Thorn (Carter Kids #2)

by Chloe Walsh

  “When are you guys leaving?” I asked, curious. Checking the time on my phone, I swore loudly when I saw that it was after six in the morning.

  Christ, where the hell had the time gone?

  “Now,” I heard Hope reply as she staggered down the hallway with a pair of sunglasses covering her eyes, and a baseball cap on her head, looking rougher than I’d ever seen her look before. The case she was carrying wasn’t closed properly and items of clothing were hanging out.

  “Come on, Colt, we’re late,” she muttered, shoving her case into her brother’s arms and pushing him towards me.

  Unfolding my arms, I stepped back to let them pass.

  “Yes ma’am,” Colt replied, saluting me before he stepped through the doorway. “Wait, where the fuck is the door?” I heard him ask himself in a puzzled tone before going out of sight.

  “Oh yeah, mister-I-have-no-respect-for-other-people’s-property,” Hope growled, poking me in the chest with her finger before rushing down the hallway after her brother. “You owe me a door.”

  “I’ll get it sorted,” I muttered, forcing myself not to laugh at Hope being all pissy and hung-over.

  When she reached the elevator the end of the hall, Hope swung around and said, “Oh and one more thing, Uncle Noah.”

  “I’m all ears, my favorite niece,” I shot back with a smirk.

  Hope shook her head and pointed her finger at me. “I heard you two doing the horizontal dance and if you hurt her again, I will personally hunt you down and kill you slowly. And I should warn you, Noah, I’m like a ghost – you’ll never see me coming for you.” Smiling, she added in a voice as sweet as honey, “It was good to see you. Don’t be a stranger,” before stepping into the elevator and disappearing from sight.

  Scratching my head, I watched Hope leave, feeling confused and a little fearful for my safety. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I didn’t bother checking who it was before putting it to my ear. Besides, I knew full well who was calling.

  “I’m on my way,” was all I managed to get in before an impressive string of curse words filled my eardrums.

  “You can bet your ass you’re on your way,” was the first coherent sentence my trainer formed, followed quickly by, “If you’re not here in twenty minutes you’re on your own, Messina. I’m not fucking around this time. I mean it…Hang on a second,” Quincy wheezed down the line, “Are you drunk?”

  “No,” I denied before shaking my head and letting out a sigh. “A little bit,” I mumbled after a moment. “Sorry.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass, Messina,” he roared. “Get your ass out of whatever broad’s bed you’re lying in and over to the gym now!”

  WHEN I WAS OUT OF HER APARTMENT BUILDING, and was sitting in the back a cab on the way to the gym, I found myself brooding over the woman whose bed I had just climbed out of.

  Fucking Teagan had been a huge mistake, not because I didn’t want her – I did, badly – but because it only complicated an already messy situation.

  Yeah the sex had been incredible, and moving inside her was like nothing else I had ever experienced before – it was like fucking ecstasy and coming home rolled into one; her soft, pliant body beneath me, taking what I was giving, pulling me in – but emotionally nothing had changed. Teagan still blamed me for our relationship ending, and I still resented her for abandoning me. She had her own twisted beliefs on what happened that night and I had the truth. It wasn’t like I had thought that one night together would miraculously erase seven years of hurt and pain, but I had hoped it would make some of the anger I had inside of me fade.

  It hadn’t.

  I was still hurting – worse now than ever.

  Treacherous.

  Throwing my head back, I thrummed my fingers on my knees, forcing myself to believe that I didn’t care. Forcing myself to believe that it didn’t cut me open. Seeing that tattoo on her spine and knowing it was directed at me hurt like nothing ever had.

  She hadn’t even denied it.

  The woman who hated tattoos more than anyone had permanently inked her skin with a symbol of warning.

  That fucking tattoo had screwed with my head and knocked the hell out of my confidence.

  Teagan really thought that about me.

  She considered me dangerous to her – treacherous – when the truth was I would do anything to protect her.

