Fighting For Irish (A Fighting for Love Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (9 page)

“Let’s hear these conditions of yours and then I’ll decide if this is worth my time,” Sully said, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee.

“I want you to let her think I’ve convinced you to wait on Lenny getting out of jail. That means stop tailing her and let her come back to her apartment.”

“Sure, no problem,” Vinnie jeered. “How ’bout we book her a nice day at the spa, too, while we’re at it?”

Just as Aiden was about to shoot off at the mouth, Sully beat him to it. “Shut the fuck up, Vinnie. Is that all, Mr. Smith? You want her to think she’s no longer in danger?”

“That’s it. I don’t want her to see you, smell you, or know you exist.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see a problem with that, but I want to be clear about something. Just because you’re the one getting us the money doesn’t mean she’s not our main collateral. So until we get the money, we’ll be keeping tabs on her. If she so much as steps foot outside the county limits, we’ll know it.”

“How?”

“A couple of weeks ago we placed a tracker in her arm so we could find her if she skipped town again.”

Chills ran down Aiden’s spine. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“You’d be surprised what you don’t notice when someone bumps into you in a crowded bar. Any irritation is usually passed off as a bug bite,” Vinnie said, looking way too proud of himself. He must’ve been the one to stick her with the tracker.

Aiden’s blood was reaching the boiling point. He hated being at anyone’s mercy on a
normal
day, and this situation blew normal out of the water. “If you’ve been able to track her this whole time, what’s with all the obvious tailing? And why didn’t you show up at my place last night or today?”

“Intimidation, and once we realized she’d found herself a knight, we knew her hero would eventually try to avenge her. So thanks for being predictable.” Sully flashed him a malicious smile, then stood and signaled for Vinnie to put his firearm away. “All right, hot shot, you’ve got a month to get us the money. You don’t deliver, they’ll be adding ‘blunt force trauma’ to your medical records. Then we go after the girl.”

“Yeah, yeah. Little mercy, lots of torture. I get the picture.” Aiden opened the door and held it open. “Now get the fuck out. We’re done here.”

Sully pinned him with a look that clearly said he was only leaving because he wanted to. “We’ll be in touch, Mr. Smith.”

When Vinnie drew up level with Aiden, he studied him so hard there should’ve been smoke coming out his ears. “I can’t shake this feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Aiden answered tightly. “Guess I have one of those faces.”

As soon as the goons crossed the threshold, he slammed the door shut, hit the lights, and strode to the front windows. He watched as the men crossed the street, entered a door between two storefronts, and eventually showed themselves in a lit window facing Kat’s apartment before Vinnie flipped him off and drew the shades.

Fuckers were closer than he liked for comfort, but he supposed he wouldn’t expect them to go very far. Whatever. As long as they kept their end of the bargain and stopped toying with Kat, it didn’t matter where they were.

Aiden grabbed Kat’s gun from her dresser, checked the clip and the safety, and shoved it in the back of his waistband before locking up and heading back out to his bike. Before he started the engine, he found Xander in his contacts and connected the call. In two rings, his friend picked up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, mate.”

“Me too. Is that underground tournament going on right now?”

“The Four by Four? Yeah, we’re in the finals. Three weeks to go. I kicked major ass in it last night, by the way, thanks for asking.”

Aiden didn’t have time to pander to Xan’s feelings. “I need you to get me in.”

“Let’s pretend for a second, Mr. I’ll Never Fight Again, that my jaw isn’t on the floor while I remind you that the tournament already started.”

“I heard you the first time. I need in, Xan. Figure it out.”

He shoved his phone in his pocket, pulled on his helmet, and took off toward home to get some answers.

Chapter Eight

It was times like these when Kat wished she was a part of the technologically obsessed world. She’d give anything to have her cell phone so she could call Irish and see if he was okay.

Ever since he’d left more than an hour earlier, she’d paced, rocked, and drove herself mad with worry. She didn’t even have Xander to try and reassure her, since he was still at work. At last she heard the faint whine of his bike grow louder. She would have run out to meet him in the shed, but Ally had been playing Guard the Castle on the porch all night. After what seemed like forever, he jogged up the steps and walked through the door. Kat froze in her pacing and did a quick scan to make sure no appendages were broken or missing.

“Thank God you’re all right,” she said. “I kept imagining the worst.”

“I’m fine.” He pulled off his gloves and riding jacket and set them on the back of the couch.

She winced at the sight of his split lower lip. Hopefully that was the worst they’d given him. “What happened? What did they say?”

“I gotta get out of these clothes and shower. We’ll talk after.”

Aiden strode across the room without another word. His terse demeanor stunned her, to say the least, but she told herself it might be normal for him. She didn’t know him
that
well, after all. “Do you want me to make you coffee or anything?”

He emerged from his bedroom holding a pair of boxer briefs and jersey shorts with a towel wrapped around his waist. “No. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said on his way into the bathroom, then closed the door behind him.

She heard the water in the shower go on as she started to pace. She could try to justify it, but the truth was that she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be so cold to her for no reason. He’d never treated her with anything other than care and consideration from the day they met. Something was wrong.

