Love TKO

by Selene Chardou

  “Mr. Abandonato, I’m sorry if there’s been any miscommunication on my part. You should know by now your daughter is mentally ill. Do you think she would take losing both her children, one by murder and the other via her ex-husband, as a positive event in her life? Do I want to see you do that to your own daughter? Fuck no…” He trailed off in defeat.

  Raymond glared at him. “What’s your answer, son? You can end all of this now by simply agreeing, and deep down, you know it.”

  “I know and here are my terms. I can’t work more than two or three more years. However, if you need something in writing then I will sign a bonding contract. The only exception is if I am wounded to the point that I won’t be able to fight again. If that is the case then I want a healthy payout via a legitimate insurance company. Am I understood?”

  Angelo nodded, his cold green eyes wide with excitement. “That can be arranged.”

  “Good. As long as we are on the same page.” Torin stood and turned to face all three men. “What happens now? I mean, does Sienna still lose her son?”

  Karl shook his head sadly. “The attorney has been hired. Nino wants to go back to Baltimore and who’re we to stop him? He wants his son. Are you gonna deny a man the right to raise his own child?”

  Raymond glanced at Torin dismissively. “That decision is not yours to make. When you have children of your own, you’ll understand.”

  He nodded his head. “When should I come back?”

  “Tomorrow morning. We leave for Reno at noon so make it early,” Angelo responded without bothering to look him in the eyes.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Angelo stabbed the table with one of his index fingers. “Don’t break this deal, pal, or we’ll wash our hands of you, do you understand?”

  “You don’t have to worry about any deals bein’ broken. Just don’t ask me to throw a fuckin’ fight and we’ll be peachy, got it?” Torin plastered on a smile before he left the room and shut the double doors behind him.

  He waited until he’d walked to the elevator and boarded it. Once it closed, he allowed himself a small smile. They’d fallen hook, line, and sinker for his plan. Now he would get a few more years in before he would retire and also pay off the money he owed for rescuing Chiara.

  Funny, he never had considered her debt to be an imposition. She was his future wife and he would leave out that part of the deal,when he told her. No one should have to hear their former pimps regarded them as property that needed to be paid off before he owned in full.

  Besides, the contract was bound to have a confidentiality agreement. He’d be surprised if one wasn’t included. In the meantime, he would enjoy the rest of the day with his woman. Something good had come out of all this ugly, petty bullshit surrounding money. At the end of the day, he still had the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and he could afford to make a few sacrifices as long as that happened.

  TORIN ARRIVED HOME to the sound of musical laughter.

  Amelie and Angelo had changed into their swimwear and were about to spend some quality time in his large swimming pool few people had rarely used. Chiara sat next to Sienna in a sundress while Kieran busied himself playing with the kids.

  What a gorgeous sight, he thought to himself.

  Torin had convinced himself years ago he’d make a terrible father due to his childhood of beatings by a drunken asshole but now he knew he wouldn’t mind seeing Chiara in the family way. Of course he wanted them to have a couple years together on their own but until that time, he could dream about how beautiful she would look with her belly swollen, filled with a child that had come from his seed.

  It convinced him all the more he’d done the right thing, especially when Angelo Abandonato had made those allegations about what he planned to do. How could a man do that to his own daughter and look at Torin with a straight face? He just didn’t understand that way of thinking at all.

  Or maybe he did. His father lived in the house with a woman he loved and she’d given him four boys who he beat since they were old enough to remember. That certainly wasn’t a definition of “love” he ever planned to bestow upon Chiara any time in their marriage.

  He had so much shit, so many demons to conquer and defeat within himself but the main one was convincing himself he was nothing like his father.

  It was hard to separate the person he thought he was and the person he wanted to be when they’d both committed the same criminal act. He could never escape the basic fact he’d murdered his own father. No matter how much he ran from that Torin and convinced himself he was the “new” one that painful truth would always lurk in the back of his mind.

