by London Casey
“He was a regular fighter? Like you?”
“Regular?” Cormac asked and snorted. “Yeah, he was regular. He and I were tearing things up. Winning fight after fight. Nobody could stop us. My trainer, Henry, then started talking about me and Finn going at it.”
“You two fight?” I asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah. Why not?”
“But you’re friends.”
“Exactly. We’re brothers.”
Again, the word ‘brudders’… it was kind of cute to hear.
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“The two best always end up fighting,” Cormac said. “That’s how it works. But when the two best trained together for years, rose up together, and were brothers… that’s a big deal.”
“You mean money.”
“Fucking right. Lots of money. Well over seven figures in deals.”
“So what happened? No, wait, let me guess. The woman in the picture.”
“Bingo,” Cormac said.
“It’s always a woman that ruins friendships and stuff.”
“Whoa, take it easy with assumptions.”
“Then tell me.”
“It’s not my place to do that,” Cormac said. “Sorry.”
I left the kitchen with nothing else to say to him. I wasn’t going to play a run around game. It probably wasn’t my business anyway. Time was running out on everything in my life. Just listening to myself talk about Sasha brought forward the reality of it all. I was a damn fool for trying to find her. She had to be dead. She had gone off with Zander’s crew and that was it. She probably got into drugs or maybe sold herself and then got killed. All I had to do was stay out of it. But I couldn’t let it go. Sasha was all I ever had in life. My sister. The motherly figure. Not to mention the twin connection, which, by the way, I figured had to be bullshit. I thought if I tried really hard, I could somehow find her. Like some kind of secret sense only twins had.
Yeah fucking right.
“You could be pissed off at me,” a voice said behind me.
It was Cormac.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “You’re not going to tell me a thing. Finn won’t talk. He just comes at me with these eyes… I think maybe for a second it’s real but then he gets mad and leaves. He either breaks a table or breaks me with his words.”
“Christ,” Cormac said with a slight roll of the r. “I’m sorry about that. Here’s what I can and will tell you, Shayna. He built this cabin for a woman. He had a straight life to live with that woman.”
“I already heard everything you said,” I said as I turned. “You two were close. You were fighters. You won everything. You were going to fight each other and be rich.”
“Aye. That’s right. We were going to have the entire thing build up for a year. We were going to train for our fight together.” The word together sounded like ‘togedder’… “But it all slipped away. It crashed so hard, so fast, I sometimes blame myself for not being the bigger fighter and the bigger man to carry Finn through the darkness.”
Cormac’s voice was almost poetic, sounding like ‘trew da’ dahkness’ when he spoke. He blinked fast and then cleared his throat.
Was he crying?
Then his eyes met mine. His blue eyes were glistening.
“All because of a woman?” I asked.
“You see, Shayna, not just any woman. It wasn’t what you think. Aye, both of us loved her with all our hearts. But for different reasons.”
“What does that mean?”
Cormac stepped toward me and put a hand to my shoulder. “She was my sister, Shayna. That’s why I loved her. And for Finn… he’s still not done grieving her death.”
23.
(Finn)
The punching bag was a gift from my trainer before he died. He insisted I take the old beat up thing and keep it forever. I was going to toss the damn thing, but then I got a call that he had cancer. He died before I could say goodbye, so now each time I punched the bag, I pictured him yelling at me. Telling me I was too weak. That my head was too cloudy. That my stance was all wrong.
He was a mean old man, but I loved him.
I swung my fists as hard as I could into the bag. It gave way with ease, clouds of dust still pouring from it. Shit, it had been at least a year since I hit the thing. I had hidden it in the cabin and while I never forgot about it I never had a use for it.
Until now.
I unleashed on the bag. The chains at the top rattled. My heart raced faster by the second. And a bottle of whiskey rested on a stool next to me. I didn’t have time for water. This wasn’t conditioning. I wasn’t fucking training for anything. I was trying to numb the pain in my chest.
I knew both Cormac and Shayna were watching me and I didn’t give a damn. I stood there in jeans, shirtless, and beat the fuck out of the heavy bag. They couldn’t understand what I felt inside. Worse yet, the second I looked into Shayna’s eyes, I knew she and Cormac had been talking.
Goddammit.
Part of me would have rather him fuck her than talking about my life.
About Carrie.
I groaned and threw another fury of punches. Shit, if this had been an opponent he would have wished for death. There were no refs in my world. Nobody checking on fighters, making sure things were regulated. You fucking fought. You fucking fought until you were told to stop. Because if you didn’t you’d get killed.
I threw another killer right and the bag swung like a massive pendulum, begging for more.
I took a break and grabbed the whiskey. I threw a good drink back and slammed it down.
“Hey, brother,” Cormac said. “Take a second and talk to me.”
I spun around. My knuckles were swollen. I had red marks between my fingers from the capillaries exploding against the thrust of my punches.
“What did you fucking tell her?” I asked.
“Nothing. I made it clear that it was your story to tell.”
I looked at Shayna. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“I don’t believe it,” I said.
“Fine then,” Cormac said. “What do you want me to say? I told her the truth about Carrie?”
