The Hurricane (22 page)

I reached into the drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a box wrapped in brown paper and string. I placed it on the bed in front of him.

“Sorry. They were all out of ‘Good luck with your big fight’ wrapping paper at the shop.”

He didn’t say anything, which was completely out of character. There were no quips or cocky comebacks. He just stared at it. After a few minutes, he picked it up and pulled the bow on the string, then carefully opened the brown paper to reveal the jewellery box underneath. Still staring, he opened it up to find an intricately designed silver Celtic cross inside on a long silver chain.

“Do you like it?” I asked worriedly. “I had Father Patrick bless it when we went to church.”

He swallowed hard and when he looked up at me, his eyes were wet.

“You bought this for me?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Sunshine, you can’t afford this.”

“I’m getting by better with the extra money that I get from Danny, and I did a few extra shifts last month when I finished out my rota.”

He carried on just looking at it, and I started to get worried.

You don’t have to wear it or anything. I just wanted to get you something to say good luck and to let you know that I’m behind you.”

He launched himself off the bed and threw his arms around me, squeezing me hard.

“I fucking love it. Thank you, baby,” he replied.

I grinned, more than a little relieved.

“Father Patrick told me that the ring symbolises God’s eternal love and that the four parts of the cross mean different things to different people, but in your case he thinks they represent mind, body, heart, and soul. Every one of those parts needs to be ready before you fight, but God will be with you in all of them.”

“That sounds like something Father Pat would say. For me, it just reminds me of you.”

“I like that, too,” I admitted.

He stared at it some more before taking it out and handing it to me. I undid the clasp and secured it around his neck as I kissed him gently on the lips. He pulled me closer until I was straddling him then kissed me hard, touching his tongue against my own. Pulling away, he looked deep into my eyes and asked me to bear my soul.

“Will you tell me now, about your past?”

I nodded my head although my chest felt so tight it hurt to breathe. Would he see me differently after this? Would this make me unclean and repugnant to him? Unless I told him, I’d never know, but I would give a great deal right now to be without the burden of my past.

“My dad died when I was nine. He was the centre of my whole world. Then one day I went to school, and when I got home, he was gone. Another car skidded on some diesel on the motorway. The other driver lost control and smashed into Dad’s car, killing them both instantly. Less than a year later, my mum had met and married Frank,” I explained, climbing off O’Connell. I felt dirty just talking about it, and I didn’t want to pollute him by touching him as I let this poison seep out of me. Any warmth I’d felt before was gone, and I fought hard not to let my shaking become noticeable.

“The first time he hit me was for talking to a boy in my class when I took out the rubbish. Mum did absolutely nothing. I was a teenager by then, and I think he’d been beating her for a while. He was nothing like my father, so disapproving and controlling, even from the first time that I met him. After the first time he hit me, it was like he got a taste for it. He was never sorry after, either. In his sick head, he could justify every punch with a purpose, like he was doing me a favour taking over where my dad should have left off. I wanted to tell people so many times, but my mother never left the house. She was his hostage, and the reason he knew I would never open my mouth.”

The tears that I’d kept at bay for so long were running ugly down my face. I couldn’t look at O’Connell because if I saw even a fleeting expression of disgust, what was left inside that was still whole would fracture.

“I was angry that no one around me had worked out what was going on. He was very careful to keep my bruises where my clothes would hide them, but nobody questioned why I had suddenly become withdrawn and why I no longer had any friends. Everyone around us thought that Frank was our salvation. The loving family man doing his best to raise another man’s child. I guess they blamed my problems on grief or adolescence, but not one person ever asked me if I was okay.”

“What about your mum,” he croaked.

“I think something inside her died when Dad did. Frank must have given her something she needed, I guess, to marry him so quickly. She did my washing and cooked my meals, but in her head, I think she believed that I died when Dad did. When I took a beating, it gave her relief from being beaten herself. By the time I escaped, she’d become a zombie. She never looked at me or spoke to me, but she followed every order he ever gave her. Even when it was to leave me alone with him.”

I choked back a sob and without warning, he reached over and lifted me from the bed to sit in his lap. Yanking the covers, he cocooned them around us and held me so close to his chest that I could barely breathe.

“That’s enough now, baby. I shouldn’t have pushed you so far.”

“You needed to know. There’s more, but I’m afraid of how you’ll look at me when you hear everything.”

He held my face and tilted it until I looked up at him.

“What did I tell you before? Whatever happened before me changes nothing. You are and always will be the most fucking beautiful person that I’ve ever met, inside and out.”

“I’ve been scared for so long, O’Connell. With you is the safest that I’ve ever felt, but it won’t last. He’ll find me eventually, and I’m terrified that you’ll be caught in the crossfire when he does.”

O’Connell held me like he was never letting me go. Swallowing hard, it was almost like he was holding back tears of his own.

“What did I tell you I’d do if anyone tried to take you away from me?” he asked gruffly.

“Decimate them,” I whispered.

“Fucking decimate them,” he reiterated. “Let him come. It will save me the trouble of looking for him.”

I SPENT THE REST OF THE NIGHT wrapped around O’Connell. When I’d climbed back into bed after visiting the bathroom, he’d hauled me against him like he’d missed my warmth. By the time the sun rose and it was time to leave for class, I was dragging my heels.

“I don’t want to go,” I admitted.

“I don’t want to let you leave, brainiac. But I won’t let boxing fuck up what you’re doing at school. Besides, with you next to me, I feel soft and lazy and loving. I need to get my head in the game, and that isn’t a side of me that you need to see first-hand.”

“I will see you before the fight, though?”

He nodded his head and smiled.

“Kieran will pick you up at seven, all right?”

“What do I wear?” I ask nervously.