  “What’s the matter? You’re white as a sheet. Are you okay?”

  He finally lifted himself from his funk long enough to glance down at Chiara. She looked beautiful but worried as she sat on the edge of the sofa.

  Kieran stopped playing with the kids and turned to do a quick once-over of his big brother. “Geez, man. What the fuck happened to you?

  “Life.” Torin shrugged his shoulders. “Listen, I’m gonna change and then I’ll join you all outside in the back yard.”

  His brother nodded though his blue eyes were unreadable and he didn’t look happy.

  Torin walked upstairs to his bedroom and shortly after removing his shoes, he sank down to the floor. His world was in a tailspin. The night before, he’d been victorious in a fight and had proven himself to be a Champion in the UFC but today, he felt like nothing at all.

  The pain he’d attempted to hide was so palpable and he couldn’t begin to dig himself out the black hole, no matter how hard he tried. He began to cry tears of anguish, pain and misery. Convincing himself he’d taken the high road and prevented even more damage than what had already been inflicted did him little good. He’d run from these feelings for so long, whether it was burying the way he was feeling in a bottle of Jameson when he was younger or continuing to fight now that he was older. It was the only time he felt a modicum of relief.

  Continuing to thrive in his sport was the only way he could live with himself at this point and not destroy everything and everyone around him.

  “Sweetie, are you coming outside to join everyone?” Chiara inquired in a cheerful voice.

  Torin looked up in her direction, and her facial expression changed from elated to concerned before his very eyes. She ran over and knelt before him. He couldn’t think and rather than spoken words, which would mean fuck all at this point, he wrapped his arms around her waist and sobbed as she held him.

  “It’s gonna be all right, babe, but you have to tell me what the hell’s going on? What happened at that meeting?”

  He refused to say anything for a long time because crying allowed him to free all the pent up frustration he couldn’t deal with it anymore. He knew he must have looked like a sorry bitch, and surely not the alpha male he was supposed to be but he was tired of acting aggressive or angry to express his inner pain. There had to be a better way than that.

  “Raymond kept his promise,” he finally stated. “He gave me the photos of the crime scene and told me they had no intention of ever releasing them to the PSNI. We both know that wasn’t the issue though. Angelo is still pissed because…”

  “Because of what?” Chiara questioned soothingly.

  Shit, he couldn’t tell her the truth. Honesty should have been the best policy but not here, not at that moment. He would never fault her for anything that’d gone wrong in the past year when she was only good thing that’d come out of it. He couldn’t lose her and refused to over bullshit.

  “He’s pissed I didn’t throw the fight. He threatened Sienna’s children—he’s hired an attorney for her ex-husband, Nino Rossi. Apparently the prick wants to go back to Baltimore and take their son with him. Angelo thinks this is a good idea. He meant to harm Amelie unless I agreed to the kinder, gentler deal Raymond proposed,” Torin explained in a solemn tone.

  Chiara froze as Torin unclasped his arms from around her
waist, and looked her in the eyes. “That no good son of a bitch! I always knew he couldn’t be trusted but to put a hit out on his own grandchildren—who does that unless you’re one hundred shades of fucked up? What kind of deal did Raymond offer you?”

  “To stay in the game for another few years. He doesn’t want me to retire just yet.” He stood, grabbed several Kleenex from a box on the vanity mirror table and blew his nose. “I can still fight so there’s no problem there. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to retire, I was relieved when they asked me to carry on and settle my debt that way. I need to fight because it’s the only therapy I’m gettin’ at the moment.”

  “Then we have to change that, babe.” Chiara stood and strode to him. “Torin, you can’t keep doing this—punishing yourself for something that wasn’t entirely your fault.”

  “I killed my father. How do I ever forgive myself for somethin’ like that, love? You tell me.” He crossed his arms against his firm chest and hung his head his head in defeat.