  Yeah, I was a fuck up in my past, but I turned it around. I was successful now. I’d made something of myself.

  Why couldn’t she see past the guy I used to be and see the man I was now?

  Because the man I was would do anything to keep her out of trouble.

  The man I was now would never take those kinds of risks again.

  Dammit, why was I letting her get inside my head like this?

  I didn’t need this shit in my life anymore. I was a grown ass man and I had seen and experienced too much pain to even contemplate getting back in the ring with that little fruitcake. Teagan Connolly was bratty, childish, and incredibly insecure. She was the worst possible thing for me and I needed to forget about her. In a couple of days, I would be back in the States, and too busy with training to think about anything else.

  Especially not her.

  So why did you follow her home, dipshit, a voice inside my head asked.

  Because I had to find her.

  Because even though she hurt me worse than anyone ever had, and drove me batshit crazy there was just something about her that made it impossible for me to permanently walk away.

  Because there was a fierce desperation inside of me, a driving urge that kept leading me back to her.

  I was lost when it came to that woman.

  There was no escaping her.

  “HOPE?” I CROAKED OUT HOARSELY, when I woke up the Thursday morning, alone on my bedroom floor, naked as the day I was born, and nursing the headache of all hangovers. “I really need a cuddle right now,” I called out weakly. “And some painkillers.”

  When she didn’t answer, I gingerly dragged myself to my feet, and tossed on my nightdress before padding across the hall. Pushing her bedroom door inwards, I saw her empty, unmade bed and frowned.

  Stumbling back into the bathroom, I showered in a semi-conscious state of awareness. It wasn’t until I was out, and had dried myself off and had got dressed for work that I noticed the lipstick scrawled note on the bathroom mirror.

  Gone back to The Hill with Colt.

  Call you later.

  H. X

  “What the hell?”

  Since when had Colton been here?

  Shaking my head in confusion, I headed into the kitchen on a mission to find some painkillers – and a time machine.

  “Whoa,” I exclaimed when my eyes landed on the man standing in my kitchen. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my flat?”

  “Your boyfriend called about getting a door fitted,” he informed me and it was only then that I noticed the freshly painted door hanging where our old one had been.

  “Wow, that’s impressive,” I muttered before stumbling back to his previous statement. “Wait, he’s not my boyfriend.”

  The man shrugged, clearly not bothered about my romantic status.

  “I’m not paying you,” I added, folding my arms across my chest. I couldn’t if I wanted to – my bank account was in the red.

  “It’s already been taken care of,” the man replied before picking up his toolbox and heading over to the door. “The keys are on the counter. You have a good day now,” he told me before leaving.

  When he was gone, I grabbed the new set of keys off the counter before heading out. Even though the last place I wanted to be right now was at work, especially since Liam and I were in a fight, I knew I couldn’t let him pick up my slack.

  How I planned to walk into the gym and pretend I was fine and be professional when my whole world had been turned upside down was beyond me, but I would damn well try.

  On my walk to the gym, I found myself pouring over last n
ight’s events. My behavior towards Noah had been disgraceful. I wasn’t so stubborn that I couldn’t admit that.

  I wondered if I could ever stop being such a manic bitch and just sit down and talk it all out with him like a grownup. I never seemed able to because I could never get past the red-hot flames of rage and desire that took me over whenever I was in his presence.

  When I was with Noah, I lost myself in the moment. My brain checked out. I reacted on instinct, on my feelings.

  Last night everything had gone from bad to worse, to hot and full of passion, to downright awful, in the space of a few short hours. And in the cool light of day, without any alcohol in my bloodstream, I was embarrassed because of my behavior. I was ashamed of how I had let myself down in front of him.

  “Reese fucked me over, Teagan…”

  The sincerity in Noah’s voice when he spoke those words was so pungent that I would have believed him if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes.

  “…Goddammit, you were my whole life, Teagan. Why the fuck would I have touched her when I had you – a future with you?”