Steeling herself before she lost her nerve, Kat strode across the room and opened the door wide. “Hey—”

The vinyl curtain ripped back to show a very soapy, very colorful, and—holy shit—
very
well-hung Irish braced for attack mode. “Jesus Christ, Kat, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, rising to his full height. “I almost jumped you, for fuck’s sake!”

He whipped the curtain back to its closed position and snapped her back to the present. For a second there, she’d been entertaining images of his slick body “jumping” hers. She needed to stay focused on the more important issue at hand. Like whether or not she needed a new identity and a crash course in speaking Spanish.

“You’re freaking me out, Irish. I can tell something’s wrong. You can’t expect me to wait until you’re through showering to—”

The water turned off as the curtain slid to the side, yet again derailing her thoughts. He ran his hands forward over his head, squeezing out excess water from his longer hair on top. Droplets of water randomly trailed down his body, highlighting the bright colors in his skin, winking over the silver bars in his nipples, and sliding between the valley of his abs.

Irish grabbed the towel off the bar and wrapped it around his waist again as he stepped out of the tub onto the shower mat. “To what, Kat?”

“Hmm?” What did he say?
Snap out of it!
“Oh, to hear what happened.”

Royal blue eyes considered her for several long moments. Professor Xavier’s telepathy powers would come in handy right about now. Then, not only would she know what had happened at her apartment, but she’d know the thoughts running rampant in his head at her ogling his assets.

“Look, coffee this late will keep me up,” he finally said, “but if you don’t mind grabbing me a juice, I’ll be right out.”

“Yeah, sure, of course. I’m sorry.”

She gave him a weak smile and left the bathroom. Something was
definitely
wrong. He was acting different. And not in a good way.
It must be bad news
, she thought as she took a bottle of juice out of the fridge and cracked open the lid. As she wracked her brain as to what the bad news could be, Kat tipped the plastic bottle to her lips, sipped…and spit it into the sink.

“Blech!” She held it up and shuddered just reading the label. “Cranberry.”

“Good for the kidneys,” he said, coming up behind her and relieving her of his juice.

“Cranberry juice is so…” She turned to face him, her sentence trailing off at the sight of him as he killed the whole bottle, his throat stretched, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “…delicious.”

His black shorts rode so low on his hips as to almost have no point in being worn at all. It didn’t matter that she’d seen him naked twice no more than five minutes earlier. Somehow this was sexier, with the deep V-cut of his obliques disappearing beneath the elastic waistband, torturing her with thoughts of where those muscles would lead her fingers if she traced them to their ends.

Irish tossed the bottle in the garbage and leaned back on the counter. “If it’s so delicious, why’d you spit it out?”

“Hmm?”
Oh my God, you’re like a broken idiotic record around him unless he’s fully clothed. Smooth, Kat, real smooth.
“Oh, no, I meant disgusting. Too tart for my taste, I guess.” Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “We still talking about juice?”

She shook her head, the errant sections of hair that had fallen from her messy up-do over the harrowing evening swaying on her cheeks and neck. “The news.”

“Not at all,” he said. “They backed off. They’re gonna wait until Marx gets out and take it up with him.”

“Are you serious? You mean I’m free?”

“You won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

The perpetual fear she’d lived with for so many months finally melted away, leaving her feeling almost weightless. “Irish, that’s great news!” She paused in her celebration to study his solemn face. Her brows drew together with her uncertainty. “Irish? What’s wrong?”

“I asked you if there was anything I needed to know about the situation before I went there. You said I knew everything.”

“You did.”

“Really? So the fact that you and your ex
worked
for Sicoli, what, just slipped your mind? Still,” he said in a low voice, “I never figured you for a drug pusher.”

“A
drug
pusher
? I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! Lenny gambled with Sicoli’s money and lost it. That’s why they were after us.”

“But that was only part of the story, wasn’t it, Kat? The part you left out was that the twenty Gs he gambled and lost came from you selling Sicoli’s meth.”

She stared, jaw slack and eyes wide, dumbfounded by his accusation. As he pushed off the counter and crossed the room, she continued to plead her case. “This is insane. Those guys probably just said that stuff so you wouldn’t help me or something.”

Picking up his riding jacket, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As he walked back toward her, she met him halfway at the kitchen table. “I’ve never worked for Sicoli, and I’ve
never
had anything to do with drugs.”

“Drop the act, Kat.”

He opened the paper and slapped it down on the table between them, his blue eyes cold. With reluctance, she lowered her gaze. The paper was a contract for employment with the Sicoli Syndicate and at the bottom, right below Lenny’s, was her signature.

“That dirty, rotten bastard,” she forced through a clenched jaw. “He must have forged my signature. If I ever see him again, I’m going to kill him.”

“Why would he forge your signature for something like that?”

“I know exactly why. It’s classic Lenny. After we weren’t a couple anymore, I always suspected he had worried I’d walk away from him one day, but he’d looked at us like we were the modern day Bonnie and Clyde or something. We were a team that worked well together, and he knew he could trust me. So by forging my signature, if things ever went bad, I’d be just as invested in solving the problem as him. Otherwise, I could leave and he’d be left to deal with his consequences all on his own.”

