Wreck (Bareknuckle Boxing Brotherhood Book 2)

by Nelson, Cara

  “That’s only the tip of it, Ma. There’s more.”

  “What now? A plague of locusts on us?”

  “I have a—a kid.”

  Carla dropped into a kitchen chair, her mouth open. “Is this that nonsense with the Hathaway girl again? That floozy slept with everyone in the building, and the child was Hispanic. There was no way to pin that on you, so don’t you give her a dime!”

  “It’s not the Hathaway girl, Ma. It’s—it’s someone else.”

  “Shea? Is that why I’m to meet you now? You’re expecting my son’s child?” Carla’s eyes narrowed in a nearly exact replica of Kyle’s suspicious glare.

  “No, ma’am,” she faltered.

  “I wish it was only that,” Kyle said. “It’s a woman from a long time back. I don’t even remember her.”

  “Then maybe it’s not your child,” his mother said tightly.

  “Here,” Shea passed the woman her phone with the photo of Kyle and Olive on it.

  She watched Carla’s face change, soften and sadden visibly. “Christ, boy—she’s the image of—“

  “Of you. I know, Ma. There’s no doubting her. She’s my eyes, but the rest of her is Carla Capisci circa 1970. I know it.” He took his mother’s hand almost beseechingly.

  “And she’s no baby, this one. How old?”

  “She’s nine. She has—” He broke off and turned to look out the window at the bleak traffic below.

  “She has polycystic kidney disease, Carla. That’s the only reason the mother sought Kyle out. She needed a medical history for the girl.”

  Carla gave a cry, and tears flooded her steely eyes. A hand flew to her mouth to stop a sob.

  “It’s okay. She’s got a doctor looking after her, and her mother wanted to make sure they had all the information they need—” Shea tried to reassure her, “Kyle—”

  He turned from the window and went to kneel beside his mother.

  “I’m so sorry, Ma.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Olive.”

  “Olive?”

  “It’s after Ashley’s grandmother, who took her in when her parents kicked her out. Olive, the little girl, she’s got a mouth on her and she has her own ideas, you know, like her favorite color is silver,” He smiled a little in spite of himself.

  “You’ve a daughter then, boy, and it’s time and past it that you’d be growing up and being a man. It’s sad I am that you’ve no decent example of fatherhood, and that’s my own fault but you can stand up and do right by this child. Stop punching people and drinking and start going to church.”

  “I was at church on Sunday.”

  “And much good it did you, too. Go to confession now and leave your girlfriend with me,” she said.

  “Will you be okay?” he asked Shea in a whisper. She squeezed his hand and nodded.

  “Now we’re alone, we can talk,” Carla said.

  “I love your son. I’m not perfect. I’m not even close, but I’d do anything to help him.”

  “Then you’ll have to let him help himself. He’s thought all this time he was invincible, and this will hit him hard, having responsibilities. You can’t take over and do it for him.”

  “I won’t. Plus, it’s not like this kid is exactly my biggest fan so she won’t be calling me ‘mommy’ any time soon. Like ever.”

  “Ah, dear Zoe told me you were a smartass, and not to take it personally.”

  “It’s a bad habit. It’s how I protect myself. I know.”

  “So if you know you’re not an easy person, why should you expect my granddaughter to be one?”

  “I don’t know. It might be nice if something were easy for a change.”

  “Nothing ever is, I can tell you. But things get better unexpectedly, that they do. When Aaron and Kyle—those sweet boys are the despair of my life—went to Nevada to fight on television, I thought it was the worst thing that could happen. When they returned, denouncing the fighting life and with that little Zoe in tow, it was like angels had answered a mother’s prayers. There they were talking about kidney specialists, and she was making up fliers and setting up donor drives until we found someone from the church to be a live donor for me…she’s brought Aaron such peace and focus.”

  “I’m not Zoe. I’m sorry, but I’m never going to be this sweet little angel.”

  “Nor am I, girl. What has Kyle told you about his scar?”

  “Which one?”

  “The moon-shaped one on his face.”

  “Some—jerk hit him with a bottle in a fight.”

