12 Rounds (21 page)

At the time, I was a little disheartened. Then again, I know I cared about Analee, but I know I didn’t love her. I cared about her, she was my first, but love to me equals more than hooking up several times.  Love goes deeper than that and lasts longer.

Plus, it bothers me that some girls and men can be so fickle. It bothers me that when in a relationship people can just toss their partner aside like garbage and do intimate things with others behind their backs. I’m not cool with cheating. For either party. I think my parents provided a solid example of a loving relationship. Because even though my da met his demise early on my Ma never dated after that, and she’d always say it was because she didn’t think she’d ever experience the kind of love she had with my da twice in her life.

She’d say it was rare.

One of a kind.

Something that was so special she was lucky enough to experience it at least once.

See Ma.

I didn’t ignore everything you ever told me.

It just takes that one person in your life to bring out those kinds of feelings.

And maybe…

Just maybe.

I might have found her.

Chapter Twenty Six

~Connie~

Connie’s eyes were glued to the flat screen television mounted on his wall above his fireplace as the commentators for the Reilly/Mullins fight speculated on who each other thought would take home the gold belt.

Out of the four commentators, three thought Sean would hold the title of middle weight boxing champion of the world yet again.

Not bad odds, Connie thought.

Then again, the guys voicing their opinions were only commentators. Their opinions didn’t really count.

The door to his penthouse apartment slammed shut, but Connie didn’t even bother to look and see who it was. He knew it was Aidan and he hoped that Aidan had brought some news back from Connecticut with him.

Aidan plopped down across from his gray Italian leather sofa on the matching loveseat and crossed his legs. Connie waited a second for him to talk then without taking his eyes of the television screen asked, “Well, what did you get?”

“Nothing,” Aidan replied. “The girl is clean. She goes to class. Spends time with that fellow of hers. I even watched her at the campus library.” Aidan stretched his arm out along the length of the loveseat. “I think you’ve lost your touch.”

Connie scoffed and rolled his eyes over to Aidan’s. “I have not.” The first thing a rat shows when they know they’ve been found out is fear. He knew he saw fear in Teagan’s eyes the day he happened upon her at the Fifth Street Diner. “We’ll just have to resort to other methods.”

Aidan sighed then pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. Connie knew he hated being the go-to guy. He hated being the one to have to travel, watch people, and then report back to Connie. Aidan could go ahead and blame himself if he wanted to complain about it. If he didn’t want to be errand boy for things like this he should have never mentioned that he used to be a cop. “What methods are going to suggest that we use?” Aidan shifted in his spot, bringing his elbows to his knees. “I won’t harm the girl.”

That was bold of him. Even though Connie was certain he wouldn’t harm the girl—yet—that was the first time Aidan had ever spoken out to him. He had always been a loyal lap dog and had done  what he had been told to. Connie slanted his eyes at the ginger and seriously considered keeping him on a shorter leash because of Aidan speaking to him that way. “I wasn’t going to suggest you harm the girl,” Connie barked out. “I was going to suggest tapping her phone line.”

There was only so much you could learn about watching a person from a far. If you wanted the intimate details of their life you had to go farther. Dig deeper. Connie was certain by tapping Teagan’s phone he’d get all the answers he was looking for. He’d be able to pinpoint that she was the rat for sure and not just base it on a hunch.

Aidan stood slowly and walked to  the door as Connie’s eyes averted back to the television screen. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked in a cool, calm voice.

“You just told me to go tap the girl’s phone line.”

“I didn’t mean now.” Connie beckoned him over with a flit of his finger. “Come watch the fight. You can leave first thing in the morning.”

Aidan walked back over to the loveseat and sat back down. His eyes followed Connie’s to the television screen. “I see the odds are in the boy-o’s favor.”

“Indeed they are my friend,” Connie chuckled. “You know what that means?”

Aidan narrowed his eyes. “You bet on the fight, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“How much?”

“Twenty large.”

“How much will you gain if he wins?”

“Triple that,” Connie replied with a twisted smile.

Aidan shook his head. “Don’t you have enough money?”

