I’m not comfortable liking you. You were supposed to be hot and dumb as a rock and ready to take me to bed. You’re too dangerous this way.”

  “That was insulting.”

  “But it was a compliment.”

  “That was the shittiest compliment I ever heard. I’ve got a lot going on right now so you may need to go easy on me.”

  “Want to tell me what’s going on? I’m practically a total stranger, so I can give you an outside perspective. Plus, since I like you too much to have a one-off and I have zero interest in male friends, it’s unlikely we’ll ever see each other again.”

  “You won’t tell Zoe?”

  “Is it about Aaron?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because if it was about Aaron, she’d have a right to know. Otherwise, your business is your business, so no, I won’t tell anyone.”

  Kyle leaned forward across the table conspiratorially. The v-neck of his t-shirt gapped, and she could see coils of black ink, the edges of what looked to be a massive tribal tattoo curling across the right shoulder and down his chest. She had to concentrate on not craning her neck for a better look.

  “There’s two things, or three, I guess. You know how I quit fighting after Vegas because Aaron wanted to quit and I got him into this?”

  “Yeah, Zoe filled me in. He wanted to take his life in a more constructive direction, and you backed him up. Classy and loyal, I have to say.”

  “Thanks. Well, don’t give me credit yet. I’m still fighting; I just took it underground. I can’t give it up. The rush, the dominance— it’s hard to get away from it. The second thing is…I won a fight at Wreck, that’s a bare knuckle club down on Walnut, and this woman came out of the crowd and told me we had to talk.”

  “That’s never good.”

  “She wanted to know my medical history.”

  “Should I have opened with that line? Asked if your family has a history of prostate cancer or diabetes? Way to pick up a guy.”

  “This girl, Ashley, she says we have a kid together. That we hooked up back when I was fighting on my fake ID at seventeen. She got pregnant, and now this kid that’s supposedly mine is sick.”

  “Wow. That’s a lot to hit someone with. What’d you do?”

  “I broke her phone. I yelled at her and told her I didn’t have any money, so not to try to blackmail me.”

  “That’s lovely. Maybe don’t expect a Father’s Day card this year after that routine.”

  “I don’t want a card. I don’t want any part of this stupid scam. I don’t even know what she wants.”

  “Sounds like she wants your medical history, Kyle, any chance it’s your kid?”

  “There’s a chance. I didn’t exactly keep track of all the girls I slept with back in the beginning. I mean I always used protection, but I guess it could happen.”

  “Yeah, it can. Have you seen the kid?”

  “Just her picture. She looks…like my mom. She looks like Carla Capisci Dolan as a child. Same blue eyes as me; I mean, the picture of her with a soccer ball…you sub in a bicycle, and it’s practically the same as a photo I’ve seen of my mom from the seventies.”

  “So she is yours, and you’re in denial?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, this woman could be scamming me.”

  “For what? Family medical information? Is she going to blackmail you with your secret past with athlete’s foot? Be serious. This is probably real, and this kid may need your help.”

  “What am I supposed to do when this just falls in my lap after a decade?”

  “What do you think you want? What would be the best thing that could happen?”

  “I might know something that could help her doctors figure out what’s wrong. I might…have a daughter. Or maybe she hates me because I’ve never been there for her, and she has a stepfather who’s probably her dad now. And nothing I know will help, and I just get rejected by some kid I didn’t even know I had. I don’t know what I want except for this to go away.”

  “You can’t make it unhappen. You’re going to have to call this woman. Do you know how to get in touch with her?”

  “Yeah,” he rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable, “and I probably ought to replace her phone. Since I broke it. I feel shitty about that part, actually.”

  “If you’re going to call her, aren’t you hoping she’s already replaced the phone?”

  “Your logic is getting on my nerves. I’m a winner, I’ve always known that. This isn’t the sort of thing that happens to me. I’m out of my depth here.”

  “You’re a winner? What about losing in Vegas last fall?”