  I didn’t know. That’s why it still hurt so badly. All those years had passed and I was still stuck in that moment – absorbing all that pain.

  “You don’t know because you were wrong about me, Teagan. You made a mistake.”

  God, I think I wanted to be wrong about him more than I wanted my next breath. Noah was rude, and bold, and rough around the edges, and he infuriated me more than any other human being on this planet; but I wanted to believe him.

  “You’re wrong about me, Thorn, and one of these days you’re going to realize that.”

  Those words continued to torment me long after I arrived at the gym and received a frosty reception from Liam. They stayed throughout the rest of the morning, and with them, came the creeping feeling of doubt.

  “Tomorrow... When you’re aching and throbbing and fucking shivering all over. Remember who made you feel that way…”

  Noah’s words trickled through my mind, causing me to flush deeply.

  He had made good on that promise.

  I was aching…everywhere.

  I WAS SORE AS SHIT and in a sour mood. No amount of exercise or strenuous activity seemed to ebb the antsy feeling inside of my body. I had been off kilter since I arrived here this morning. I was hung-over and thrumming with barely contained anger.

  By lunchtime, I had knocked out the three sparring partners Quincy had lined up for me. Lucky was the unfortunate bastard currently dodging my blows.

  “You still brooding over your girl, Messina?” His voice broke through my concentration, causing me to falter and drop my guard, giving him the perfect opportunity to sock me in the jaw.

  “Drop it, Lucky,” I growled, shaking off the blow as the sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. I was regretting mentioning to him that I had run into Teagan last night. I was still reeling over what had happened and I didn’t need his two cents.

  Resuming my rhythm, I danced around on the mat, twisting and jabbing, throwing uppercuts and upsets before landing a sweet left hook to his jaw.

  “You guys talking about the smoking hot brunette Noah chased out of the bar last night?” Quincy piped up from outside the ring. “Don’t blame you one bit for chasing down a woman like that, Messina. Hmm…”

  Faking a left hook, I fell back on my left foot before hitting Lucky in the jaw with straight jab from my right. Fucker went down like a deflated balloon.

  “What the hell, Noah,” he groaned, sprawled out on the flat of his back.

  “What the hell is right, dipshit,” I growled, standing over my ex-cellmate. “That’s my niece you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t fucking say it,” he groaned, taking my outstretched hand and climbing unsteadily to his feet. “And another thing, I can’t believe you fucked her bareback.”

  “Dammit to hell, man. I told you that in confidence,” I snarled. Waiting until he was steady on his feet, I socked him again in the mouth.

  “Look around dipshit,” Lucky, never one to mince words, pointed out without a second’s hesitation, as he rubbed his chin.

  I did and realized Quincy had moved to the far end of the room and was on the phone.

  “I told you what happened,” I hissed in a low tone. “I had too much to drink and got caught up in the fucking moment.” You did it because you want to keep her and you’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen, a niggling voice inside my mind taunted me.

  Shaking my head, I forced the thought down quickly, refusing to acknowledge to my brain what my sub-conscience knew was true. “Just drop it.”

  “And if she ends up pregnant?” he stated without any qualms. “Getting caught up in the ‘moment’ just might have cost you eighteen years to life, Noah. What do you think about that?”

  “Do I look like the kind of man who walks away from his responsibilities?” I shot back heatedly, glaring at my friend. “Just do yourself a favor, Lucky,” I growled, spotting Quincy returning out of the corner of my eye. “And mind your own damn business.”

  “Alright you two pussies, get back to work,” Quincy ordered. “Noah; I wanna see you work more on your right hook. You may be southpaw, but I want you fighting with both.”

  “I thought this was supposed to be winding down period,” Lucky groaned, falling into stance once more. “You did win last night, right? Or was I watching a different fight?”

  “That’s enough out of you, Lippy,” Quincy shot back, red-faced. “Dedication is the breakfast of champions.” He turned his attention to me and barked, “I don’t give a fuck if you’re more comfortable with your left, Messina. That right hook of yours is a weakness.”

