The Storm

by R. J. Prescott

  “You guys make the cutest couple ever!” she replied.

  “Slow down, Em. We’re not a couple. I’ve told you before that I’m not looking for a serious relationship,” I said.

  “Come on, Marie, you two can’t keep your eyes or your hands off each other. It’s only a matter of time until something happens with you, if it hasn’t happened already.”

  “Look, I’m not saying that I don’t like him. I’m just not in a place where I want or need a relationship. I’m happy with things the way they are,” I replied. That wasn’t exactly true, but there was no need to tell Em that.

  “Why does it have to be serious? Just get to know him a little and see where it goes. He really is a great guy. What’s the worst that could happen?” she asked.

  I’d fall in love with him. Or even more tragic, he’d fall in love with me. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “Do me a favour, Em. Don’t push this. Nothing’s going to happen with Kieran. We’re friends, and that’s exactly how I want to keep things.”

  “Okay,” she said, with a longsuffering sigh. “But you’re giving up on something that could be pretty spectacular.”

  “Since you got married, you want to marry everyone else off. It’s quite cute really,” Nikki said, pulling up a stool next to me.

  “I just want you guys to be happy, that’s all,” Em explained, looking a little put out.

  “Now don’t get your knickers in a knot. What you and Con have is special, and that’s pretty hard to find, but you’ve got to let people find it in their own way,” she said, and Em nodded in reluctant agreement. “Besides, life is a chocolate box of men, and I want to try every flavour. Unless I find that one mythical chocolate that makes me forget that all others exist, I’m going to keep eating. Maybe Marie feels the same.”

  “What she said,” I added, giggling at Em’s glum expression. She really did want to see us all settled down.

  “Cheer up, Em, it really is for the best. Just imagine how awkward it would be if we dated and things didn’t work out? I’d never be able to come out with you guys anymore, and it would split up our group,” I said.

  “But imagine if you fell in love and had beautiful babies and we spent every weekend taking the kids away camping!” she whined.

  “Dear God, marriage really has turned her into a monster!” Nikki said to me, and I laughed as Em poked her tongue out at her.

  “Honestly, Em, we really are better off as friends,” I said.

  “Who’s better off as friends?” Kieran asked, as he set a bottle of beer down on the table in front of me and dragged over a stool to put down next to mine.

  “Marie was just shattering my dream of planning your wedding by telling me that you’re just friends,” Em told him glumly.

  “Is that so, Irish?” Kieran said. Chuckling, he took a sip of his pint.

  “Irish?” Nikki asked, before I had a chance to.

  “She looks more Irish that English,” Kieran explained, flicking a lock of my hair to demonstrate, and making me shiver.

  “I was explaining to Em that I’m not looking for a relationship now, so she needs to bring the crazy down a notch,” I said. The words were bitter in my mouth. The rational side of me knew that I was doing and saying the right thing. The irrational side of me was sitting as close as possible to the edge of my stool just to touch him.

  “I get that. So how do you feel about casual, sweaty, monkey sex?” he asked. I choked on my beer, and he slapped my back until the coughing and spluttering stopped.

  “You did that on purpose!” I said, wiping tears from my eyes.

  “I did not,” he said, innocently, “and stop avoiding the question.” I looked up to see Em and Nikki perched eagerly as they waited on my answer.

  “I don’t think I’m built for casual sex,” I replied. “I know myself, and it wouldn’t be long before I was in and casual went out the window. Friendship is pretty much all I’m capable of at the moment.”

  “That’s a shame,” Kieran said finally. “Friendship is so much better when orgasms are involved.”

  “Amen,” Liam replied.

  Chapter Three

  Kieran

  I hopped from one foot to another, shuffling backwards and forwards as Con moved the bag.

