“Don’t worry. I’m sure when he gets a few more of those ribs shots in, he’ll feel better about himself,” he replied. “There best not be any rib ticklin’, ya hear me? He’s got eleven pounds on you, and I want you to make him drag ’em round every inch of that canvas. You spent most of ya life shakin’ your arse. Don’t see any reason for you to stop now.”
The bell rang just as Con shoved my guard back in my mouth. If I thought Schmidt would be intimated by the fact that I’d broken his nose, I was wrong. His old man had let it rip in the break, and I was guessing that Schmidt blamed me for it. For seven rounds, I wore him down, but this fucker knew what I was about. He’d learned his lesson in round one, and he wasn’t making the same mistake twice. Darting to the right, I threw a left-right-left combination to his face, making the fatal mistake of leaving my liver unguarded. The fucker had me. He pounded a jab into me so hard, I figured I’d probably be pissing blood for a week. I was falling to my knees when he came in with a right uppercut and I saw stars. My head flipped back so far it felt like my back was breaking, but with my knees already buckled, I sprang forward and fell face first onto the canvas.
The crowd around me erupted, and the lights blurred together. The ringing in my ears was so loud. At first, all I could hear was the crowd, then the counting. By three, I heard Danny’s voice.
“Get up! Open your eyes and climb those feckin’ ropes!” he screamed.
I did it instinctively. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing, but Danny rarely screamed. So when he did, it was instinct to do what I was told. Grabbing onto the first ropes, I pulled myself to my knees. By the count of seven, I was on my feet and had come round. That fucker had me seeing stars, but he hadn’t knocked me out. It was a close call, but I’d made it to my feet before the count. I spent the last few seconds convincing the referee that I was fine. When he let us go, Schmidt flew at me. Determined to capitalise on my mistake, he threw combination after combination. I did well to fend them off, but I was literally saved by the bell.
“How ya doin’, kid?” Danny asked, as he examined my side. Con filled my mouth with water, and it took a strength of will to lean to the side to spit it back out. My face was bleeding heavily, and I was a little shocked that uppercut hadn’t knocked loose a few teeth.
“I’ll be honest, Danny. I’ve been better.” I was heavily winded, and if he caught me like that again, I wouldn’t just be knocked out, I’d be hospitalised.
“If you could avoid getting knocked down again, I’d appreciate it. Your ma’s been givin’ me evil looks since the bell went, and I don’t fancy havin’ my balls busted all night.”
“Ah, Danny, good to know that you care,” I said, wheezy and laughing, fuck knows why. I was getting my arse kicked.
The bell rang out again, way before I was ready. During the next round, I guarded so well that Schmidt wasn’t landing any body shots. Minute by minute, I was slowly wearing him down, but that last round had definitely taken the edge off my speed. The game plan was all for shit if I was knocked out before the twelfth round. Slumping back down on my stool as the bell rang, I had to face facts. I was losing, and losing badly. There was no way I was winning this thing on points. It was a knockout or nothing, and Schmidt had never lost, let alone been knocked out.
“Marie’s ex is here,” Con told me.
“What the fuck!” I said, my gaze finding her in the crowd.
“She has no idea what he’s doing here, but she thinks he’s come to check you out. Tommy passed the message on,” he explained.
I searched the crowd, but it was pointless. I had no idea what he even looked like.
“Now don’t go stressing yourself out. Liam, Tommy, and Albie ain’t letting her out of their sight. But you can’t lose, Kier, not in front of Marie and not in front of her fuckin’ ex either. You go back in there and you do what you do best with me. You look for Schmidt’s tells. Look for his weakness, and then you knock him the fuck out. You show Marie’s ex just how fuckin’ badarse you are, and you make sure he knows you ain’t to be messed with,” Con said, pumping me up with every word.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and this wasn’t about me and Schmidt anymore. It was about a man standing between me and the girl I loved. If her ex was here, she needed me. And if I had to go through Schmidt to get to her, so be it. The bell rang out and I stood, invigorated. Jumping up and down, I rolled my head around my shoulders to loosen up the muscles and went to work.