  “That was a mistake. But I’m no quitter, and I’ll make things right. I’m bound to come out on top.”

  “So is it a mistake that you maybe got somebody pregnant a long time ago, too?”

  “No way. Kids are never a mistake. It’s just a speed bump. I have to find a way over it or around it.”

  “You are like Teflon, Dolan. Nothing slows you down. Do you think any of this—losing the big fight, getting caught out with an unplanned pregnancy…might have something to do with you and your choices?”

  “Well, sure. Shit hits everybody’s fan, pardon my salty language, lass. It’s a numbers game, I guess. I’m bound to take a hit once in a while. Doesn’t mean I’m not destined to be a winner. Maybe I shouldn’t screw every girl I have a beer with.” He gave a rueful laugh.

  “Seriously, you slept with every girl you had a beer with?” Shea stared in disbelief.

  “Not every girl, but most of them.” He shrugged, a naughty grin belying his supposed changing ways.

  “Good thing for me you made that resolution, because I’d already decided against screwing you. It would’ve been awkward to have to Tase you if you came on too strong, Danny Boy.”

  “I don’t come on too strong, lass. It’s only my natural magnetism. The ladies flock to me.”

  “Couldn’t have anything to do with your ego and the fact you prance around in your skivvies, beating people up?”

  “A real man never prances. As for my ego, I’ve a healthy confidence in my appeal, as my ancestors did before me.”

  “Irish gigolos?”

  “Hardly. I come from a long line of gamblers, bootleggers and the like. Born with a rascal appeal.”

  He said it with a wink, but she wondered if he was actually serious. The guy had no self-esteem problem, that was for damn sure. Shea couldn’t suppress an eye roll. “I’m going to need some wading boots for all your—blarney,” she said.

  “So many changes afoot, and an Irishman tends toward melancholy…” he said, stretching and crossing his arms behind his head comfortably.

  “I think on that note, I’ll call it a night, Dolan. Thanks for the beer and the entertainment. I hope everything turns out the way you want it to,” she said.

  “Let me walk you to your car, at least.”

  Shea was startled how quickly, how deftly he moved from tipping back his wooden chair at a lazy angle to standing beside her, ready to protect her on the stroll to her vehicle. He slung an arm around her shoulders, friendly-like, overwhelming her with a dizzying dose of his pheromones. A smell that was quintessentially Kyle, something clean and spicy and intoxicating. The weight of his lean muscled arm around her stirred sparks that tingled all over her skin. She tried to make her way to the door without embarrassing herself, but managed to stumble over a rough floorboard. Kyle steadied her with his arm, keeping her from pitching face-first into a pile of peanut shells.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “You’ve done me a world of good tonight,” he said expansively, kissing her head with easy affection.

  That was what infuriated her about him, she decided; the ease with which he did everything. How smoothly he went from flirting to friendly, his voice dropping as he spoke disarmingly frank words to her, and then rising to a sizzling growl as he told her she’d done him
a world of good. He wasn’t the least bit awkward, unsure. It riled her and drew her in at the same time. She wanted to grab a fistful of his t-shirt and kiss him stupid. Strip away his charm, his effortless energy, until she had him raw and real. She wanted to get under his skin the way he’d gotten under hers.

  “I didn’t drive. I walked. I live close by.”

  “No reason I can’t walk you home,” he said affably, unruffled.

  “No reason apart from the fact that you’ll try to shag me.”

  “Ah, but haven’t you heard I’m a changed man now? No more shagging every pretty young thing that has a drink with me. I may be a father. Time to be a stand-up guy and all, lass.”

  “Do you just call me lass to annoy me with your exaggerated Irish-ness? Because it’s more leprechaun than Liam Neeson,” Shea said.

  “I’ll not believe you about that,” he said, “lass.”

  “Very subtle. So in the interest of irritating one another, are you going to call Ashley and find out about your daughter?”

  “That I will, I suppose. Makes me dread tomorrow a bit. Do you ever dread tomorrow, Shea?”