Irish didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t react. Kat didn’t know what that meant, and frankly, she no longer cared.
Sure you don’t.
“Never mind,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.” She turned and grabbed her clothes off the couch before heading to the bathroom. While changing out of the borrowed clothes and into her work skirt and T-shirt that she’d thankfully washed while he’d been gone, she reprimanded herself for thinking he could actually be different than any other man. They never saw her for what she was. Only for what they wanted to see.

She yanked open the door and almost walked right into him. “What are you doing, Kat?”

“I’m going back to my apartment and tomorrow I’m leaving this Podunk town just like I planned. I appreciate what you did, but I’m not going to stand here while you look at me like I’m a piece of trash. I get enough of that from everyone else.”

She sidestepped him, gathered her purse and shoes by the couch, and set her course. She’d rather take her chances with a pissed off alligator than spend another minute in that cabin.

…

Aiden deserved a thorough beating.

Before she could leave, he rushed to meet her at the door. “Kat, wait.”

She’d opened the door only a couple of inches when he caged her from behind and pushed the door closed with the flats of his hands. “Don’t go.”

She stood ramrod straight, tension evident in every muscle. Chunks of red-gold hair skimmed the pale skin of her neck, tempting him to nudge it aside and replace it with his lips. The faint smell of lilacs curled through his body, fueling his desire from the inside out.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Because I want you in my bed. Beneath me. Wrapped around me so tightly I forget why I can’t have you.
He was so fucked. It was dangerous for her to be with him, but it was even more dangerous for her to try and skip town until he could pay off the Wonder Twins. He hadn’t considered she’d still want to leave.

“I don’t want you to, for one. And it’s late,” he tried. “Stay the night; give your head time to clear.”

Her voice held the telltale tightness of attempting to hold in emotions. “Call me crazy, but I’d rather not stay in the company of someone who thinks so little of me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kitten,” he said, turning her around to face him. Her normally rosy lips were now shades of rubies and swollen. Auburn lashes had gathered into wet spikes from the hurt she refused to let stream down her face. Even when flayed open with hurt, the beauty of her face was flawless. “Look, I’m no good with words, but I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff.”

She responded with only silence and stillness.
Say something, asshole. Fix this.

“Kat, I think you’re a really good person who deserves a hell of a lot more than I think you’ve been given in life. And you’re strong. I think you’re pretty amazing, actually. I have from the first time I met you.”

“And I’m supposed to believe all that after you just got done calling me a drug dealer and a liar?”

He cursed under his breath. What the fuck was wrong with him? He let shit from his past block out all logic or even give her the chance to explain before condemning her. Framing her face with his hands, he gazed deep into her wounded eyes. “I’m sorry. I saw that contract and heard about the drugs and…” He released a heavy breath. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I flipped my shit. I should’ve asked instead of accusing you. I was an asshole.”

“Yes, you were.”

She locked her scrutiny on his chest as though she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye anymore. He ducked his head to put himself in her line of vision and whispered fiercely, “I won’t doubt you like that again, I swear. Forgive me?”

She chewed on her lower lip for the eternity of a few seconds, then nodded. Her pupils swallowed the light blue of her irises as she held onto his shoulders. She swallowed hard, drawing his eyes to the smooth expanse of her throat. Her pulse sped up as he traced a finger down her neck. She wasn’t as unaffected as he’d thought.

Relief flooded his system and bolstered his confidence. She didn’t hate him. Yet, anyway. All bets would be off if she ever found out who he really was and why he’d turned up in Alabaster. But he’d add that to his list of sins to worry about another time.

Aiden dropped his hands to her hips and stepped closer. “And will you stay tonight?” he asked softly.

“I’ll stay.”

One night. He could do that, couldn’t he? Then he could get this need for her out of his system and focus on winning the tournament to free her from any danger. His job would be done, his debt paid to Jax, and he could move on to continue his daily penance and meaningless existence.

But right now he wanted to feel alive again, if only for a night in the arms of the woman who’d had his balls on lockdown for months. She was the reason no one else even appealed to him anymore. He needed her, just this once. But he wouldn’t do it without an understanding between them.

“Kat, can I be honest with you?”

“Haven’t you been so far?”

Not answering that one was better than an outright lie, right? Aiden was aware of the fine line he was walking. There was little between them that was honest from his end. But at least in this one thing, he’d be telling her the truth. Now he just had to do it without sounding crude or disrespectful, which would be a challenge. He was no smooth-talking Romeo.

Meeting her expectant gaze, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the possibility of getting slapped. “I wanna be with you tonight.”

“As in,
with me
with me?”

“Yeah,” he said, amusement lifting a corner of his mouth. “With you with you. It’s been a really long time since I wanted someone as much as I want you.”

“Really?” she asked breathlessly.

“You sound surprised.”

She offered a weak shrug and suddenly found interest in the floorboards. “You seem like you’d be more into exciting, exotic-looking women. Like one of those sexy, new-age pin-up girls with the flawless skin and beautiful tattoos.”