  “Now! Right, right, left! Right, right, left!” he said, calling out combinations as I hit the bag. With everything I had I hit that fucking bag, smacking the shit out of it as hard as I could. On the rare occasion that I was in a pissy mood, just the smell of Driscoll’s Gym calmed me. If it came down to calling whether I’d spent more time here or home over the years, it’d be a close one. This morning though, nothing was cutting it. I was wound up and pissed off. I just hoped I could burn off enough energy that I got rid of my bad mood as well.

  “Okay, I’m calling it. What the fuck’s up with you?” Con asked, holding the bag still.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine,” I replied. I should have known better than to lie to him. Cormac O’Connell had been my best friend since we were kids. I didn’t think he could have known me any better if we were brothers. The fecker didn’t say anything, just stood there, arms crossed, with one eyebrow raised.

  “That’s really fucking creepy you know,” I said, punching the bag. Because he’d been leaning on it, he took the brunt of the blow. Shoving it back at me, he came around and started sparing. His hands were only in wraps whereas I wore gloves, but it didn’t matter. We’d been doing this forever. He might well be heavy weight hampion of the world, but I could read Con like a book. There wasn’t a single combination he could throw at me that I hadn’t blocked at some point in our lives. We went at it for a good ten minutes, but it was still stalemate until Tommy walked in.

  “You two going at it already?” he asked. Distracted, I turned to glance at Tommy, but that was all the opening Con needed. The fucker was fast and had me in a headlock before I ever saw it coming.

  “Spill,” he said, giving me a noogie.

  “I swear, if you don’t let me go, I’m gonna punch you right in the fucking balls. Let’s see you explain why you can’t give Em kids because you were being a dick and now your balls are somewhere between your arse and your mouth.”

  Con threw his head back and laughed, but released me. He didn’t ask again, but I knew he wouldn’t let this go until he knew what was going on.

  “I like someone,” I said finally.

  “Marie. We know,” he said.

  “What do you mean you know? How can you know? Did she say something to Em?” I asked.

  “Jesus, you’re so fucking needy. When she put your balls in her purse, it looks like she gave you a shot of oestrogen as well.”

  I went to give him the finger before remembering that I was wearing gloves, so I punched him instead.

  “How did you know then?” I asked.

  “It’s not hard to figure it out, mate. Your eyes follow her like a love-sick puppy when she’s in the room. That and you lose all game when you’re with her. You could charm the birds from the trees as far as most women are concerned. When it comes to Marie, it’s not pretty.”

  “Fuck off,” I said grumpily. “Everything was going great yesterday. I was taking it slow but letting her know I was interested. Then she tells Em that she doesn’t want to get involved with anyone and that we should just be friends.”

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  “Well, I’m glad I fucking amuse you. All fucking smug now you’ve got Em ain’tcha. Imagine if I’d given you the same shit when you two first met,” I reminded him.

  “She’s your Em?” he asked.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe,” I replied, making him roll his eyes.

  “Well, I don’t know what you’re moping and bitching about. The answer seems pretty clear from where I’m standing,” he said.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “If she doesn’t like you, walk away, ’cause nobody likes a stalker. But if you think she mig
ht feel the same, pull up your big boy pants and fucking fight for her,” he replied.

  “Fight how?” I asked.

  “Look, Em was exactly the same when I met her. She only wanted friendship because she was afraid. Even getting her to speak to me was a big fucking deal. So give Marie what she thinks she wants, until she realises that you aren’t going anywhere and you aren’t going to hurt her,” he replied.

  “Irish,” I said.

  “Huh?” he replied.

  “It’s what I call her. Not Marie,” I explained, making him grin.

  “You’re in so much fucking trouble. Get ready for a ride on heartbreak train, my friend. This girl’s gonna make you work for it,” he said.

  “Is it worth it?” I asked.

  He nodded in reply. “All the best ones are.”

  I felt a little better after that. Con, however, made me pay for the cheap shot with the bag by putting me through five more rounds where he gave me his very best. I needed every ounce of concentration when we sparred these days. He was good when we were kids, but since he’d been training full-time he’d become unbeatable.

  “You ladies finished dancin’?” Danny barked at us, making us both chuckle.