I ducked and sidestepped as he chased me around the ring. Throwing punch after punch that didn’t connect was tiring him, and I could see his frustration with each jab that sailed past me. He’d convinced himself that he’d won, but that weakness was back. He needed reassurance. From his coach, from his father, and, to his detriment, the judges. His gaze flicked to them briefly as I narrowly dodged a killer right hook. And there it was. My opening. Distracting him with a solid left hook to his liver, I followed it up with a right jab to the ribs. When his hands dropped to protect his body, I delivered the same uppercut that he’d given me. He fell hard against the ropes. I hadn’t knocked him out, but on the ropes was exactly where I wanted him.
I used his face like my personal punching bag. He tried to defend himself, but I deflected blow after blow with ease. Con was right. This guy didn’t have twelve rounds in him. He was worn out. I was seconds away from a knockout when the fucking bell rang. He staggered back to his corner as I slumped down hard on my stool, pissed off and frustrated.
“That’s more like it,” Danny said, swiping the sweat off my face with a towel, then salving up the worst of my cuts.
“I didn’t knock him out,” I said, panting.
“He’s got nothing left in the tank, Kier,” Con told me. “Keep focused, stay moving, and when he drops his guard again, make him kiss the canvas.”
I nodded in agreement, and I knew he was right. I needed the knockout, and he knew that. All he needed was to stay on his feet for two more rounds. The eleventh round was bloody and brutal. My face was a mess, but so were his ribs. He was exhausted, we both were, but he was content to wait out the round blocking and staying off the ropes.
Danny sorted my face out as I sat down again.
“This is it, kid. One more round. This is the round that’s going to define the rest of your life. The round that your da would ’ave given his heart and soul to see. You push away all that tired and hurt and you focus. This is your fight. Your moment. You define what happens today, not him. Get this done and let’s go home,” Danny told me. He squeezed the back of my neck in support, then moved out of the way to let Con come in and hydrate me.
“How’s my face?” I asked him, knowing it was a mess.
“Still pretty, but not as pretty as mine,” he answered, making me chuckle.
“My girl doin’ okay?” I asked.
“Oh yeah. Tommy’s taking great care of her,” he answered, smirking.
“Fuck he is,” I said, leaning over to try and see them.
“Take it easy,” he replied. “That girl is head over heels for you. You knock this fucker out, and she’s gonna be here kissin’ it all better. Just remember, you got three minutes, Kier. That’s it. Three minutes. So ask yourself, how badly do you want this? There ain’t nothing in this world stronger than us.”
He grabbed onto my neck as he touched his head to mine in a gesture of solidarity.
“You hit him and keep on hitting him until it’s done, you hear me?” he whispered before letting me go.
Round twelve was just as fierce. Schmidt had this sewn up on points, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of me. For two minutes, our roles reversed as I chased him around the ring. We traded punch for punch, but he could barely lift his arms. He hit the ropes and took a second to rest before moving his feet, but that was all the time I needed. Keeping out of range of those body shots of his, I jabbed repeatedly to his face. I had a long reach and I was quick, too quick for him to get a decent hit in before I went back to pulverising wha
t hadn’t been the prettiest of faces to begin with. His nose was well and truly fucked, and he could barely see out of the black eyes I’d given him. When he relented and raised his hands to protect his face, I pounded into his ribs as hard and as fast as I could. Hours and hours on the speed ball had burned this into my muscle memory. When he dropped his hands to his body, I went to work on his face again. I had no idea how long it was until the bell, but I was determined to make him feel every second of it.
I barely registered the pull on my arm. It wasn’t until the referee moved between the two of us, and pushed me away as he waved at the judges, that I realised the fight was over
Stumbling back to my corner, I barely reached it before Con climbed between the ropes and lifted me off my feet.
“You did it! You fuckin’ did it, you crazy bastard! You’ve won!” Con screamed at me. I swore, he never looked this happy when he won his own fights.