  “You won’t forget, Tor, and I’m not suggesting that you do however the coping skills you’re using now aren’t helping. I suggest we both start seeing a therapist as soon as possible. It’ll be healthy for us and our relationship.” She stepped closer and gripped one his forearms. “Do you think I don’t live with demons? The whole time this has been hanging over our heads, I have been tuned up on happy pills and smoking joints like they’re going out of style. I don’t think normal, healthy people cope with their issues that way…do you?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know any normal, healthy people so I wouldn’t know how the other half pretends to live in this country. In Belfast, you go down to your local pub, drink your troubles away with your best mates and pass out next to your significant other after a good night.”

  “What constitutes a great night?” she deadpanned.

  “You can still get your cock up to fuck her,” he replied in a sarcastic voice. “It’s not just Belfast or Northern Ireland—it’s like that in Scotland, Wales and England too. It’s what we do. Everyone knows Brits are belligerent and ugly drunks. Germans get loud, the Scandinavians drink away their problems in silence, the French are…well, French…and get drunk but they prefer to fuck at the end of their night out excursions and the Brits love to fight.”

  “And you’re telling me this…why? Are you trying to scare me away because I don’t frighten easily.”

  “I’m telling you how it is.” Torin glared at her with icy blue eyes that softened once they honed in on her beautiful face. “I might be Irish by birth but I’m also British too and it’s our fucking culture. I wanted to retire because I thought Kieran deserved a chance in the spotlight without me overshadowing him. He’s worked hard enough for it. If I’m on the circuit for the next few years, it’s inevitable we’ll meet up eventually and I don’t want to fight my brother in the octagon, you feel me?”

  “Yeah, I do, Tor.” Chiara stared at him with bright amber eyes. “What does all of this have to do with us attending therapy sessions? We both need them.”

  “Where I come from, happy pills, alcohol and dope are maintenance drugs.”

  “Maintenance for what?”

  “Life.”

  Chiara laughed out loud. “Okay, let me get this straight. There’s nothing wrong with me because my behavior is perfectly normal, even though I know I should probably get off Xanax and stop smoking marijuana? It might be legal for medical reasons but I don’t suffer from any of the diseases it’s prescribed for, Tor. I know all those years in my chosen profession fucked me up in the head. I’m not stupid. Human beings aren’t supposed to live that way and I did…for over nine fucking years.”

  Torin pulled her close and held her. “Fine, we’ll find a therapist and talk about our problems. If you think it will make the situation better then I’m happy to do it but it doesn’t change what’s going on now. I gave them my word I would continue to fight. I know you wanted to leave—”

  “And go where?” she shot back. “I told you that was all a pipe dream. I can want to leave but that doesn’t mean I will. I would never leave my sister. Not when Sienna, Amelie and Angelo are all the family I have until we’re married and then I’ll have you. But in gaining you, I won’t have Angelo. You’ve already told me the son of a bitch he’s named after has started proceedings on behalf of Nino. He’s a good guy—a family man—but he doesn’t have any family here now that he and Sienna are divorced and I hear Baltimore County is pretty decent.”

  “I think his family lives in Baltimore City by the grimace Raymond gave Angelo when he brought the situation up.”

  “Well, it’s a city I’ve never explored so maybe oceanfront property comes at a premium like every other place in the country. God knows Angelo wouldn’t send him packing and stir up this much shit without leaving the guy a nice little nest egg. Believe me, he isn’t going back home broke and without a pot to piss in.” Chiara clasped one of his hands into hers and squeezed it affectionately. “We’ll be all right, baby. I can take what they’re willing to put you through as long as you’re okay with it.”

  Torin kissed her lips and held her in his arms. “Believe me when I say I’m okay with the arrangement…for now.”

  THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, Torin drove back to Vogue Hotel and Casino and signed the deal. It was an iron-clad agreement that stated he would fight for at least two more years and no longer than four. If he suffered from an injury in the octagon which prevented him from fighting then the deal was null and void and payment would be rendered in a manner satisfactory to all parties involved.