  “I could go a few more rounds,” I hollered back.

  “Get’cha arse over here, boyo. You too, lads,” Danny said, beckoning us to come out of the ring and gather round with the other lads.

  “What’s going on, Danny?” I asked.

  “Kid, the boys and I have been talking about your future. Princess over here has been in the spotlight for a while,” he said, nodding towards Con. “But we’ve been watching you close too. You’ve been doing great since you gave up construction to work Con’s corner full-time, but now I want you to consider taking a shot yourself.”

  “You want me to fight?” I asked, absolutely stunned. I’d honestly never considered having a career as a professional fighter. Con was the one with all the drive and determination. I didn’t know if I had it in me to do what he did.

  “I do. If you can find the right fuel for your fire, you could be a bloody great fighter. At the end of the day, you don’t know until you try. Give it your absolute best shot. Give me absolutely everything you’ve got in the tank, and when you step out of the ring after your first fight, you’ll know for sure whether this is what you want.”

  I looked up at the faces of my mates, and there wasn’t a hint of surprise on any of their faces.

  “You fuckers all talked about this?”

  Con, Liam, Earnshaw, and Tommy all nodded in agreement.

  “What about Con?” I asked. After all, my job was to act as his corner man and prepare and train him for his next professional fight.

  “He doesn’t have another title fight for a while, and he’ll keep in shape training you,” Danny replied.

  “Time for you to feel the pain, my friend. I’ve got a tractor tyre out back with your name on it,” Con said, rubbing his hands together.

  “Bit excited there about putting me through the ringer, aren’tcha? You’ve more faith in this working than I do,” I replied.

  “Please, you’ve been training with me toe to toe my whole life. In months, you could be ready for a title fight. You just need the right motivation, that’s all. Maybe all this angst and shit over your bird will be it,” he said.

  “Jesus Christ, not another one of you getting all loved up. I’ve only just gotten over the last feckin’ wedding,” Danny replied.

  “Thanks, Con,” I said sarcastically. “I’m not loved up, Danny. Con is talking bollocks.”

  “Well, nothing new there,” Danny said.

  Con flipped me the bird, making us all chuckle. “Stop thinking about how it would feel to lose, and think for a minute about how it would feel to win,” Con said.

  With the boys all in agreement, I started to wonder if I could really do this. Everyone knew me as the lover, not the fighter. Being who other people wanted you to be was easy, finding out what you were made of was hard. Em came out of the office and headed over to us. As well as being Con’s wife, she did the books for the gym, and I had no doubt that Con and Danny would have talked to her about this.

  “What do you think?” I asked her. She wasn’t exactly a lover of boxing, not with how worried she got that we’d get hurt. It was how I knew I’d have an unbiased opinion, a voice of reason.

  “I’d prefer it if you didn’t get knocked around,” she replied.

  “Don’t worry, Sunshine, I’ll teach him to duck,” Con said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her affectionately on the head.

  “But, a very wise man once said, ‘A ship in harbour is safe, but that’s not what ships are for.’ You’re a fighter, whether you know it or not. Maybe you have one fight in you, maybe you have hundreds. There’s only one way to be sure.”

  “That Albert Einstein sure knows his shit,” Tommy said.

  “How could you possibly know that was Einstein?” Liam asked.

  “Beer mats at Seamus O’Donnell’s. They have loads of ’em with deep shit written on the back,” he replied.

  Em nodded enthusiastically. “It’s where I read it.”

  Pretty much all of us rolled our eyes at their goofiness.

  “Are we doing this shit then, or what?” Con asked.

  Fuck it. At worst I’d be humiliated and get my arse beat. I’d get over it. But I was pretty sure that sitting in my rocking chair as an old man and wondering about the chance I didn’t take would haunt me. Con was kind of right anyway. This shit with Irish had me feeling stuff I’d never felt before. Being able to vent that in training didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  “Me ma’s gonna feckin’ kill me,” I said finally.