“Wear whatever you want.” He chuckled. “I’m always imagining you naked anyway.”

And there was the cocky arrogant bastard that I knew and loved. I raised my eyebrows in mock horror then blew him a kiss and grabbed my bag as I walked through the door. I’d left him my spare set of keys to lock up behind him, which was another huge step for me. O’Connell knew how much of a big deal it was though. He wouldn’t abuse the privilege.

MY DAY WENT BY MERCIFULLY quickly, and O’Connell was right to send me to school. I’d have driven him nuts at home. It took me over an hour to choose what to wear. In the end, I settled for my best pair of dark jeans, a tank top, and a pretty off-the-shoulder sweater. I didn’t know how smart I’d have to be or how warm it would be there, so I figured this would do. Kieran called for me exactly when he said he would, and my excitement at seeing O’Connell had long since faded under my worry for him.

“You okay?” Kieran asked me, as I was locking up my door.

“Uh, huh,” I mumbled, not looking him in the eyes.

“Em. What’s going on?” he questioned in a serious tone that was totally at odds with his usual jovial self.

“I’m worried about O’Connell getting hurt,” I blurted out.

Kieran grinned big. “Em, he’s got this in the bag, lovely. I don’t know what you did to him last night, but today, he’s electric.”

He winked at me knowingly, and I was outraged.

“I didn’t do anything to him,” I squeaked, and he laughed out loud.

“Whatever you say,” he said. As I put on the helmet that he’d given me and climbed on the back of his bike, I breathed a little bit easier. If Kieran was confident that everything would be fine then I would trust that he had good reason for his easy faith.

We arrived at the exhibition centre later than I thought, and I was glad that Kier had a bike because we never would have been able to park a car. The place was packed.

“Come on,” Kier encouraged, taking my helmet off me. We wove our way around the maze of cars and bypassed the queue at the main entrance to go around the back. Kieran banged on a door hard, and a few seconds later, flashed two passes at the enormous guy in a black security t-shirt, and we were in. Somehow, I thought that the only people back here would be the fighters and their coaches, but I was wrong. People filled the hallways chatting, drinking, and walking around on their mobile phones. Whatever I expected, it wasn’t this. I was lost in the sea of red doorways when Kier walked into one, dragging me with him. Shutting it behind him, I could see Danny kneeling down and wrapping O’Connell’s hands.

“Hey, sunshine.” O’Connell grinned, and his face lit up.

“Hi, O’Connell.” Tommy, Mac, and a few of the other guys all filled the room, but no one else looked as nervous as I felt. Not knowing what to do with myself, I sat down on the bench next to him. He clenched and unclenched his fists when Danny finished wrapping them. Jumping up and down like his feet were on springs, he bounced around to warm up and started shadow boxing in the corner. Danny brought out pads, and they practiced a few combinations between them. With every hit, my anxiety got worse. Pretty soon those wouldn’t be pads, but another trained fighter whose only mission was to take down and hurt the man that I cared for. I understood why Kieran thought O’Connell had this in the bag. Any sign of last night’s nerves were gone. He exuded confidence, and it convinced the guys around him that he was infallible. I couldn’t share their euphoria. O’Connell was huge, but so was the guy he was fighting. His sculpted physique was rock hard, but it was still skin and muscle, and the pain when they ripped and bruised over and over would take its toll. Every time I imagined how the fight would go, I remembered every punch, slap, and kick I’d ever taken. I imagined Frank beating me, and the snap of bones that would take months to heal. Then, I imagined O’Connell in my place, and I couldn’t take it anymore. As inconspicuously as I could, I made my way to the bathroom adjoining the changing room, knelt down over the toilet, and vomited. As soon as I could get myself together, I wiped my mouth and cleaned up as best I could. My flushed red face was a giveaway, and I was a stone’s throw away from vomiting again when there was a gentle knock at the door.

“Come in,” I croaked quietly, trying not to lose it.

“Hello, sunshine.” To my surprise, it wasn’t any of the guys, but Danny, who walked in and shut the door gently. He opened his arms for a hug, and I threw mine around him with a sob.

“I don’t think I can watch this, Danny. I can’t just sit there and watch someone hit him over and over again for twelve rounds.”

He rubbed my back like you would do to comfort a child, and when I was a little calmer, he pulled me back and held my shoulders firmly.

“Sunshine, do you trust me?” I nodded my head and sniffed in case I hadn’t seemed juvenile enough. He closed the toilet seat and sat me down on it as he crossed his arms and leant against the sink. I was about to get ‘the talk’, and our location couldn’t have been any less glamorous.

“I’ve been a boxer my entire life, and that boy of ours has something that you don’t see very often in a fighter. You get your brawlers, who will improve their technique over time, and you get the technical boxers who can rack up the points for a win, but O’Connell has something that you can only call magic. When that boy steps between those ropes, its pure joy. It’s like he sees what the other fighter is going to do before they know it themselves. He ain’t a technical fighter, he’s the wildcard. It doesn’t matter how much punishment he needs to take, he’ll take it. He reads them like a book, waits for his opening, and then that’s it. It’s over. Everything bad that’s ever happened to him, everything he can’t control, stays out of that ring because in it, he is master of his fate. For an old fecker like me, that kind of magic in a fighter is the most beautiful feckin' thing I’ve ever seen. Now, you need to stop getting yourself all worked up. I ain’t worried about that great big eejit, I’m worried about you. You need to trust that I love that boy like my own son, and if I thought he couldn’t handle it, then I wouldn’t let him in there. But if you don’t calm down and watch the fight with a clear head, then you’re going to miss the magic. You won’t be sat there for twelve rounds ‘cause this thing ain’t going to last half that. So, do you trust me to get our boy through this?”