  “That’s the same thing he told his brother. The jerk who hit him in a fight was his own father, and the boy was six years old at the time. He stepped between his father’s broken bottle and me. I was already down on the floor with my arm broken and my eyes swelling shut, or I’d have killed that man where he stood. I saw the glass go into his skin right beside his eye. My baby’s round cheeks and his blue eyes. It was the worst moment of my life. Kidney failure was nothing to it. God, if I had had a knife! And that’s why I’ll rot in hell no matter what these boys tell you. I’d take a steak knife to that man and gut him if I ever got the chance.” There were furious, painful tears streaming down her face.

  Shea sobbed into her hands, thinking of that small boy with bright blue eyes, stepping between his father and mother and taking the blow with a glass bottle. Her stomach clenched as she tried to take a breath.

  “That’s how strong he is, Shea, and how easily broken, too.”

  “I can’t—”

  “If you’ve come into this thinking to have a good time, you’re months too late for that with Kyle. Don’t mess that boy about. If this is all too heavy for you, move along today before you’ve broken his heart completely. I saw how he looked at you, how he needed your approval and your comfort. Don’t think I’m a naïve old woman who doesn’t know her sons. He has the makings of a great man, that boy does.”

  “I know it, and I want to—I want to protect him.”

  “You can’t. He has to learn this himself.”

  “I’ll stand by him, then. How’s that?”

  “That’s perfect. You remind me a bit too much of myself, but we’ll get along nicely.”

  “That may be the best compliment I’ve ever had, Carla.” Shea smiled.

  “Don’t go easy on him.”

  “I won’t. But I won’t leave him either.”

  “You come back any time, with or without that wastrel boy,” Carla said. “He’s dancing around out in the hallway, trying to decide whether to interrupt the women. Take him home and tell him next time to go into the confessional, not just walk to the church. I know how long it takes.”

  Shea hugged her impulsively and opened the door to see Kyle sheepishly pacing in the hall.

  “Let’s go have some breakfast—I want greasy French toast. I need to carb load after last night,” she said.

  “I want to call Olive.”

  “So call her. I won’t eavesdrop. Much.”

  “I want to see her again, and I want you to come, too.”

  “I work tonight. It’ll have to be before four.”

  “If I can convince Ashley at all.”

  “Let me talk to her. She hates you but maybe she’ll feel sorry for me.”

  “I thought my Ma said I’m supposed to handle it myself.”

  “Don’t tell on me. I just want to get you a foot in the door.”

  ***

  Shea sat in the dingy diner, glad she’d worn her hoodie. Whoever owned the joint had decided to make the place freezing cold instead of having it cleaned, apparently. She watched as Ashley pulled her t-shirt off to reveal a pink cami, dabbing sweat off of herself with a paper napkin.

  “Damn, it’s hot in here,” Ashley grumbled, tossing the napkin on the pile she’d made in the last fifteen minutes. Shea wondered if you could get frostbite on your toes in summer just from air conditioning.

  “I thought it was chilly. Do you want ice cream to cool you off?” />
  “Nah, I’m not hungry,” she said with a restless wave of her hand.

  “I want to talk to you about Kyle. And I know you’re not his biggest fan,” Shea began, struggling to sound conciliatory—wishing with all her heart that she could be like Zoe just this once and win people over so easily.

  Ashley snorted derisively. “Yeah, you might say that. Fuckin’ deadbeat.”

  “Okay, well, now he knows about Olive, he wants to help out more. I’m sure it’s been hard for you all these years,” she said, forcing it out with the sympathetic frown she mastered during RN school.

  “He better. I can get twenty-eight percent of his paycheck for child support and more for the years he didn’t pay,” she said.

  “You’ve really read up on this. That’s good. A woman has to know her own rights. You’ve had to fight to get your daughter what she needs and to get her doctors the information and stuff. What would be a way that Kyle could help?”

  “He could send money and stay the hell out of my way,” Ashley said with finality.

  “You understand I feel differently about this than you do,” Shea said carefully.

  “Yeah, no shit. You’re still sleeping with the guy, and you think if you can get me to give him visitation or something, he’ll keep you around. Good luck. Bastard don’t even remember me.”