He put me down, but kept his arm around me. It was pretty much the only thing keeping me up at this point. I looked over as Schmidt’s camp started pouring into the ring to see that the ref had Schmidt on his feet and was telling him the score. He looked battered and dazed, and I’d hazard a guess that I probably wasn’t looking much better. When Danny finally made it to my side, his eyes looked suspiciously wet.
“I’m so feckin’ proud of ya, kid. So feckin’ proud. You did it, son,” he said.
“We did it,” I replied and pulled him in for a hug.
I tried to see Marie and the guys, but camera crews, officials, and sponsors had swarmed the canvas. Finally, the referee called Schmidt and me to the middle, where he held onto our wrists.
“Ladies and gentlemen, after two minutes and forty-six seconds, in the twelfth and final round, and by way of technical knock-out, your winner and new IBF heavyweight champion, Kieran ‘The Storm’ Doherty,” the MC called out my name and held up my arm to the crowd who went absolutely nuts. I closed my eyes, not believing that I’d actually done it, and when I opened them, I swore I could see my father’s proud face in the crowd.
Chapter Twenty
Marie
As his name was called, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. Watching the match was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. Win or lose, I couldn’t stand to see him take any more hits. But this was his fight, his moment, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
Cannons streamed confetti down on the ring as the song “Hall of Fame” boomed out through the speakers. When the referee had waved off the fight, Kathleen and I had hugged each other so hard I’m surprised that neither of us had broken a rib.
“I’m so glad that’s over,” I admitted to her.
“Me too. I don’t think I could take another three minutes,” she replied.
Tommy had disappeared when the bell sounded, leaving us with Liam and Albie. He emerged back through the crowd with a big smile on his face.
“The ring’s too crowded. We won’t be able to get to them, so Con wants us to wait back at the dressing room,” he explained and ushered us all towards the back of the arena. Every aisle was heaving with people cheering and dissecting the rounds, so it took us a while.
“I hope you’re ready for a good party. The boys are going to be buzzing for weeks about this one,” Em said as security let us pass. We were all staying together at a hotel in London tonight, and Con and Kier’s friends who hadn’t been at the fight were all meeting us there for a drink later.
“Well, I’ll stay for a stiff gin and tonic or two, for my nerves, and then I’m going home to bed before the boys get too rowdy. I’m absolutely exhausted after that. I’m so pleased he won, but honestly, I think I’m going to be having nightmares for weeks seeing my little boy getting hit like that,” Kathleen replied.
“Are you sure he’ll make it to the party?” I asked worriedly. “He looked pretty banged up.
“This is Kier, Marie. Hell will freeze over before those boys aren’t ready to party after a fight,” Em said. “No matter how drunk he is tonight though, try and get him to take an ice bath. It will help ease the stiffness tomorrow. If he won’t cooperate, run him a warm bath tomorrow. He’s going to struggle to get up in the morning.”
Celebrations were already in full swing when Con, Kier, and Danny strolled in a little while later. After his mother fussed over him and he’d accepted congratulations from everyone, he saw me. I hung back to give his mother some time and to take it all in. But when his gaze found mine, I knew that look in his eyes meant trouble. I was leant against the wall as he stalked towards me. Lacing his fingers with mine, the wraps on his hand scratching against my palms, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine.
“I love my brothers, each and every one of them, but there’s no amount of money in the world I wouldn’t give for this room to be empty right now and for you to be naked up against this wall with your legs wrapped around my waist. Or lying down with them wrapped around my neck. Either works for me,” he whispered in my ear. The noise of the guys’ revelry slipped away, and with Kier surrounding me so completely, it felt as though we were in our own little world.
“I feel like Little Red Riding Hood. You look like the big bad wolf who’s come to eat me,” I told him.