“Don’t say that name,” I warned.
“Or that I fucked her?” Cormac said. He went chest to chest with me. “Huh? Is that what you want? I fucked Shayna while you were gone. Perfect tits, Finn…”
Tits.
Again with her tits.
I had felt them but never seen them.
Goddammit.
I pushed at Cormac.
“No!” Shayna yelled.
I threw a right and Cormac backed away. He guided my hand away and then slapped me in the face. I swung a left and he ducked. He nodded, smiled, the sick Irish bastard he was, always wanting to fight.
He swung a right hook and I read it from a mile away.
I blocked him. “Stop showing with your shoulders,” I said.
Cormac threw a jab. I got away just in time.
I swung two times at him and he kept his feet moving.
I watched his left shoulder drop.
I waited for it.
He started to throw a punch and I grabbed his arm. I dropped to my knee and tossed him over my shoulder. He hit the hard floor with a thud. I twisted his arm and picked up my boot.
“One step and I’d crush your nose into your brain,” I said.
“Aye. Still got it, huh?”
I backed up and offered my other hand, bringing Cormac to his feet.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Shayna cried out.
“Nothing,” Cormac said. “Just brothers fucking around.”
I punched Cormac’s shoulder. “Hey. Don’t talk about anything, brother. It’s my life. It’s my story.”
“I did what you asked,” Cormac said. “I kept her here. I kept her safe.”
I reached back for the bottle of whiskey and grinned. “Now we drink.”
I’d rather be fucking drunk than deal with the
feelings for my dead girlfriend and the beautiful woman in my life right now.
~
One bottle wasn’t enough for me and Cormac. That wasn’t a shock, and I had a second bottle ready to go for us. I had to give Cormac credit, he could drink anyone under the table. Even me. From the day I met him, he was a wildfire with drinking. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, he made it count.
The first time I met him, he was sleeping at the bar. Next to him was a drop dead gorgeous woman. Blonde hair with a little ginger tint to it. Bright blue eyes that shined in a poorly lit bar. I watched her for an hour. Drinking beer after beer, she raised her eyebrow at any guy that dared to talk to her.
I figured she had to have been with the guy sleeping.
So I figured, fuck it, you snooze you lose.
So I went after her.
I found out the sleeping guy was her brother - Cormac. When she said his name, his head shot up. His eyes opened. He grabbed for a shot glass and threw it back.
Next thing I knew, me and Cormac were pounding shots and beers, laughing. For the rest of the night, with each drink, I ended up closer and closer to the woman at the bar.
Carrie.
Me and Cormac ended up in a fist fight though. I’m not sure why, but after we each landed a few punches, we laughed, hugged, and declared each other brothers for life.
We were young and stupid.
I took Carrie home that night and vowed to never let her out of my arms for the rest of my life.
As I took another drink, I glanced at Shayna. She was curled up on the couch, listening to me and Cormac tell dumb, drunk stories. She laughed. She spit fire back at Cormac when he deserved it. But most of all, with each passing second, she sliced through my anger and pain like nobody had ever come close to doing before.
See, when it all went wrong, I didn’t just lose Carrie. I lost Cormac for a while too. We ended up at opposite ends of the world… him grieving the death of his sister. Me grieving the death of my girlfriend. And all we wanted was each other.
It was a bad mess. A real bad mess.
I slammed my fist down on the table. “Goddammit, Cormac. You bastard.”
“What?” he asked.
I grabbed his face with my other hand. “I love you, brother.”
“Aye, Christ, Finn. I’d rip my own arm off for ya. You know that.”
He said ‘dat’ … the more he drank, the more an Irish accent slipped out.
Get Cormac drunk enough and he’d become a blubbering fool where nobody could understand what he was saying.
Cormac and I stared each other down for a few seconds. Mentally we were tearing each other apart over Carrie. There wasn’t a thing to say or do about it. I always knew if we sat down and talked about it we’d end up drunk and fighting. The kind of fight we were supposed make millions on.
I finally broke away from Cormac and looked at Shayna. “Tell me about your sister some more.”
“Are you serious?” she asked. “You want to kill the night like that?”
“What’s wrong with her sister? Does she look like you, Shayna?”
“We’re twins,” Shayna said.
“Good Christ,” Cormac said and he stood up. He lost his balance for a second. “Good Christ in hell. Twins?”
“Stop it,” I said. “They’re not identical twins. And her sister is missing, you asshole.”
“Ah, fuck,” Cormac said. “My apologies, Shayna.”
“It’s okay,” Shayna said. “Look, I’ve made my peace with it. She’s gone. She has to be dead. Messing around with Zander’s crew… nothing good could ever come of that. She was so far away from the woman I knew. I just have to remember what she did for me growing up.”
“Aye, that’s heavy,” Cormac said.
“You have no idea where she could be?” I asked. I was dead drunk but when I focused on Shayna, everything felt sober. “You have to have something, sweetie.”
“She ran off with his crew,” Shayna said. “When I got close to Zander, he said her name a few times, but I never got any information about it. She was running for him though. I know that. She wasn’t like me.”