  “Come on in here and I’ll show you how weak it is,” I muttered under my breath before getting back to work.

  THE REST OF THE DAY PASSED without a word from Noah, and by five o clock that evening, I couldn’t take another second of silence. My nerves were frazzled and I was all out of patience. I had questions, a bazillion of them, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to function properly until I got the answers.

  “I’m finishing up,” I told Liam when I stalked into the office and grabbed my bag and hoodie that evening.

  “Are you heading to Krash Saturday night for Steph’s thirtieth-fifth birthday?” he asked me nervously, following me out of the office and through the gym. “You’re invited too.”

  “I don’t know,” I told him, not really paying attention. I didn’t care whose birthday it was and Stephanie Murphy was Liam’s cougar friend, not mine. I had only met the woman a half dozen times on nights out. I barely classed her as an acquaintance. And Liam was on my shit list.

  My only focus was seeing Noah again, and well, the rest I would figure out when I saw him. I rushed out of the office and through the gym; the urgency I had inside me to see Noah was like a driving force, pushing me out of my comfort zone, compelling me to go to him.

  I was halfway down the metal staircase when I heard Liam calling out my name. Reluctantly, I stopped and inhaled a calming breath before turning around.

  Liam was delaying me and it was pissing me off.

  “Come out Saturday night,” he repeated. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “About what?”

  He sighed heavily. “I was a dick yesterday. I want to make it up to you.”

  Shaking my head, confused and uninterested, I mumbled, “yeah, fine. Text me the details,” before turning on my heel and rushing off.

  There was only one gym on this side of the city that was decked out with the caliber of equipment and security that a prized MFA fighter like Noah would require. And I would’ve bet my last fiver that was where I would find him.

  MARCHING THROUGH THE ENTRANCE of Frankie’s Gym several pairs of eyes landed on my face, but I didn’t care. I walked straight past the reception desk that was crowded by women dressed like freaking hookers and numerous photographers and reporters skulking aroun
d. Obviously they had come to the same conclusion I had and were looking for Noah.

  The man on the desk stood up when he watched me stalk past but quickly sat down again when he noticed my attire. I hadn’t bothered changing out of my work clothes that consisted of skintight, three quarter length black gym pants and a yellow t-shirt and I was really grateful that I blended in.

  There was an elevator, but I chose to take the back staircase instead. I had a bad omen when it came to elevators in gyms. Besides, I knew where I was going. I had been here several times in the last six months trying to poach their members. The gym was on the first floor. The pool was on the ground floor. Noah wouldn’t be in any of those places. No, he would be in the underground boxing ring.

  White painted walls and cold concrete floors greeted me the minute I stepped out of the stairwell and into the room, and my eyes immediately honed in on Noah. It wasn’t hard to point him out. A six feet four inches, tattooed-covered, sexy as hell fighter kind of stood out against the backdrop of middle-aged paunchy dudes. He was standing in the center of the ring sparring with that blonde man I was used to seeing with him on the television every fight night.

  “Whoa, little lady, mind stepping back?” The tall broad, bald-headed man standing outside of the ring with a stopwatch in his hand told me when I approached. I recognized him from the magazine’s I’d read. His name was Quinn Jones and the man was MFA royalty. “This is no place for a little thing like you.”

  “Yes,” I shot back heatedly. “As a matter of fact, I do mind.” Turning my attention to the ring, I cleared my throat and called out, “what did you mean when you said she took advantage of you?”

  “Not here, Thorn,” Noah growled, as he continued to spar with the blonde guy, not breaking his stride to look in my direction.

  Refusing to be ignored, I walked over to the half opened cupboard, removed a pair of gloves and pulled them on before marching back to the ring and climbing in.

  Tapping Noah on the shoulder when I reached him, I stood up as tall as I could and said, “now you can spar with me, or you can talk to me,” I told him, “but you cannot ignore me.”