Page 72 of After Indigo Irish Nights
Mary Kincaid was intent on causing more trouble. Right before Declan’s first fight too, which the men planned on using as an opportunity to press their agenda for the arts center.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
The weathered clock in the club told him how much time he had until his first fight.
Three hours.
Too damn long.
His stomach muscles were too tense as he tapped the speed bag, warming up. They still had the club to themselves, and he would use every minute until Paul Keane and his crew arrived before heading to the locker room. He needed his body to fall into a rhythm if he was going to win tonight. He knew that.
He modulated his breathing with his punches and slowed everything down, trying not to look at the rows of worn metal chairs arranged around the boxing ring for the people who’d bought tickets. The fight was sold out. A hundred people were coming to watch.
He was going to be sick.
No, he wasn’t. That would only make his dad and the others start clucking like hens. He drank the last of his orange juice and chewed on the last of his candy bar. Then he swallowed his nerves and kept punching, searching for that calm place inside him.
An image of Kathleen rose in his mind, of her smiling at him in her favorite Patriots sweatshirt and those little shorts. She’d told him only this morning that her brothers had told her she was a lucky charm for fighters because her initials were KO—knock out.
He couldn’t wait to find her after the fight and kiss her senseless. She was so supportive, his Kathleen.
She’d even shown him those “stupid criminal” videos earlier to help distract him. After this morning, he was really looking forward to meeting her brothers. How could you not like someone who sent around “stupid criminal” videos? They were greatcraic. He’d already shared a few with his friends, and they’d distracted him with some happy texting.
Then there was that tender look Kathleen had given him when she’d declared he was now part of the “stupid criminal” video club—the one she shared with her family. Whenever he thought about that look, it helped ease the unrelenting tension in his chest. It made him feel like they’d started crossing that bridge they’d talked about.
His fists seemed to soften in his gloves. He tapped the bag more easily as peace rippled through his chest.
Was it any wonder he was in love with her?
He frowned as someone’s phone rang shrilly, like an alarm. Since most of the people he knew only used their phones for emergencies, he knew something was wrong.
Donal perked up, then rushed to his phone and picked up the call as everyone fell silent. His mouth went flat as he muttered and hung up.
Declan paused in hitting the speed bag. “What’s wrong?”
Donal’s bruised jaw was one hard line. “Hell of a time for this, but that might be intentional. Bets called to say Mary Kincaid’s son showed up at Kathleen’s shed. He made some threats.”
His heart in his throat, Declan strode over to the older man with the others, his shoes slapping on the concrete floor. Owen Kincaid had always been a bully, the sort who would pick a fight and then hide in his mother’s skirts afterward and plead innocence. He was a gutless coward. But still dangerous. “Is she all right?”
“She’s a tough one and says she’s fine,” Donal said, holding his gaze. “Owen only shot his mouth off, thank God.”
Declan slumped in relief. They all knew Owen had put his hands on women before, although none of them had ever named him. The villagers still knew the culprit. “Where is she?”
“At Bets’ place. I’m headed there to discuss things. Declan, you focus on the fight. We’ll take care of this.”
The answer came from his gut:no.
She’d be upset. There was no way in hell he was staying here. “I’m coming with you. I need to make sure she’s okay.”
They looked at him, their faces lined with concern.
“There’s time,” he added.
He hadn’t officially told any of them how important she was to him. He supposed that’s what he was doing now.
“We’ll make it.” He let out a tense breath. “Delay the fight if you must.”