  He had no problem scrawling his signature at the end of the document in front of both an attorney and a notary.

  Afterwards, he left the hotel and drove back to Chiara’s where they were staying for a few days. She’d cooked one his favorite meals of beer-battered cod and freshly cut, seasoned chips, all fried in olive oil. Kieran and Sienna joined them shortly before dinner was served.

  His soon-to-be sister-in-law was in rare form that night as they sat down at the table.

  “Look at you, all Joan Cleaver and shit. Cookin’ meals like you’re a regular housewife, ain’t ya?”

  Chiara rolled her eyes as she sipped from a wine glass of cold Pinot Gris. “Will you lay off, Sienna? I can’t cook my man dinner? He’s cooked for me you know.”

  “Listen, when I was married to Nino, he never got a home cooked meal from me in his life.”

  “Maybe that’s why he left you. They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

  “Yeah, well you can take that shit to the bank ‘cause ain’t nothin’ goin’ on but the rent. And Nino didn’t leave me because of my lack of cookin’ skills.” Sienna shot daggers from her green eyes. “But then again, you would know about all of that more than me. Torin here got himself a nice piece of work, don’t he? A lady in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. Thank God you ain’t chargin’ his ass because he’d be bankrupt within a year.”

  He didn’t know whether to say anything but in the end, he decided it was between the sisters although he did glare at his brother.

  “I’ve had enough from you over the years, Sienna. You think you can just skate through life while everyone else does the heavy lifting?”

  “Chiara—”

  “—if you use your sickness one more time as an excuse, I’ll scream. Don’t ‘Chiara’ me, and think everything’s gonna be okay. It’s what you always do when you think something is going to change and you’re not agreeing with the end result. Why don’t you focus on yourself and your children for a change rather than worrying about what is going on in my life?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me just fine.” Chiara glanced at Torin before she looked back to her sister. “Nino has hired an attorney and he’s seeking sole custody. He plans to move back to Baltimore. No doubt he’ll have enough money to buy a waterfront condo or townhouse and send Angelo to a nice Catholic school. It also means the end of him pi
ning after you and proof he’s ready to move on. I think it’s time you stopped living in the past—blaming your illness for everything you do to hurt people—and do the same.”

  Sienna stood from the table. “I don’t have to listen to this horseshit. If you wanna behave like this then I’m going home—”

  “Fine. Go home.”

  “Aren’t you coming?” she questioned Kieran.

  “Yeah, I’ll be over. Let me finish eating,” he replied after he’d swallowed the food in his mouth.

  Torin sighed. “Do you think you should have told her?”

  Chiara looked in his direction before she picked up a French fry and ate it. “She needed to know, Tor. I don’t expect her to hire a lawyer and fight back though she might try. There’s no way a judge in his right mind’s going to give her sole custody of Angelo. If it’s a choice between Nino and her, she’ll lose, cut and dry.”

  Kieran cleared his throat. “According to Chiara, she told me about your change of plans.”

  “Yeah, speaking of change, why didn’t you follow Sienna out when she threw her tantrum?” she inquired before she began to eat a forkful of cod.

  “Because you’re right. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach and I happen to like your cooking,” Kieran retorted before he dunked several fries into ketchup and ate them with an expression of satisfaction on his face.

  She smiled in triumph before glancing over at Torin.

  “I’ve decided not to retire after all. I would drive Chiara crazy if I was here all the time, I have no interest in being a trainer and besides, what else am I gonna do. The next ultimate fight is between you and me, apparently, and there are certain…powers that be who want to see it happen.”

  Kieran laughed as he finished his food and downed the rest of his Guinness. “Bring it on, big brother. That would be quite fun. Just remember to cut me some slack. I don’t particularly want to leave the octagon lookin’ like I got my ass beat seven ways to Sunday—”

  “Who ever said I would automatically win?” Torin winked at his younger brother as he stood.