“Liked that, did you?” Kieran grinned as he took back my helmet.
“You drive like a demon, but it was amazing.”
“I was going thirty miles an hour most of the way. Con threatened to cut off my balls if ANYTHING happened to you. I don’t think I could take the pressure of giving you a ride again. Besides, I couldn’t breathe anytime we went round a corner. You’re stronger than you look, half pint.”
He rubbed his rock hard stomach as though I’d actually wounded him by clinging on so tight.
“I’m totally getting a bike one day,” I told him seriously.
He laughed out loud at me.
“Unless you can find a way to ride wrapped in bubble wrap, Con’s never gonna let that happen. Do you even know what type of bike this is anyway?”
“Of course, I do. It’s the big shiny red type. I think I’ll get one in black.”
He rolled his eyes at me smiling, but I could tell that he was pleased I’d enjoyed myself. I practically skipped into the gym because I was so excited to see O’Connell. The atmosphere inside was electric, and the place was packed.
“What’s going on?” I asked Kieran who walked in behind me.
“Danny’s got Con a fight in two weeks. The guy he’s fighting is established, meaning there’ll be sponsors there. If he puts on a show, he could get sponsorship, and that’s huge. He’ll get paid to train, and Danny can get his name out there, get him better fights.”
I was so pleased for him but terrified at the same time. An established fighter meant that he’d become established by pounding away at other heavyweights and winning. Danny didn’t usually like me hanging around in the gym when the boys were training. He never said anything to me, just scowled more than usual, which had me scuttling as quickly as I could to get to my office. The clock on the wall at the back of the gym told me that it wasn’t even five, and I wasn’t due to start work for an hour. Deciding that facing Danny’s wrath after a week of O’Connell abstinence was worth the risk, I wandered towards the ring. I found him on the floor doing sit-ups, while Mac was throwing medicine balls on his stomach. He was covered in sweat, but those abs looked like they’d been carved in ice. I didn’t want to interrupt his training, so I hung back, watching my fill. He was so fine that with every rise and fall of his chest I was getting more and more turned on. My palms were sweaty and the heat building between my thighs had me squirming where I stood, giving me away to Danny.
“You’re a bit early, aren’t you, sunshine?” Danny barked.
“Umm…” I scrambled to explain my presence at the gym. I swear that Danny was like a disapproving parent. He only had to scowl at me in a certain way, and I knew that I was in trouble.
“I thought I’d get an early start tonight and someone offered me a lift. So...” I felt like I needed to keep talking, because when I stopped, he stared at me with his arms crossed while a cigarette dangled precariously from his lips.
“And I’m a feckin’ monkey’s uncle,” he said after what felt like forever. He sighed like I was the biggest pain in the arse in the world.
“Con,” he practically shouted, “get your lazy arse up. You two get ten minutes then I want you back here with your head in the game, understand?”
“Sure, boss,” O’Connell agreed happily, as he grabbed me and started walking. I could hear Danny muttering about how he’d never get anything good out of O’Connell now that I was here.
He pulled me into the office and shut the door behind us. Before I could even say hello, he pressed me up against it, and his lips were on mine. He groaned into my mouth as he moved his hands around to my backside and lifted me to wrap my legs around his hips. His hardness against my achy core had me rubbing up against him, trying to find some relief.
“Fuck!” he hissed out loud, and I flinched at his tone.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I didn’t mean to scare you but having you like this is just about the sexiest fucking thing ever. I’d give anything to be balls deep inside you right now.”
“Aww,” I replied giggling, “you say the sweetest things.”
He didn’t reply but pressed against me harder. I stopped giggling and groaned as the ache became worse. If I’d been any other girl I’d have given him the relief that we both needed, but I wasn’t that brave, so this was as much as he was getting. Tommy probably had his ear to the door anyway. O’Connell bent his head toward me and breathed deeply, as we both tried to calm down. After a minute or two, he released me and walked over to the chair. He sat down and pulled me onto his lap, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck.
“Mmm. You smell beautiful, sunshine.” I sighed, trying to stop myself from squirming around. I was so turned on that the need to ask him to touch me was almost unbearable.
“This gets harder every time we see each other, doesn’t it,” I told him.
He groaned. “If it gets any harder, it’s likely to snap.” I laughed but immediately felt bad, because O’Connell really looked as though he was in pain.
“You know, if you were with any other girl you wouldn’t have to wait.” He knew exactly what I meant, and he didn’t like it.
“If I was with any other girl, baby, it wouldn’t be hard.”
I frowned. Of course, it wouldn’t be hard. Sex with anyone else would be a walk in the park. Most girls probably didn’t even wear underwear around O’Connell to emphasize just how easy it was.
“No, sunshine,” he chastised, reading my thoughts by the look on my face. He grabbed my hand and, bold as brass, placed it on his cock. “With any other girl, it wouldn’t be hard.”
“Oh, my God! I can’t believe I did that,” I squeaked, pulling my hand away and burying my head into his chest with embarrassment. He chuckled and hugged me against him.
“Sorry, love,” he apologised. “It just got even harder.”