  “I’m sleeping with him. You’re right. And for me, that means I care about him, probably too much. He probably will dump me and break my heart…you’re probably right about that, too. But I know he wants to be involved in Olive’s life and help her however he can. And that should help you. With money and with, like, child care and things she needs. He doesn’t want to take her away from you. He’d never want that. A child needs her mother. Period,” Shea said as convincingly as possible.

  “He ain’t getting her.”

  “Of course not. He just wants to see her, not go to court and waste a bunch of money on lawyers’ fees, so they can tell him what to pay and you how much to let him see his kid. You two can figure out what works for you without all that mess.”

  “Does he have a lawyer?” Ashley asked suspiciously, scratching at her arm.

  “No. He hasn’t talked to a lawyer at all,”

  “You really think he isn’t after custody?”

  “I know he’s not. He wants to see Olive and spend time with her and help her out. That’s all.”

  “Why can’t he tell me this shit? Why’s he sending his bitch to do it for him?”

  “I am not, in any sense of the word, his bitch,” Shea said evenly. “He’d tell you if he knew it himself. He’s still coming down from being majorly pissed off over the whole thing. He’s getting there, he’ll be reasonable. He just needs a little time,”

  “He’s had ten years,” Ashley said, fanning herself with a menu while Shea huddled over her hot coffee.

  “No, he’s had about ten minutes, Ashley. I know you’re mad about a lot of things but you can’t not tell him he has a kid and then blame him for not knowing!” Shea insisted, fighting the urge to throw things and stomp out.

  “Fine, but he’d better not blow her off the way he dumped me.”

  “I don’t believe Kyle Dolan would ever turn his back on his daughter. Honestly, one of the first things he ever said to me was ‘I protect my own.’”

  “Sounds like him,” Ashley said grudgingly.

  “I really appreciate you talking to me. I know this wasn’t easy.”

  “This is my kid, you know? Like, for her whole life, she was just mine and now I got to share her…”

  “That has to be weird for you. Listen, if it helps, I’m a nurse and I’ve been reading up on PKD and other pediatric kidney disorders. When she’s with Kyle, well, I can be around to make sure she’s okay, if you like.”

  “I’d like that. I mean, if she’s got to see him at all, you seem like you got some sense and you’d watch out for her.”

  “I will. I’ll watch out for her. Thank you, Ashley,” Shea said, more warmly than she intended to.

  This was hope for Kyle and Olive. This was the only thing she could give him to prove her love. She was so happy that she wanted to hug the sweaty, belligerent woman opposite her in the booth.

  ***

  Kyle’s class had just ended, and her presence had scattered the last of the hopeful hangers-on afterward.

  “She’s already texted me to see if I can pick up Olive from art club on Thursday,” Kyle shook his head in disbelief. “She said her boyfriend normally picks her up, but he’s not feeling good right now and has to rest.”

  “Yeah, Olive said he has a bad back or something, I don’t know.”

  “You’re amazing, lass. She’s going to let me see Olive!”

  “Because it’s convenient for her and I convinced her that you’re there to help.”

  “I don’t want to help Ashley,” He frowned.

  “Sure you do, if it means helping your kid,” Shea corrected. “Now you have to tell Aaron, and then we’ll go get ice cream.”

  “Did you just offer to buy me ice cream if I tell my brother about my kid?”

  “No. You can buy me ice cream because I wrangled with your baby mama,” she teased.

  “Did she really call you my bitch?”

  “It made me like ‘lass’ better, Danny Boy,” Shea said.

  “Now we’ve told Ma, I guess Aaron’s next.”

  “And Zoe. She’s going to kill me for not telling her.”

  “I won’t let her kill you.”

  “She’ll at least take her boots back. That’s going to be bad.”

  “Aw, just act like you haven’t seen them.”

  “Right. So, upstairs?” Shea asked.

  He downed a glass of water and nodded resolutely.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Aaron and Zoe were making dinner together, which meant that Zoe was putting a frozen lasagna in the oven and Aaron was watching ESPN on mute while Zoe chattered on.

