Page 64 of Fighting for Irish
When he stepped in to get a closer look, a neon sign that read open sputtered on and the sound of the lock clicking preceded the jangling of bells as a woman in gypsy garb pushed the door open. “Well, don’t just stand there. You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?”
She didn’t wait for a response to her cryptic greeting before retreating into the shop. Without knowing why, he followed her.
Five minutes later he jogged up the poorly lit stairwell of Kat’s apartment with a small velvet pouch tucked into his pocket. Eager to see her, he rapped on her door, ignoring the pain from his bruised knuckles. He waited several seconds then tried pounding a few times with the side of his fist. She wasn’t answering, but he knew she was home. He’d seen her car in the back.
“Kat, open up. We need to talk.”
Nothing. Not even a “go away” or “fuck off.” He’d rather have her anger than silence. He knew how to deal with anger, how to combat it, defend against it. But this was a whole different animal. Did she hate him? Regret ever being with him? The very thought twisted his gut until he actually grabbed his stomach. Say something, asshole. Fix this.
“Kat, I’m so fucking sorry.” He rested his forehead against the door and hoped like hell she could hear him. “I should have told you the truth last week. Or maybe even sooner, I don’t know. But I was afraid you wouldn’t let me get within fifty yards if you knew and something in me couldn’t let that happen.
“I tried telling myself it was because I agreed to check on you. Because I was repaying a debt to my friend. But deep down I knew that was bullshit.” Aiden pushed out an exasperated breath as he lifted his face to the ceiling. “You became an addiction. I kept time based on how many hours I got to see you in a day, how many more until I could see you the next. I fantasized about laying you down on the bar, kissing every inch of your body, and burying myself inside you until you forgot every man but me.”
Aiden pressed his hand to the door and imagined her doing the same on the other side, imagined he could feel the warmth of her palm spreading through his. “Then when I finally got to kiss you… God, I think I lost myself to you right then and there. I never expected to feel so much. A big part of me died a long time ago, but one kiss from you and it started coming back.”
The silence pressed in on him. Though she still hadn’t said anything, he was certain she stood just on the other side of the door. He could feel her there as sure as he felt the wood that separated them. Curling his hand into a fist, he barely stopped himself from punching the barrier in frustration. Instead, he rolled away from it and let his head drop back against the wall. He suddenly felt heavy, weighted down by the lies and untruths and his inability to get through to the woman he cared about more than he knew what to do with. Sliding down, Aiden sat on the dirty cement and rested his arms on bent knees.
“All I wanted to do was help you move on to a better life,” he said to the emptiness surrounding him. “I never planned on falling for you. But I did. Hard.”
He heard a soft mewling and glanced over to see a gray paw stretched out in search of something. Cold air and a shaft of light leaked from where the towel must have been pulled away by the kitten’s curiosity. Lowering his arm, he stroked the furry leg with his index finger until the little paw grabbed hold of it as best he could.
“Hey there, Murph. Guess I fucked up pretty bad, huh?”
A string of meows and flexing of toes answered him. As though the animal had actually confirmed his fears, Aiden’s stomach dropped.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” he said, trying to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. “I shoulda let Xander take point on the rescue mission and stayed out of it. I knew better than to let her get mixed up with me, but damn. Every time she looked at me I forgot all the reasons I was no good for her.” The kitten pawed at his hand. Maybe in consolation. Maybe in agreement. “Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Those baby blues probably do a number on you, too.”
Thinking of her crystalline eyes reminded him of the necklace he’d bought at the strange shop downstairs. He dug the pouch out of his pocket and slid it to the curious kitten’s paw.
“Hey, Murph, do me a solid and give this to her, will ya? I don’t know if she’ll like it, but it reminded me of her.” As expected, Murphy pulled it to him under the door. “Now don’t go carrying that off and hiding it. It’s not for you, fur ball. Sorry, the voodoo lady was fresh outta catnip.”
Aiden pushed himself off the wall and started to stand, but he stayed crouched when Murphy’s paw sought him out yet again. As fond as he was of the kitten, he wished it were Kat doing the reaching instead. No you don’t. It’s better she hate you and move on than be with you and get hurt.
Unable to resist, he let the kitten grab onto his finger one last time. “You’re not making this very easy, little buddy,” he forced out, his voice so gravelly he didn’t even recognize it. “I wish to Christ I could be the kind of man she needs. But I’m not. I’m just a broken-down fighter who ends up hurting the people closest to me, and she deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”
He finally let go of the tiny paw and stood up. His eyes burned and started to water until he blinked hard a few times to bring the dingy stairwell back into focus. “’Bye, Murph. I’m taking off after tomorrow’s fight. Take good care of her for me.”
Frustrated meows accompanied the sounds of Murphy pawing at the door. Before he could say to hell with it and beg her to let him in, Aiden spun on his heel and jogged down the stairs. Just before he pushed through to the alley, the faint echo of a woman’s cry pierced the last remaining piece of his heart.
…
Tears streamed down Kat’s face as she continued to sit on the floor, her brain too numb to tell her muscles to move. Listening to Irish through her door had been heartrending and yet she hadn’t been able to let him in. She wanted to forgive him and jump into his strong arms the moment he knocked. But that’s what had her so scared. If she overlooked that today, what would she be overlooking tomorrow?
She sniffed hard and used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. Her throat had closed up a long time ago from crying, but watching her cat continue to try and get out to be with Irish was only making it hurt worse.
“Murphy, knock it off,” she rasped. “He’s gone.”
He’s gone.
The words began to sink in, their meaning finally taking hold. Oh, God, he’s gone.
When she’d left Lou’s earlier, she’d been hurt and pissed as hell. She hadn’t wanted to see or speak to him and fully prepared herself for an Irish Hiatus until she’d worked through the feelings of betrayal and broken trust. But now, faced with the thought of never seeing him again, of never again knowing his touch or the love they’d shared—
Kat’s breath caught in her chest. Love… Was it really love or was she projecting her girlish dreams of someday finding such a thing onto the first guy who treated her well?
Murphy finally abandoned his futile attempts at escape. He rubbed against her legs before laying down by her feet, his head resting on his little paws. That’s when Kat noticed the deep blue velvet pouch with Chasing the Moon Creations written in gold script. It took her a moment to realize it was the name of the eccentric store across the alley from the tattoo shop.
She looked at her gray-striped kitten who’d become the best listener when she needed someone to talk to. “He bought me something. Lenny never gave me anything, not even when we first started dating.”
