The Aftermath - Page 14/66

“If you’re too chicken shit to take on major professional fighters, there ain’t no shame in that either.”

Fuck him. I’d show him exactly how out of his depth he was. Dancing around, I deftly dogged a predictable combination and delivered a right hook with the force of a freight train. The hit connected, and I felt a momentary swell of relief. If I could just do that enough times, maybe I could purge the anger and frustration that stayed with me constantly. I didn’t much care about Earnshaw. Not when his eyes snapped shut, not when he flew through the air completely unconscious, and not when he landed with a smack against the canvas. I cared about what happened next.

Chapter 6

“No,” cried Em from across the gym. Kieran stood in the doorway behind her. Both of them ran across the room and climbed into the ring, but it was Earnshaw they went to and it fucking burned. Kieran checked his vitals while Em looked at me accusingly.

“What have you done?” she whispered.

“What have I done?” I asked, shocked. Watching Em kneeling next to him felt like betrayal. “He shouldn’t be here, Em. If he can’t handle a simple sparring session, how’s he going to handle world-class title fights?”

“He’s not here to fight world-class fucking fighters, he’s here to promote your career.” The fact that she was shouting at me should have made me pause. Em rarely raised her voice, let alone swore. Unfortunately for me, I was on a roll.

“Nobody made him get in the fucking ring with me. It’s not my fault if the stupid bastard doesn’t know when to quit.”

“Bullshit! You’ve been spoiling for a fight for ages and you should never have let him get in the ring with you. This is on you, O’Connell, and you don’t have the balls to admit it. You don’t even give a shit whether he’s okay or not.”

“Why are you taking his side? I’m a fighter. This is what we do!” I shouted, feeling more and more pissed off by the second.

“It’s not about taking sides, you arsehole. It’s about right from fucking wrong. And don’t you ever call this fighting. Stick any label you want on it but you’ve just bullied and beaten a guy who’s done nothing more than try and impress you. That’s not the man I married,” she answered, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Maybe this is exactly the man you married,” I said quietly and turned my back on all of them.

* * *

“Well, you properly fucked that up didn’t you,” Kieran said smugly as he sat his arse down on the bench next to me.

“You’re not supposed to swear in church,” I answered softly.

“I drop a quid in the collection box for every time I swear. Me and God have an agreement about it,” Kieran replied. I chuckled because I was pretty sure he was serious.

“How did you know where I was?” I asked him.

“After Em’s kidnapping I figured that this was probably your bolt-hole for when things go to shit.” He waited patiently for me to get my shit together and talk to him.

“How’s Earnshaw?” I asked, scared now to know the answer.

“He’s gonna have a headache tomorrow, but he’s fine. You knocked him old cold but he came round a few minutes after you left.”

“Em still pissed at me?” I asked with my head in my hands.

“She loves you, Con. Of course she’s still pissed at you.”

“I fucked up big didn’t I?” I asked him.

“It was a fuck up of epic proportions. Seriously, I think this might be it for the both of you. Don’t sweat it. Romeo and Juliet weren’t meant to be either.”

“You’re an arsehole,” I told him, “and you’re enjoying this.”

“I’m not the one who knocked out his manager and yelled at his wife. I’m pretty sure the arsehole of the year trophy belongs to you. And, yes, I’m enjoying this immensely. You making Em curse was entertainment value enough.”

“What am I going to do?” I asked him.

Surprising the fuck out of me, he answered me seriously.

“Think about what she said. This shit with Frank has been fucking with your head since Em was kidnapped. You need to talk to her about it. Get it off your chest and tell her everything. Stop acting like a hard arse and let her in. You’re gonna lose her if you don’t.”

I nodded, as I thought about what he said.

“Do you think I should crash at yours tonight? Give her some space and speak to her in the morning?”

He laughed in my face. “I know fuck all about marriage, Con, but common fucking sense tells me that you not going home to her tonight is the worst idea ever. Man up and go make nice with your wife. And whenever the urge strikes you to argue back with her, bite your fucking tongue. Unless you’re saying sorry or I love you, you’re basically just ringing the bell for round two.

* * *

Everything I meant to say went straight out of my head when I walked through the door.

“Arsehole,” was the first thing Em said as she smacked me on the chest, then surprising the fuck out of me, threw her arms around me.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry,” I blurted out, as I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as tightly to me as I could.

“What’s going on, O’Connell?” she mumbled into my chest.

I took a deep breath, knowing that she needed to know where my head was at. But it went against the grain to do anything but protect her and make her feel safe.

“I’m scared, Em,” I told her.

“Of what?” she asked.

“Of losing you. I promised I’d protect you and I couldn’t have fucked that up more royally if I tried. Now I’m doing it again. Frank’s finding ways to get to you that I can’t stop. I’m pissed off and frustrated and I’m hurting anyone in my line of fire because I can’t hurt Frank.”

Bone-wearily tired I sat down on the sofa and pulled Em to sit down in my lap. If she forgave me enough to hold me, then I wasn’t letting her go.

“Why the fuck didn’t you just talk to me about it,” she said.

“I think you’ve sworn more today than any day since I met you,” I answered.

“Stop changing the subject,” she replied.

“Because husbands are supposed to protect their wives. It’s my job to deal with my shit, not drag you down with me,” I said.