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS at the gym were absolutely crazy. Every day that O’Connell trained, we could feel magic in the air. It was as though we were all part of something really special. O’Connell had so much fight and endless determination that it made us better just to be around him. For nine hours a day, six days a week, O’Connell trained RELENTLESSLY. Not once did Danny give him so much as an inch, and not once did O’Connell complain about it. If Danny said ten more sit-ups then that was exactly what he did. If Danny said that push-ups were to be one-handed, even when O’Connell was dead on his feet, then that was exactly what he did. Danny demanded, and O’Connell delivered. By the time that fight week arrived, O’Connell was sparring for ten rounds then combining half bag with half mitt work. Danny had been tapering that off as the week went on, ostensibly to allow O’Connell’s body to recuperate before the fight. Today was Thursday and weigh-in day. I didn’t get to go to the gym where it was taking place. Danny told me that it was because he was paying me good money to be working tonight and not skiving. I thought it was mean, enough that I poked my tongue out at him when he left the room. Still, I wasn’t brave enough to argue to his face. Secretly, I suspected that he didn’t want me somewhere where I would be so deeply out of my element. I couldn’t say that being left behind was any better, though. Walking through the gym was creepy. Usually bustling with life and energy, the speedballs were still and the bags hung lifelessly from the ceiling. Nearly all of the guys were at the weigh-in as a show of support for O’Connell. A few of the younger guys, that Danny wouldn’t let follow him, were allocated menial tasks around the place, and Mac had stayed to supervise. It was patently obvious that the bunch of fifteen-year-olds currently cleaning the shower room didn’t need Mac’s level of supervision. After his fifth time of checking on me in two hours, it became clear who he was really babysitting. Danny’s sense of chivalry was working overtime again, it seemed. He was out of luck, though, if he thought he was getting his money’s worth from me. I’d been like a cat on a hot tin roof all night, and it was only the weigh-in. There was absolutely no way that he was keeping me away from the f
ight tomorrow. A knock on my door pulled me back down to earth. Mac opened it and popped his head around. If he asked me if I needed anything one more time, I was going to throw something at him.
“They’re back.” He grinned.
I pushed my chair back from the desk, stood up, and raced around the door as he pushed it open further for me. O’Connell, Kieran, Tommy, and most of the older guys were stood around laughing and shooting the breeze.
“How did it go?” I asked them all, still hyped up from the anticipation of waiting for them for half the night.
“Two hundred and twenty pounds, exactly,” O’Connell replied with a grin, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.
“Is that good?” I asked. I was little confused by this new pugilist world that I’d been plunged into.
“Absolutely. Same stats as Foreman in his prime,” Kieran replied enthusiastically.
“Mmm. Foreman was the one who made the grills right?” Literally everyone looked at me and burst out laughing. Great. Halfway through a degree in applied mathematics, and I managed to sound like a complete moron.
“Yes, he’s the one with the grills, but he’s also one of the greatest fighters who ever lived. He was my height and two twenty was his weight in the prime of his career. It’s a good omen.”
I nodded shyly, not wanting to embarrass myself any further. Danny came barrelling through the door at a speed that belied his size.
“All right, you lot. I don’t know why you’re all patting yourselves on the back ‘cause he made weight. He still has to win the feckin’ fight yet.”
The guys chuckled, suitably chastised. But in all honesty, they were like kids on Christmas Eve, full of excitement and energy but no patience.
“Right, then. You all know what time it is, so make yourselves presentable and let’s get going. That includes you, sunshine. Mac round up the other boys. Cleaning time is over. Ten minutes and I’m locking this place up.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Church,” Tommy enlightened me.
I figured that this was a metaphor for something else and having embarrassed myself already tonight, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
“Go and get your coat and bag, love. I’ll walk you home after,” O’Connell told me gently. He hadn’t called me that many times before, and if it was possible, my heart just sighed. I turned off my computer, grabbed my stuff, and met them outside. Danny turned off the lights and locked the doors behind me. Our rag tag group of misfits ambled down the road to who-knew-where, with me safely tucked into O’Connell’s side. Fifteen minutes later, we were walking up the steps to St Paul’s Catholic Church.
“Shit. You really did mean church. I haven’t been to church since I was little,” I squeaked.
“No feckin’ swearing in church,” Danny barked at me, throwing his cigarette away.
I figured that this must be a serious religious occasion because it had only been half smoked. The church was empty as we all went inside, and the guys all sat down on the last two rows at the back of the church. Not knowing what to do, I sat down with them. The sound of a door closing echoed across the cavernous ceiling, and I looked around to see a priest, not much younger than Danny, walking purposefully toward us.
“Hello, Danny,” he greeted, shaking Danny’s hand vigorously.
“Not much longer now till the big day. Is he ready?”
“Of course, he is, Father,” Danny replied.
“Good,” the priest said, “because I’ve got a fiver on him with Father Mulvey over at St Joe’s, so he’ll be in my prayers tomorrow.”
I was slightly scandalised that a priest was betting and, worse still, condoning fighting so that he could capitalise on it, but O’Connell only smiled as he listened to Danny and the priest talk.
“Right then, boys. Who’s going first?”
Tommy stood and shook the priest’s hand.