  “She’ll smack you upside the head for agreeing to do it, and she’ll smack me for talking you into it, but she’ll be in the front row cheering you on when you hold up that belt,” Con said.

  “So what now?” I asked.

  “We try for the same belt Con did when he went for his first title. We’ve three months to train, and we’re already set up for it, thanks to Con’s training. Your ranking is ridiculously low, but you’ll get a shot on the back of his name,” Earnshaw said. Although he was officially brought in as Con’s manager, he was employed by Danny and promoted fights for all the club guys.

  “Great,” I said sarcastically. Trading on the back of Con’s name was not something I ever wanted to do.

  “This is a gift horse, Kieran. Don’t look it in the mouth,” Danny said.

  “How do you mean?” I asked.

  “You’re getting a shot because you’re in Connell’s camp and because his trainer also trains you. But your ranking is low because you don’t have many fights outside this place behind you. It works in our favour. It makes you a wild card, someone they can’t predict,” Earnshaw explained.

  “It means they can’t study your form, Kier. You get to fight any way you want and they won’t be expecting it,” Con said. I could see how that would make sense, and Con didn’t seem to give a shit how I got the fight.

  “When do we start?” I asked, almost afraid that Danny would say now. I knew what was involved in training a professional fighter, and I needed to stockpile on all the foods I wouldn’t be allowed for the next three months.

  “Tomorrow morning, 6.00 a.m. And, Kieran, you know my rule. As long as you’re in training, no sex. So whatever flirtation you’ve got going on, better go on the back burner until you’re holding that title. And I ain’t feckin’ about with this rule, boyo. You even think of fornicating or goin’ to town on yourself, and you can find another feckin’ gym to train at. I ain’t wasting my time over someone who ain’t taking this seriously,” Danny told me.

  How the fuck I could forget that rule I didn’t know. As far as Danny was concerned, it was ironclad. No fighter, married or not, was allowed to come until after the fight. It was the old way that he’d been taught. The theory was that it built the testosterone steadily until the fight where
you could release it in one blast. It was a shite rule, and I wasn’t entirely sure my dick could go three days without at least a hand job, let alone three months. The ‘no sex’ thing wasn’t so bad though. I hadn’t been with a woman since I first met Irish anyway.

  “Fine,” I agreed, with a long-suffering sigh. “But if my balls literally explode before then, it’ll be your fault,” I reminded him.

  Danny took his cigarette out of his mouth. “I’m sure I’ll live with the guilt,” he deadpanned.

  “Well, unless you need me for anything else, Danny, I’m going to sack off the rest of the day and enjoy my last few hours of freedom,” I said.

  “Of course,” Danny replied.

  “Really?” I said, kinda surprised that he wasn’t giving me shit.

  “Of course feckin’ not. Didn’tcha listen to a single word I said? We might start your professional training tomorrow, but you’re still a fighter today, ain’tcha? Now get your arse over there and give me fifty one-handed press-ups, then change sides,” Danny said. He wandered back to the office, muttering something about wasting talent and fucking ungrateful kids. As soon as he slammed the door, the lads fell about laughing.

  “Laugh it up, fuckers,” I said grumpily as I started on my push ups. When I finished those, I started on the sit ups, knowing I was best going through Con’s basic routines. If Danny caught me sloping off early, he’d go fuckin’ nuts. I only hoped I had enough energy afterwards to down at least one Daisy burger with fries before I kissed my usual diet goodbye.

  Half an hour later, Albie strolled in and started warming up on the bags. He and Em went to school together, which was how we’d all met, but he’d been training at Driscoll’s for a while now and wasn’t far short of being one of us. Seeing him reminded me of something.

  “Liam, what the fuck happened St Paddy’s Day? I thought you were bringing your fella there to meet us. Didn’t think you’d bottle it,” I said. The guys in earshot went quiet, waiting for his answer. As far as I knew, none of the lads were bothered at all about him being gay, but we were sure as fuck interested in who his boyfriend was. He darted a quick look across the gym, then back to me.