“Give me an hour and a locked door, and I just might.” He buried his nose in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply, making me whimper. “Now who’s bad, getting herself all wet while standing in the same room as my mother,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh my God, it’s totally not my fault. It’s like a proximity alarm in my knickers that goes off every time you’re near.” I whimpered, making him burst out laughing. The laughing turned to coughing, followed by a little wheezing.
“Let’s go and see the doctor, baby. I really don’t like the sound of that,” I said. I knew it was bad when he didn’t argue with me, letting me lead him by the hand back to the guys.
Turned out that Kieran was banged up pretty good, bruised ribs, severe cuts, and swelling to his face. It looked like he’d strained or pulled a muscle in his shoulder as well. The doctor didn’t think that anything was broken, but ordered bed rest until the bruising on his ribs went down.
“Best advice I’ve had all day,” Kieran remarked with a wink at me.
“Jesus Christ, I’m rich!” Tommy exclaimed.
“What do you mean, Tom,” Kier asked.
“Shit! Me too,” said Liam, looking at his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re checking online to see what our winnings are,” Tommy explained.
“You bet on me?” Kieran asked incredulously.
“Hell yeah,” Tommy replied. “You were a sure thing. Seemed stupid not to make a profit out of it.”
Kieran grinned broadly, pleased that he’d made the boys some money, but more likely touched by the fact that they’d believed in him enough to bet against the odds.
“How much did you win?” Kieran asked them all.
“Me and Albie didn’t have much to spare, because we just got our own place, but we scraped together a hundred-pound bet. We got back two thousand,” Liam said.
“Five hundred quid for me,” Tommy piped up.
“I may have made a little money too,” Kathleen said, as she sheepishly patted her hair.
“How much, Ma?” Kier asked.
“Same as Liam,” Tommy said. Your ma didn’t think it was seemly for a lady to go into the bookies, so I put the bet on for her,” he said.
“Good for you,” Kier replied, smiling at her.
“How much did you make, Con?” I asked. I figured he was used to the betting, because the boys must have put down some money on his fights in the past.
“Don’t ask me,” he replied, crunching down on an apple. “Ask my banker. Em takes care of the money in our house.”
Em was busying herself around the room, doing anything she could to avoid looking people in the eyes.
“Em, love, how much did we make?” Con asked suspiciously. �
�I saw a betting slip on the notice board and figured you’d put down some money on Kier, but I didn’t look to see how much.”
She mumbled something that none of us could hear.
“Come on, Em, confess. How much of the green stuff you taking home?” Tommy pushed.
We all knew that Em was a brilliant mathematician. She was also one of the most fiscally cautious people I’d ever met. Finally, she turned around and put her hands on her hips as though expecting confrontation.
“I said we made twenty thousand pounds,” she admitted. Con choked on his apple, and Em rushed to slap him on the back until he could breathe again.
“Holy fuckin shit, babe. I figured you’d put down twenty quid. Not…,” Con said, stopping to try and calculate how much she would have bet for the return.
“A thousand. I bet the last of the waitressing money that I had left. I’ve been trying to give it to you for the best part of a year, but seeing as you won’t take it, I decided to invest it. Are you mad?” she asked him quietly.
“No, Sunshine. It was a good bet,” he said. They gave each other puppy eyes as he shared his apple with her. I swore she could have bet their life savings, and he wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. He was that crazy for her.
“Well, it looks like Father Pat won’t be the only one celebrating then. Drinks are on Con and Em tonight,” Kier announced as he slung his arm around my shoulders. Con rolled his eyes, but smiled. The man was nothing but generous to his friends with his money, and I knew he probably would have paid for tonight’s party with or without their windfall.
“I’m going to clean up. Ma, we’re going to catch a lift with Con and Em, but there’s cars booked outside to take everyone to the hotel, so Liam and Tommy are going to take you and Danny now if that’s okay,” Kier said to his mother.
“Are you sure you’re okay? What if you get dizzy and fall in the shower?” she said.
“Don’t worry, Marie is coming in with me for that very reason,” he answered, wearing a sexy smirk.
The Storm Page 17