Connie had millions of dollars. Some from legal transactions like real estate, ownership of bars and restaraunts, but he had plenty more from illegal transactions. Bribes, selling narcotics, stealing. He settled into his spot on the couch further and rolled his eyes towards his wing man, a wicked gleam sparkling in his pair of emerald eyes. “A man can never have too much money, Aidan.”

Silence.

Then Aidan changed the subject. “What are you going to do about Sean?”

His out of the blue question puzzled Connie. Mainly because he had no idea what Aidan was referring to. “What do you mean what am I going to do about Sean?”

“When he finds out.”

Connie faced Aidan with an arched eyebrow. “About?”

“Teagan.”

His mouth fell open, but he closed it quickly. Aidan threw him for a loop. For the first time ever, he didn’t have an answer so he simply stated, “We’ll figure that out after we listen to her calls.”

The truth was Connie needed Sean more than Sean needed him. He needed him to take this organization to the next level. He needed him to help keep the members of the brotherhood in check. The boy-o had friends, he had boxing. He had people who supported him, respected him, loved him. Connie was certain he had respect from the members of the brotherhood, but only because they feared him. Other than that, he had no one. Well except for maybe Aidan. Maybe. Sure Aidan was loyal now, but if something eventually went down with Teagan Reilly he wasn’t so sure that Aidan would have his back. He’d already voiced his opinion on not wanting to harm the girl if that’s what had to be done.

Connie groaned with he thought of the outcome of this situation. And the outcome for Teagan would most likely be the same outcome as her father’s.

 But as far as Sean went, he figured that he could somehow weave a web of lies involving Teagan being the rat that Sean would believe.

Possibly.

Maybe.

50/50.

Not likely.

No.

Not a shot in hell.

The more Connie thought about it, the more he realized the odds in these circumstances were not in his favor.

Chapter Twenty Seven

~Sean~

The Fighter
  blasts through my ear buds and puts me in the zone. I hang my head down, my elbows on my knees as the melody moves through me. And I bob my head along with the beat.

      This song is relatively new, but it feels like my anthem. I wish I would have told Joe to have them play it when I walk out.

 If I didn’t have my ear buds in I know that I’d be able to hear the roar of the crowd bleeding through the walls.

I’m kind of glad I can’t though. At the moment, I’m so pissed that I can’t see straight. Normally when I hear the crowd screaming my name I feel amped up. I feel a rush of adrenaline burst through me.

But not today.

Today I feel like fighting dirty. I feel like taking Avery Mullins face in both of my hands and sending his nose through his brain with my knee cap. Do you believe the jack ass accused me of taking self-enhancing drugs? Right before the fucking fight?

It was during our weigh in, and might I add, I shaved off the two pounds I was overweight by, and now I weigh in at a buck seventy five. Anyway, during the weigh in he shot me a cocky glance followed by a smug grin. “You look really cut up, Reilly,” he commented. “I heard through the grapevine that you were testing out this new enhancer.”

I lunged at him, and it took Murph and Joe to hold me back. “You fucking coward,” I yelled, taking a swing at him before Murph could restrain my arms. “You’re grasping at straws.”

What I meant by that was that was his final attempt to try and cheat himself into winning the belt. Everyone knows self-enhancers are illegal and if I tested positive, he’d win the belt because I’d be disqualified. That would make my record 12-1 and knock me out of being undefeated.

So not only would the mother fucker be stealing my belt, but he’d be stealing my pride as well.

Joe’s lips were at my ear. “Save it for the ring, Seany.”

If it weren’t for Joe, and Murph, I’m pretty sure I would have popped Avery Mullins in the mouth. An image flashed through my mind about what my fist connecting Mullins mouth might look like, and lets just say that image brought a smile to lips.

A great big smile.

Sparkly white teeth and everything.

Needless to say, the officials made me piss in a fucking cup, the bastards. And after that I retreated to the locker room for some alone time.

I think it’s strange how listening to music before my fights always soothes me. It’s like it speaks to my nerves and tells me
you got this Seany
. You got this. It doesn’t matter what I’m listening to, whether it’s classic rock, pop, even traditional Irish folk music has a way of latching onto me and calming me down.