“Ah, Tommy. You’re usually the longest. You’re better off going first.”
They walked off together into a room with a thick, mahogany door, built into the panelling of the wall.
“Where are they going?” I whispered to O’Connell, whilst keeping an eye on Danny for fear of another telling off.
“Confession,” he replied.
“Why?”
“Danny figures that to win in the ring you need to go in with a clear heart and a clear head. We tell Father Patrick what’s on our mind and all the things we’re sorry for and he gives us absolution. Then we spend all our time after the fight committing more sin ready for the fight,” he explained.
“But it’s only you fighting. Why is everyone else here?”
“Doesn’t matter who’s fighting, even if it’s one of the kids. When one of us goes into the ring, everyone from Danny’s is with them.”
Whether they realised it or not, they were Danny’s family and he was theirs. One by one, the guys went in to see Father Patrick. By the time the last of the kids was done, I was more than ready to leave. Don’t get me wrong, the church itself was beautiful, but I felt out of place here. I was an intruder eavesdropping on a ritual that I had no part of. This was a part of Danny’s relationship with the guys, and I didn’t understand why he’d brought me.
“Emily, are you ready?” Father Patrick’s accent was broader than Danny’s, and I wondered if they were from the same part of Ireland.
“I’m sorry, Father, ready for what?” I asked confused.
“Confession, my dear,” he replied with a smile. I felt the first fluttering of panic, as I was cornered.
“But...but I’m not a practicing Catholic,” I stuttered.
“Never mind, dear, nobody is perfect.”
He stood patiently as he waited for me to follow him. I turned to O’Connell who squeezed my hand, clearly expecting me to go through with this. Sensing that I had no other option, I stood and walked with the priest to the side of the church. Behind the door was a small anti-room with two chairs facing one another.
“Have a seat,” he invited, as he sat down.
“Now, don’t worry, I won’t be asking you for a confession. But I did think that it would be nice for us to have a chat. Now tell me how you ended up tagging along with that lot.”
I explained how Danny had given me the job, and he nodded thoughtfully.
“Do you have any family yourself, Emily?” he asked when I’d finished. Technically, I still did, but I’d never think of them as family again. It felt wrong lying to a priest, though, and my cheeks reddened as I became flustered.
“No one who means anything to me anymore,” I answered at last. He nodded as though he understood.
“Well, now. It seems that God has given you a new family, doesn’t it. It must be a difficult adjustment, though, to go from being on your own to having a large new family, and an Irish one at that.”
This wasn’t really a question, but he looked at me as though he expected an answer.
“They are lovely. Loud and brash and rude, but lovely. I don’t really think I’m considered part of their family, though,” I explained.
“You know, I have known Danny for a very long time and in all that time no woman has been invited to join them here. That tells me all I need to know about how close to being family you are.” His words warmed me, even if I didn’t quite believe them.
“I wouldn’t exactly say that I was invited,” I corrected. “Danny told me to come, and I came.”
“Well,” he chuckled, “that is Danny’s way, isn’t it. You can be sure that for all their talk they will look after you, you know. It takes time to trust people, and faith is a difficult thing to come by, but you’ll get there. And if you need to talk to me about anything, I want you to know that whatever you say will always stay between these four walls.”
“I appreciate that, Father.”
I liked Father Patrick. I didn’t know him well enough to trust him with anything personal about myself, but I appreciated the gesture.
&
nbsp; “So, are you nervous about the fight, child. You know, with Con being your man and all?” Seriously! Even O’Connell’s priest thought we were a couple.
“He’s not my man. Not really. We’re just friends.”
Father Patrick smiled indulgently at me.
“Well, we’ll keep that to ourselves shall we? Con is under the distinct impression that if you’re not now, then you soon will be, and I’d really like to win my bet. Then again, maybe you should labour the point just before the fight to make him good and mad.”
“Father!” I exclaimed, scandalised. “That’s terrible!”
He laughed out loud at my reaction and smacked his knee with amusement.
“Kieran was right. You’re so easy to wind up.” He carried on laughing until I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ve known Cormac O’Connell since he was a lad, wet behind the ears and full of mouth and mischief. Bet or no bet, there’s no one in his corner that will be prouder of him than me, save maybe Danny. That’s what family is. No matter what, they will always be in your corner as you may choose to stand in theirs. Now, is there anything else troubling you or anything that you want to ask?” I bit my lip nervously as I contemplated how to ask him.
“Actually Father, I could use your help with something.”
O’CONNELL WALKED ME home later that night, and he seemed calmer than before, as though the meeting with Father Patrick had settled him down.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” I asked him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for a fight. The hard part is the waiting. Danny doesn’t let me train the day before a fight, other than a few warm-up drills a few hours before. You’re in uni and Kieran’s working, so I’m just gonna watch a few old fights on tape, maybe listen to some music, and get my head where it needs to be.”
“I can skip class tomorrow if you want me to,” I offered, even though I’d never missed a single class since I’d been here.
“I love that you’re so smart,” he told me. “Your eyes light up when you talk about school. It means to you what boxing means to me, so I don’t want you to miss a single class for me. As long as you’re at the fight, I’ll be good.”
The Hurricane Page 14
