Page 23 of Broken Blood Ties

I yell for her, and she snaps her face to mine. Wait. Her face. How can I see she’s looking at me? I struggle to keep from moving, to still her body’s outline in my mind.

A hand drags up her thigh, over the curve of her hip and up to her mouth. Her lips. I can see her lips. They’re pink and plump, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from releasing a moan.

I trace her lips over and over, desperate to memorize them. There’s no nose, no cheeks, and where her eyes should be, there are two pitch -black sockets. It sounds horrific, but it’s like my body fills her in for me.

I release a breath, resigned that this is all I’m going to get. There’s a sting to the side of my face and her image flickers. But not before …

Her eyes.

A deep brown with a sheen of metallic bronze. The hue is intense and …

And …

The ache of familiarity punctuates another slap to my face, and the blackness gives way to glaring lights. A blurry red-faced Cormac stands over me silently yelling. The sounds of the makeshift arena slowly wash back over me while the shadowed figure ripples away. The stench of pungent moldy odors causes me to wrinkle my nose, and I grimace at the pain in my face.

“—has got to stop, Kieran! Ye’re the bloody boss. Stop acting like a bleeding maggot.”

I blink up at him hunched over me. The bite of concrete is cold against my legs, as I’ve somehow collapsed to the ground, and the chants of the crowd from earlier have dulled to murmurs.

Cormac and Katsuro both reach to pull me up. Katsuro turns to my ear. “I didn’t think I knocked you out. What happened?”

My heart pounds in my chest and I shrug, playing it off as a one-off chancer that just earned him the win tonight.

They practically drag me to the warm-up area and dump me onto the bench. Katsuro moves back toward the ring where Joe announces him as the winner, and while most of the crowd is pumped, there are a few groaning at the win since they bet on me.

Someone tosses an ice pack into my lap, and I look up through the pain to see Cormac pacing back and forth. His hands are in his rusty hair, his thin nose flaring as he huffs out an annoyed sigh.

“I don’t like it. The men don’t like it. Let Finn fight. Callum. Me. Anyone but ye.”

I raise the ice pack to under my chin where the agony of Katsuro’s uppercut is tender and puffy. Rolls of sweat migrate down my ass crack and I’m as over this night as I’ll ever be.

“I’m serious, Kieran. This shite’s gotta stop.”

Suddenly, I’m on my feet. I ignore the scraping feeling under my skin between my ribs, and with my free hand, I grab the collar of Cormac’s suit and twist.

“Ye’ve got a lot of nerve to talk to me like that. I don’t care who ye are. This is me bloody organization. Back the hell off.” I release his shirt, then toss the ice pack in his direction before sluggishly walking to the locker room to change.

I need to get home to Aoife. Guilt rides me as I think about how I gave up another Wednesday to chase some high instead of spending time with her. I need to do better. Find a better balance. But I’m exhausted and this parenthood thing I’m doing alone is taxing.

Damn, I’m horrible.

Summer’s voicemail flickers to life in my mind and I repeat her words. It seems she might not have been so far off about me after all.

I swing open the door to the vacant locker room, silently rejoicing there’s not a single person here. I rear back and slam my fist into the nearest metal locker, at this point numb to any more soreness. A tiny trickle of warmth floods the corner of my eye, and I punch again to keep any more tears from coming.

I saw her. And like a drug, the high from my hit is wearing off. I’m left with an emptiness I can’t describe.

There’s not a day that goes by I don’t wish I could give Aoife more. More of a family unit. The older I get, the more it seems impossible. Improbable.

Who could want me in this life, in my world? I certainly don’t have the heart to lure women into this business for my own personal satisfaction. I don’t want Aoife in this world. How could I expect to drag another person I love into it?

So I grapple with the woman from the shadows. Pretending that my insane drive to see her is just that, insane. When really, deep down, she’s the vision of what I’ll never have.

Chapter7

Summer

Iwatch Aoife from my desk. Head down, her strawberry-blonde hair falls around her face. She studies the pack of Skittles on the table, eyes shifting back and forth like she’s unsure if she should open it. Vibrant blue eyes, that must be inherited from her mother, are a lifeless gray, and my heart breaks for her.

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