My thoughts shift.

Switch.

My mood twists from anger to curiosity when I think of Hadlee and wonder if she’ll be watching my fight. I like to think there’s a good possibility in that.  I assume most of America will be watching it.

The song on my ipod changes and
Not Afraid
  swells in my ears at the same time Joe peeks through the door. “You had enough alone time?” he asks with a lifted brow.

I pull the ear buds out my ear and wrap them around my ipod. “Yeah.” I stare at the blank screen of the iPhone and think about Teagan. She texted me when she got back to school so I’d know she’s okay. And I know she’ll be the first person I call whether I win or lose this fight.

I asked her and Emerson if they wanted to come, and even though she said she wanted to, she said they couldn’t. Both of them had finals this week and I know they’ll be cramming. I smile at the thought of Tee in the library, studying.

Always the studious scholar, that one.

I follow Joe through the locker room door where my crew is waiting. Murph spots me, and with three steps is at my side, covering me with my black and red robe that has Right Hook silk screened on the back in bold, crimson lettering.

I sense a pun coming.

And a hard pat on the back.

Finally Murph smiles as I pull my hood up over my head. “Knock em dead.”

I laugh and fall in line as the traditional Irish folk song plays out, filling up the entire arena and everyone knows that’s my cue to make my grand entrance.

The roar of the crowd is deafening.

Yet welcoming.

It’s a sellout .

Not one empty seat in the house.

People chant my name as the group of us make are our way to the ring.

It’s euphoric.

An out of this world feeling.

As we enter the ring, I lock eyes with Avery Mullins. There’s hint of ferocity in his wide brown eyes, and a scowl on his tan colored lips. His trainer is rubbing Vaseline into his cappucino colored skin and a for a moment I get a flashback of the last time I knocked him out. I smile. Knocking this twat out two times in my life is going to be bittersweet.

Joe preps me by putting vaseline  under my eyes, putting my mouth guard in, then pulling me down by the back of the neck, he places his forehead against mine and breathes out, “Kid, you’re not a scapper. You’re not a street rat anymore. You’re the champion of the world. Now go show this asshole what you’re famous for.”

With that I fist bump him with my gloves and walk toward the center of the ring.

The roaring crowd grows louder. Their chants spike inside of me, pumping adrenaline through me, and I’m so hyped that I’m taking deep, deep breaths and almost growling. I shrug my shoulders. Roll my head from side to side. And bounce right foot to left. Then I repeat the process.

I’m fidgety. Not because I’m nervous, but because when I feel like I have power that’s how I get. There’s some crazy thrill that stabs me right before a fight and there are times where feel like I could fly. There are times where I feel like I could just burst through the roof of the arena and touch the moon. This is one of those times.

Mullins lets out a haughty chuckle, muffled by the sound of his black mouth guard and the ref meets us in the center of the ring. The ref’s voice fades away as I tune him out and give Mullins the stare down. The cocky prick nods at me with confidence and  right before the bell sounds, I picture him as the fucking pervert who attacked Hadlee. I think about how I wanted to kill that pervert. And when the bell finally dings, I lunge toward Mullins, gloves up, a muffled battle cry exiting my throat.

Then I wrench my right arm back and swing.

Chapter Twenty Eight

~Hadlee~

Right jab.

Left jab.

Right.

Right.

Right.

Lara and I are in the bathroom getting ready for the night out for my birthday and she’s punching the air, trying to imitate Sean throwing punches. She hops up, throws both hands up in the air  and announces, “And the winner is, by a knockout in the first round, still the middle weight champion of the world is Sean Right Hook Reilly!” She walks in a circle, arms still raised. “And the crowd goes wild! Rawwr! Rawwr! Rawwwr!”

I giggle at the way she’s trying to imitate the sound of the chaos that ensued after Sean blasted Avery Mullins with a lethal right hook to the jaw. “That was pretty intense,” I say, putting the finishing touches on my hair with the curling iron. I’m wearing it curled tonight. I usually don’t fuss with it, but tonight is a special occasion.