“Like you?” Cormac asked.
“She’s engaged to Zander,” I said. “Head of a crew.”
“Holy shit. That’s got to be a bad thing… I mean, Finn, you’re fooling around with some big guy’s fiancee.”
“Yeah, I’m a dead man walking,” I said. Then I smiled. “But it’s goddamn worth it.”
Shayna’s cheeks instantly turned red.
“Aye,” Cormac said. “You two are trouble together.”
“Finn,” Shayna said, “let it go about Sasha. I have to accept she’s gone. And if she’s not really gone, she can’t be in a good place. Right?”
I nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
“What I want is sleep,” she said.
I watched her casually get up from the couch. She lingered for a few seconds as though she wanted me to touch her, wish her goodnight, or tuck her into bed. All I did was give her a head nod. Maybe it was better if we tried to strip away anything between us. Get through tonight and start fresh tomorrow. Hopefully that meant without Fiore showing up and putting a gun to my head.
Shayna walked away and Cormac started to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Yer checking out her ass.”
“You weren’t?”
“Oh, I was. She’s got a nice ass, brother. A real nice ass. I’m wondering why you’re not in there… getting it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Christ, Cormac, you know why I built this place. How can I…” I gritted my teeth. “I never had a woman in here before. It wasn’t the place for that. Nothing ever had meaning. Besides her.”
Cormac put a hand to my shoulder and squeezed tight. Each one of his chubby Irish fingers felt like the tip of a hammer digging into my muscle.
“Let me tell you something,” he said. “Something about this one has gotten you twisted up. It’s a good thing to see.”
“Yeah? You really mean that?”
“I do. Nobody should live in pain forever, Finn. My sister ain’t living in pain. She’s somewhere else. Maybe up there in heaven, dancing to shitty music and tossing her hair around.”
“She really liked shitty music,” I whispered.
“Aye, she did. I still have her CD’s. I listen to them.”
I put my hand to Cormac’s. “I’m so sorry, brother.”
“I know. But we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did, Cormac. I slipped. I lost it all. I turned my life and desires into some kind of sick game. See how far I could go down and how much pain I could find.”
“Well, this is pretty bottom if you ask me,” Cormac said. “I’m going to hit the couch. Whiskey’s got me torn up good.”
Cormac went to the couch and crashed hard. I was pretty sure he was asleep before his head touched the cushion.
I sat there for the next hour alone, sipping whiskey and watching the fire burn. It started to die out and I knew Cormac could survive without a fire overnight. With as much whiskey as he had in his body he could survive a week in the arctic, butt naked.
Still, I stood and went to the fireplace. I grabbed two logs and tossed them in.
“What do you think?”
“It’s… trees…”
“We’re in the woods, darling.”
“I know that, Finn.”
“But right here. Right here…” I slip my hands to her waist and pull her close. “Right here, pretend we’re standing in front of the fireplace. A fire burning. A gentle snow falling…”
“Wow, look at you. All poetic. And here I thought your mouth was only good for one thing.”
“Damn, woman. You talk filthy sometimes.”
“You don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t…”
I turned from the fireplace and wiped the corners of my eyes.
My life had become a game. A game of fighting and
making money. Even when the darkness took over, I still left it as a game. A game to fight in a different way, through Fiore. And the women. They were nothing but a game.
I looked at the bedroom.
Was Shayna a game?
I walked to the bedroom and watched her sleep. She was rolled up in the sheets, but her right leg stuck out. It was bent, pulling the sheets up her body, showing off her panties and the sweet curve of her ass. Whiskey gave me temptation and my fingertips tingled as I approached the bed.
I reached down and touched the back of her thigh. I ran up to her ass and cupped her. My fingertips slipped into the back of her panties. I curled my fingers, feeling warmth. I leaned down a little, taking a breath, letting my fingers move some more. My fingers kept going, following the natural curve of her beautiful body. When I touched between her legs, she wasn’t ready, but that didn’t mean I stopped.
Shayna stirred, letting out a purring groan.
A second later, I felt the trickling of wetness. Her body’s reaction to my touch left me gritting my teeth. With two fingers, I gently rubbed her sex. The gentle moisture quickly became a flood. I had broken the dam of her desire. My fingers eased between her folds and I pressed, feeling the tightness of her entrance.
Then I froze.
I pulled back and Shayna groaned again.
I looked at her face and her eyes were open. “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please, Finn, don’t stop…”
Her hand reached for my wrist, but I was quicker. I took my hand away from her body. I grabbed the sheets and put them over her exposed body. But she didn’t stop. She grabbed my wrist, then my hand. She interlocked her fingers to mine.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I want to know everything. I want the truth.”
I slid down to my ass and put my back against the bed. I wasn’t going to sleep in the same bed as Shayna, but I wouldn’t leave her side.
We were still holding hands.
“The truth?” I said, staring nowhere. “The truth, sweetie…” I looked back at her. At the most beautiful woman I’d ever met. A woman who scared me, thrilled me, and made me want more. And I hadn’t even fucked her yet. “The truth is… we’re dead.”
