The Hurricane (38 page)

His deep voice purred seductively in my ear, and I squirmed in my seat, feeling desperate and aroused. I wondered how it was possible for my body to develop this Pavlov’s dog’s reaction to his voice so quickly. He went back to his nuzzling, knowing full well that I was seconds away from turning around and jumping him, when the door banged open.

“Jesus Christ, are you two still at it? I thought you were supposed to stop having sex when you got hitched.”

“Nope,” said O’Connell, with a grin.

It was the grin I don’t think had left his face since our wedding day. Tommy rolled his eyes and sat in the chair opposite.

“So, have you realised yet what a loser you married? ‘Cause I’m still single.”

“Careful,” O’Connell warned, all traces of humour gone.

O’Connell loved Tommy like a brother, but Tommy did have an uncanny ability to push his buttons. I rolled my eyes at the both of them.

“You stay single, Tommy. It’s not fair to the female population to give all of yourself to just one woman. I’m happy enough sticking with the love of my life,” I told him, which made Tommy huff and O’Connell grin.

He wasn’t wrong before, when he warned me he’d need reassurance. We both did from time to time. But that was the joy of being in love. It was no effort to give that reassurance to each another.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. O, and to you, fucktard.”

Kieran greeted O’Connell and me, and finally Tommy.

“You’re in a good mood this morning. Get laid at my wedding, did we?” O’Connell teased.

“As it happens, no I didn’t. But it’s only a matter of time, my friend.” Kieran grinned, and I presumed he was referring to Marie.

“That was an arsehole move at the bar when I was chatting her up. You know that, right?” grumbled Tommy.

Kieran laughed, obviously happy that he’d been successful in prying Tommy away from Marie.

“Listen,” explained Kieran, with his hands up in surrender. “It had absolutely nothing to do with my awesome chat up lines. One look at you dancing to ‘
Sex Bomb
’ and belting out Tom Jones, and she was dust.”

“What-the-fuck-ever,” grumbled Tommy.

“I do an awesome Tom Jones,” he told me under his breath.

One by one, all of the boys filed into the office. O’Connell stopped kissing my neck but was never very far away from me. They were all shooting the breeze about what they’d been up to over Christmas. Danny went to stay with his sister for a couple of days, and the gym had been closed, so most of the boys were now itching to get back into training. Danny shuffled in as he clocked who was here and who wasn’t. His customary cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, and I frowned, wondering how much of a toll this chain smoking was taking on his health. He poured himself a cup of coffee then looked at Tommy sitting in his chair. When Tommy failed to take the hint, Danny barked, “Move,” and Tommy jumped a mile. Settling himself down, he took a puff of his cigarette, then put it out and addressed the boys.

“Right, lads, we have ourselves a dilemma,” he told us.

“In two weeks, Con is fighting Roberto Calvari. It’s a good fight with a good payday. I set it up because Calvari is a solid fighter. Con won’t just be a stepping stone. If he beats Calvari, he’ll be in the spotlight for fights leading to title contention.”

“What’s wrong? Calvari hasn’t pulled out has he?” asked Kieran, seriously.

“Quite the opposite, boyo. Quite the opposite. He’s as up for it as ever. And there’s no doubt about it, it’s a big fight and a big opportunity for Con and the gym.”

“So, what’s the problem?” asked O’Connell, impatient to know what Danny was leading up to.

“Felix Ramos has offered you a title fight.”

“Holy shit,” whispered Tommy.

I looked around at all the lads who were stunned and slightly awed.

“Who’s Felix Ramos?” I asked.

“It was a few years ago,” explained O’Connell, “but he was World Heavyweight Champion. He’s won a few fights and lost a few fights since then, and it’s a much smaller title, but it would be the biggest fight of my career, by far.”

“So, what’s the catch?” asked Kieran, who went straight to the point.

“This time Con is a stepping stone. Ramos’ career is on the decline, and he wants to fight an up-and-comer. He underestimates Con, and I think it’ll be a barnburner, but he’s rigged it. If we turn it down, we won’t get offered another fight again.”