  “Every damn night,” she admitted.

  “Hate your job, then?”

  “No. I’m good at my job. I hate that my job is all there is; my job and a few friends I see maybe once a month. Do you have to be forty to be a crazy cat lady? Because that means I have another fifteen years of this dating crap before I can chuck it all and get some rescue kittens and give up.”

  “You’re hardly at your last prayers.”

  “Clubfoot spinster. Trust me,” she said.

  “Not even close.”

  “I may not look it, but the boots hide the clubfoot,” she teased.

  “Far too appealing to be a spinster if you don’t like it. I figured you for a heartbroken man-hater who hooks up with vengeance.”

  “I’m not heartbroken, so you’re wrong on that count. And I like sex. I see no reason to be ashamed of that. But I don’t want the misery that comes from getting tangled up with someone else’s life. Being lonely, I guess, is the price I pay for playing it safe.”

  “If you’re ever lonely, give me a call, lass. I’ll keep you company,” She was suddenly aware of the heat of his body, the sync of their footsteps on the sidewalk, the pull of how they matched each other’s rhythms in walking and conversation. She dropped her eyes, staring at cracks in the sidewalk until she slowed her breathing.

  “You’re the kind of trouble I don’t need. I might as well invite a flamethrower to a fire safety class.”

  “You and your metaphors,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “It was a simile. I used ‘as’.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m an illegal Mexican pepper and a flamethrower. At least you think I’m hot. I haven’t lost my touch.”

  “We’re here. This is my building. Thanks for the walk. It was confusing.”

  “But never boring. The best kind of walk,” he said.

  He didn’t hug her, didn’t kiss her. Kyle just sort of rubbed his hand against her neck as he withdrew his arm from her shoulders. She went inside, her hand going involuntarily to the spot on her neck beneath her hair where his hand had brushed her skin.

  CHAPTER 3—BOSTON, KYLE

  Kyle bluffed his way through breakfast with his mother, scarfing pancakes and sausage and feigning the sunny demeanor she’d come to expect from him.

  “This is a rare treat for me, boy. That low carb diet is from the devil, I can tell you.”

  “I still don’t get why they told you to go on a diet. You lost so much weight when you were sick—”

  “The anti-rejection drugs cause weight gain. Puts me at risk for more diabetes problems. Good thing is, the kidney they gave me hasn’t shown signs of PKD.”

  “I thought your problems were all because of the diabetes,” he said, confused.

  “Ah, you don’t want to be wasting your time hearing me talk about kidneys,” she protested.

  “I’m interested, Ma. I want to know all about it.”

  “All right, we’re being the good son today and not the prodigal? Very well then. The diabetes complicated things, but I always had kidney infections and the like from the polycystic disease, from the time I had you and your brother on, and anemia to go with it.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma. I want things to be better for you from now on.”

  “They already are. My blood counts are good, and as long as I keep clear of infection and watch my diet, it’s a new day, praise the Lord.”

  “The Lord and Aaron Dolan, you mean,” he said cheekily. “’T’was his bounty from that tournament got you into the specialist.”

  “I know you and your brother worked hard to get to the top in that wretched fight, but the credit is to the Lord alone. You’ll find yourself in trouble trying to take the glory for yourself and your kin.”

  “I think sugar makes you preach, Ma,” he said with an affable grin.

  “And I think I let you get away with too much after your father left, and it’s made you cocky. I do thank the Lord every night that I got that kidney transplant, but I thank Him first that he got you and your brother out of fighting. It was the great heartbreak of my life,” she said, taking his scarred hand in hers.

  Carla Dolan looked solemnly in her elder son’s blue eyes and he shied away. Kyle couldn’t help but think of the hell his mother had been through, first at his father’s hands and then from kidney disease and poverty. She might have a grandchild she didn’t even know. That child might have a fate just like hers…to be poor and sick, and have no one to help her. Grimacing, he stood.

