Page 68 of Fighting for Irish
Kat gripped the cage and stood on her toes to get as close to him as possible. “Irish!” As Xander rubbed the bag of ice on the backs of his shoulders, Irish turned his head just enough to make eye contact with her. Sweat covered his body and dripped from his hair, but he hadn’t suffered any serious injuries from what she could see. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you creaming this guy?”
A cynical smile twisted his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. He’s the better man this time.”
She jerked back. He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d hauled off and slapped her.
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve seen you spar harder with Xander than what you’re doing now.” Something she couldn’t pinpoint flashed in his eyes before he looked away. She squeezed the fence links in frustration until her fingers went numb. His second chance for a career in the UFC was on the line and if he didn’t shape up, it would be gone before—
Oh, shit. Isthat what he’s doing? “Hey,” she yelled. “You better not be throwing this fight to sabotage your future from some bonehead fear you’ve concocted in that thick skull of yours, O’Brien, or so help me God—”
“He has to throw the fight to pay off Sicoli and the dogs working for him.”
Xander’s words could have been Greek for all the sense they made. If Irish had told him about the situation with Sicoli, then surely he would have mentioned the part about Sicoli being Lenny’s problem now, not hers. Not any longer. Irish said he’d made sure of it.
“What the fuck, Xan?” Irish bit out.
“She needs to know for her own good. Ignorance isn’t bliss, Aid, it’s dangerous.”
“In another five minutes it’ll all be over.”
“Maybe,” Xander said, putting everything back in the bucket. “And maybe not. You have no idea.”
Kat’s heart beat in her throat as her eyes darted between the scowling men, and she prayed fervently that what she thought they were saying wasn’t actually what they were saying. “What the hell are you guys talking about?”
The bell rang again, signaling the end of the break and the beginning of the final round. Irish and Xan stood and exchanged meaningful looks as though sharing a telepathic conversation. Irish nodded. Xander clapped him on the shoulder. By the time Xan reached her on the outside of the cage and the third round began, Kat was a bundle of nerves ready to explode. She grabbed at the front of Xander’s shirt. “What’s he doing, Xander? I need to know.”
He cut a pointed glance off to the side. “See those two guys over there with the cheap suits?”
“You mean the guys who work for Victor McManus? They came to talk to Irish last night at work.”
“They don’t work for Victor. They work for Sicoli.” Concern etched his face and his large hands settled on her shoulders. “Irish entered the tourney for the prize money. He promised those assholes double what they needed to bring back to their boss so they’d leave you alone. Only then they got greedy and told him he needed to fall in the third round tonight. Or else.”
Kat reeled. The world fell out of focus briefly…and then everything became crystal clear. So this was what it felt like to fall down the rabbit hole. The safe world she thought she’d been living in for the past couple of weeks was replaced by one where nothing was as it seemed. One where the man she loved was risking his safety and his career for her.
Oh, no. Just like Nessie tried to do. No, no, no.She couldn’t let him destroy his future to save hers. It wasn’t worth it.
Releasing Xander, Kat turned back to the fight. The crowd seemed to have gotten louder, but maybe that was because now she needed to get Irish’s attention. She screamed his name as the men shoved off from each other and squared up in the center again.
“Don’t you dare lose this fight, do you hear me?” He did because his gaze flicked to her before returning to the brute across from him. “This was never your problem! I’ll leave town, and they’ll follow me!”
In a lightning-quick move that proved he hadn’t been fighting near his full potential, Irish threw a left-right combo that ended with his fist in his opponent’s groin. The audience empathized with a collective groan as the guy covered his balls and doubled over. The ref called a timeout, but Irish was already stalking in her direction.
He pulled out his mouth guard with one hand and used the other to point at her through one of the holes in the cage. “Don’t even fucking think about it. You leave town, and you’re as good as dead.”
“I dodged them once; I can do it again.”
“They have a tracker on you, Kat,” he yelled. “That’s what that thing is in your forearm.”
Chills tripped down her spine as she rubbed her thumb over the small bump. That they’d known her every step for weeks made her want to throw up. Instead she lifted her chin and tried projecting a determination she didn’t yet feel. “I’ll get it out.”
“Goddammit, listen to me.” Lowering to his haunches, Irish got as close to her as the cage allowed. “They know about your sister. They threatened to bring her in to Sicoli if you ran.”
All the blood drained from her head. If it wasn’t for Xander steadying her she would have collapsed where she stood. “Kat!” Irish hit the cage with an open palm, snapping her to attention. “Just stay with Xan and let me handle this, okay?”
She nodded despite the terror snaking its way up her spine. Satisfied with her agreement, Irish unfolded to his full height. Standing there in his shorts and fingerless gloves, fists and jaw clenched, he looked every bit the warrior she knew him to be. As scared as she was, she trusted him with her life—literally.
The ref called for the fighters. She watched him turn and walk to the center of the cage, every step taking him closer to the moment that would put an end to her trouble…and an end to his second chance.
Kat clasped her hands together and pressed them to her mouth. With Vanessa’s life on the line, she couldn’t afford to think of the down sides for her or Irish. Surely this underground tournament wasn’t the only way for him to regain his place in the world of MMA. Once all this was over, she’d do whatever it took to get him another shot. Then she’d only owe him a couple dozen more huge favors to make them even.