“How’s he rigged it?” Mac asked.

“Well, there’s the rub,” replied Danny. “It’s in six weeks’ time.”

“Fuck!” pretty much all of them muttered.

“How is that possible?” I asked.

“That’s how he’s rigged it, sunshine. It’s long enough between fights for surface bruises to heal. On the outside, I’ll look fight ready, but my body won’t have fully recovered from the last fight,” O’Connell explained.

He looked as grim and thoughtful as the rest of the room.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

I HAD JUST PLATED UP A SMALL mountain-sized portion of pasta when O’Connell got on my last nerve. Walking over to him, I put both hands on his chest.

“Baby, stop,” I told him.

He’d been training relentlessly since the meeting this morning, and after the few days we had off together, one day of hardcore training wasn’t nearly enough to calm the torrent raging inside him. Since he’d come home half an hour ago, he’d dumped his training bag and jumped into the shower. He’d then spent the last ten minutes pacing the length of our tiny apartment.

“What do you think I should do, Em?” he asked me.

“I think you should sit down and eat your dinner. Then we’re going to climb into bed and talk about it.”

He nodded his head and relaxed his shoulders. After a long day of questioning whether or not to take the fight, he seemed relieved to have someone take a decision out of his hands, even if it was a minor one. An hour later, after he’d wolfed down his meal and we’d washed the dishes side by side in the tiny little kitchenette, I laid on his chest as he ran his fingers absentmindedly through my hair. At least now, he seemed calmer and a little more centred.

“What does Danny think?” I asked him.

“I had a word with him after the boys left. He thinks I can do it; he just wants me to change my game plan. Instead of wearing Calvari down, he wants me to go for the knockout. Calvari’s had losses before, but he’s never been knocked out. It’s a big gamble. If I go at him all guns blazing and I don’t knock him out, I might not have enough left in the tank for a win at all. But if I do, then I’ll be in much better shape for the second fight.”

“What does Kier think?” I asked him, knowing that he valued Kieran’s opinion almost as much as Danny’s.

“He doesn’t want me to take the Ramos fight. He thinks that the purse and the exposure aren’t worth the risk of me losing the fight and fucking up my stats. It would probably make more sense for me to cancel the Calvari fight, but I’m under contract. Even if I could get out of it, I’d get a bad rep if I tried to pull from the fight last-minute.”

“What do YOU want to do?” I asked.

“Honestly? I want a crack at them both. I’ve seen them fight, and I think I can do it, too.”

“Then take both fights. Train like you’ve never trained before and take both fights.”

“You don’t mind? We’re only just married, and I’d be training every waking hour of the day. We’ll barely see each other.”

“Look, I’ll start helping out more at the gym, maybe do a bit of cleaning to help Danny out before I go back to school. We won’t be together, but at least I’ll get to see you during the day. Besides, it’s only for six weeks. It will only be a few weeks after the last fight until half term, so maybe we can away for a few days together then. Sort of like a mini honeymoon.”

“I like the sound of that. Not the cleaning part, though. Those lazy bastards can clean up after themselves. But I like the rest of it.”

“Then get some sleep and stop worrying about it, love. You’ve decided what you’re going to do, so stop questioning yourself.”

“Kieran won’t be happy,” he told me.

“He might not agree with you, but he’ll support your decision. He’ll always be your corner man, you know that.”

We lay together trying to sleep, but ten minutes later, I could still feel the tension radiating off him. Propping myself up on my elbows to peer down at him in the darkness, I kissed his abs gently.

“What’s wrong?”

“Frank hasn’t surfaced yet.”

“Did you think he would?” I asked.

“I sort of hoped. I have a lot of pent-up rage I’d like to direct his way.”

“If he’d gotten my address from the burglary, we’d have seen him by now. We just have to assume I’m safe and move on. You’re going to have to direct all that rage into your fights. Just pretend that Calvari and Ramos are Frank.”

“That will work for the knockout,” he snorted.