  “Ma, if you’ll let me see you home, I need to be getting on to work now,” he said.

  “It’s glad I am that Zoe has put the class schedule online so I know when you’re lying to me, boy,” she said wryly. “You’ve not a class to teach until one.”

  “True enough, but I’ve a workout and some paperwork to complete.”

  “There’s no such thing as paperwork any longer. It’s all pdf files.”

  “That girlfriend of my brother’s is nothing but a thorn in my side,” he chuckled. “Little redheaded snitch.”

  “She’s the little sister you never had, and she looks after me like she’s my own. Now don’t say a word against Zoe, even in jest, you cheeky boy,” his mother said sternly, her face an indulgent contradiction to her words.

  “I’ve a phone call to make, then, if you insist upon full disclosure.”

  “I should have insisted upon it more when you were growing up so I’d have less trouble with you now,” she said fondly. “Now go make your phone call, and I’ll wait here and nurse my coffee with real cream in it.”

  “I’ll wait for you to finish, but it won’t be a quick call. And it’s one to be kept private,”

  “Is it a girl?” she teased. “Am I to live to see you wed and sire a grandchild, or did you prolong my life with the transplant only to taunt me?”

  “Far be it from me to deny a lovely lady her heart’s desire,” he grinned. “I shall set to work procreating this very day, if you wish.”

  “Lord, boy, you’ll be the death of me yet. Of course I don’t want you to go impregnate some hussy from your classes. Not that any of the girls in our building could ever keep their knees together when you were in high school, and I doubt that’s changed.”

  “Ah, but more’s changed than you realize,” he said. “I’ve curbed my profligate ways.”

  “And God save us all that I read you Shakespeare when you were too young to resist, and you bandy about words like ‘profligate’…adding to your deadly charm. The girls have no chance against you,” she said with something near to a giggle.

  “It does my heart good to hear you laugh and see the bloom back in your cheeks,” he said sincerely.

  “And it does my heart good to see your mother still gets a share of your blarney even now.”

  “I stand accused of falsehood to the one and only woman who has
my heart?” he said with affected offense.

  “I’d be a fool not to doubt an Irishman’s flattery, boy. I learned that lesson hard,” she said with an edge of bitterness to her voice. “I’ll make my way home. I’m no invalid. You go on to work or whatever you call it.”

  Kyle kissed her cheek and left. He sat in his car and dialed the number from the sticky note he’d wadded up and stuffed in his cupholder.

  “Yeah?”

  “Ashley?” he said when her cigarette-roughened voice answered. “It’s Kyle Dolan. I called about Olive. Can you tell me what’s wrong with her?”

  “Lots of kidney infections, and they think she’s anemic. I have to overfeed her, make her drink these supplement shakes so she grows. Any of that in your family?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

  “There’s your DNA test, if the eyes weren’t enough to go on.”

  “I’m sorry I broke your phone.”

  “Is that Kyle Dolan apologizing?” she said rudely.

  “As you say,” he sighed. “I want to see Olive. Meet her, get to know her. I’ll get you all the medical history you need. When can I see her?”

  “You can’t. That’s final. She has a mother and father. She doesn’t need you turning her life upside down, the way you did mine. The best thing you can do is give me your email address and I’ll send you a medical form to fill out. Then you get out of our lives and lose my number. Got it?”

  “No. No deal.”

  “You would withhold health information that puts your child at risk just to use as leverage against me?”

  “How dare you assume I’d want nothing to do with my daughter?”

  “She’s YOUR daughter now? Are you the one who got kicked out of your house and gave birth on a gurney in the ER hallway, and worked two jobs to support her and pay for the apartment in the projects? Where the fuck were you?”

  “I was in the dark, where you kept me, Ashley. I would have helped. But the past is past, and I can do better for her now,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “You’re still a back-alley brawler, Kyle, and not someone—” she paused to cough, “I want in my kid’s life. If I didn’t need to know about your kidneys—”