  “Hey, guys,” Zoe said, “I’m improving his literacy. I’ve got him speed-reading the captioning on SportsCenter. Next he’ll be on to Tolstoy,” she joked.

  “I can read,” he mumbled.

  “I know that. I just have to take the piss out of you once in a while so I’m not overwhelmed by your manly beauty,” she said, leaning over his shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek. He ruffled her hair affectionately.

  “We need to talk,” Shea said.

  “Oh my God, are you pregnant?” Zoe squealed.

  “No but you’re the second person to ask me that. I’m never wearing this shirt again. I’m burning it later. Do I LOOK pregnant in this?” she demanded.

  “No, no of course not!” Zoe said, “I just got excited. Sorry. What’s the news?”

  “Not a baby. More like a bouncing baby nine-year-old that’s mine,” Kyle said miserably. He pulled up the picture on his phone and held it out mutely as explanation.

  “You’re just finding out now? God, she looks just like your mom!” Zoe said, passing the phone to Aaron.

  “This is bullshit. How do you even know it’s your kid? What does this woman want from you? Did she see the Vegas fight and think this was the money train? Goddammit, Kyle!” Aaron said, dropping the phone on the couch and pacing across the room. He raked a hand through his hair and visibly tried to calm himself.

  “She’s my daughter, Aaron,” Kyle said forcefully. “Her name is Olive. She’s mine, and I’m glad to have her in my life. She’s also your niece, so you’d better get used to it. She’s going to be around here a lot.”

  Shea felt tears spring to her eyes. She hugged him, unable to resist a quick kiss on his mouth as well. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, even after she tried to pull back. He needed her support; she could feel it in every tense muscle in his body. She flattened her palms against his back, trying to tell him that she was there for him, would stand by him.

  “Congratulations,” Zoe said finally. “When do we get to meet her?”


  “Thursday, I hope. I get to pick her up from school. She’s in the art club and she plays soccer,” he said with a smile. Aaron still stood with his back toward them, looking out the window.

  “We have some news, too. We’ve been looking for a place of our own,” Zoe said, “And we think we found somewhere. It’s a little crowded around here, and since business has picked up, we’re going to get an apartment. It’s not far. Just a one-bedroom, but it’ll be ours.”

  “Watch out; she’ll have raspberry pink paint on the walls before the sun sets on your lease signing,” Shea warned Aaron as she hugged Zoe.

  “Is this because I broke the mirror?”

  “It’s not about your Angry Young Man routine, Kyle. You know we love you. We just need our own place now,” Zoe said.

  “So maybe I can make that bedroom a room for Olive,” Kyle said thoughtfully. “Will you help me shop for stuff for her room?”

  Shea nodded. “Goodwill uptown has good stuff. I got a Pottery Barn comforter there once. Good as new,” she remarked.

  “It was PLAID,” Zoe said with disgust.

  “So what? It was soft,” Shea grouched good-naturedly.

  “Okay, ice cream time. Who’s in?” Kyle said, “It’s on me, since I brought the family secret to the party.”

  “No thanks, we have a lasagna,” Zoe said. “You two go on.”

  Out on the pavement and hand-in-hand, Kyle and Shea walked a couple of blocks in total, uncharacteristic silence.

  “I’m glad you told him.”

  “He’s mad at me.”

  “I know.”

  “Time was, he would’ve taken a swing at me,” Kyle shook his head. “I think I’d rather be hit than have him mad and quiet like that.”

  “Hitting gets it out in the open, but it’s not a good answer for settling family conflict. I worked the ER. I know too much about it.”

  “I grew up in it. ‘Til I was ten and the bastard finally took off for good.” he released her hand and cracked his knuckles.

  “I’m sorry. I know a little about that,” she admitted.

  “It’s not his fault. That I’m like this, that I’m a boxer. That I hit people and throw phones and—act up,” Kyle said.

  “I wasn’t giving him credit for the man you are.”

  “My brother told me once that when he was in the ring, he was always fighting our dad, that was who he wanted to hit. It isn’t like that for me. I just like to win,” he shrugged. “I guess Aaron’s the deep one. He used to get drunk and beat on us. Same goddamned story behind about half the doors in that building, I bet.”