“Don’t borrow worry. Just focus on one thing at a time. You know you can do this. Just be the cocky bastard that I married.”

“You’re right, sunshine. I do have this in the bag. As long as you’re watching, I can’t lose.”

He couldn’t see my face in the dark, but I made a good show of convincing him with confidence that I didn’t feel. The truth was that he took my heart with him every time he climbed into the ring, and he didn’t give it back until he climbed out again safely. I wouldn’t rest until his last fight was over, but until then I would keep my fears to myself and hold onto my faith that everything would turn out for the best.

DANNY FOUND ME THE NEXT day cleaning out the bathrooms at the gym. To be fair, they weren’t quite as disgusting as I’d feared they’d be, but they were still pretty grim. I’d always been able to use the bathroom next to the office, which wasn’t nearly as much of a health hazard.

“What the feckin’ hell do you think you’re doing?” shouted Danny.

I turned back to look at him but didn’t stop scrubbing.

“Cleaning the bathroom,” I explained though I would have thought it was patently obvious from the bucket of hot soapy water and scrubbing brush.

“Yes, I can see that. But why?” he growled.

I leaned back on my heels and dropped the scrubbing brush back into the water.

“Look, O’Connell has training every day for the next six weeks. He’s already getting nervous and jumpy about not seeing me for so long, let alone about the fights. I don’t have any uni work until I go back after the Calvari fight, so I told him I’d hang around the gym more so we could at least see each other.”

“And you think he’s gonna be happy when he knows you’re in here cleaning the jacks?”

“Well, he wasn’t over the moon when I mentioned the idea of cleaning to him, but Danny, I can’t sit around and do nothing,” I moaned.

“This shit is for the kids to do. All my boys paid their dues with cleaning over the years, and their chores subsidise their fees. If you want to be useful, you can help me train Con.”

“How? I don’t know anything about boxing. Besides, wouldn’t I be a distraction?”

“You’re not a distraction sunshine, you’re motivation. Before you, he wasn’t interested in turning professional. Now, he’s giving it everything he’s got. To impress you, he’ll train longer and harder than for any of the other lads. You’re the fuel to his fire, so I reckon it’s time that we start putting that to good use.”

I was gobsmacked. How could I motivate him to go harder? It seemed like he was pushing his body to the absolute limit as it was.

“I don’t like it, but I’ll do whatever you think is best,” I told Danny. “But I’m finishing these toilets first. I hate seeing a job half done.”

Danny rolled his eyes and mumbled something about how strange I was. At first, helping to train O’Connell meant sitting by the side of the ring watching Danny bark orders. On one particularly strained afternoon, Danny challenged them all to see who could bench press me.

“No one else is touching my fucking wife,” O’Connell growled back at Danny. Instead, he lifted me up, and with a very girly yelp and squeal from me, he bench pressed me until I got a cramp. As the days wore on, I would learn how to massage and rub him down after training. Even when he was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open, we didn’t dare do the rubdowns unsupervised. Danny had imposed the sex ban again, and the minute that my oily hands would touch his slick, hard body, we would both be on fire. The only thing that killed the feeling was having Danny standing over us and barking out everything that I was doing wrong. Day after day of seeing each other, and night after night without touching was taking its toll. We didn’t dare do more than kiss because once we opened Pandora’s Box, there would be no closing it. O’Connell thought the sex ban was a joke now that we were married, but he didn’t see what I saw. His testosterone levels were through the roof. I only had to walk past him now, and his nostrils flared like a bull in heat. If Calvari so much as looked at me before the fight, O’Connell would knock him out in the first round. As Danny suspected, O’Connell trained harder and longer around me, possibly because I spent most of my time and energy willing him on. After twenty-five one-handed press ups, I’d push him to change hands and do another set. After thirty minutes on the bag, I’d tell him that he had at least another ten minutes still left in him. I’d encourage and push him in any way that I could. By the time the rest day before the fight rolled around, I was as tired as he was restless. I woke up to a string of tiny kisses along my spine.