The Hurricane (36 page)

“Walking you down the aisle today has been one of the proudest moments of my life. You are the sun that shines in the dark and the most beautiful part of my day. You’ve become for me the daughter I never had, and it’s no secret that I wasn’t the biggest fan of you and Con gettin’ together. I’m a little protective of you.”

“A little?” Kieran scoffed. Danny stared at him for interrupting, but everyone was chuckling, knowing just how right Kieran was.

“But there was no stopping Con once he made up his mind that you were his girl, so I did what any father would do. I let you both find your own way and hoped for the best.” He paused to shift about a bit, clearly uncomfortable.

“Con, when you and Kieran first came into my gym, I knew you’d give me trouble and grief. In fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t have a single grey hair before I met you. What I didn’t realise then was that you’d both give me far more than you took. You cocky little gobshites are my kin, and I’m proud to have been there to watch you grow into the men you’ve become. Con, you’ve surprised me since meeting Em. I do believe that you will spend every day of your marriage trying to be the man she deserves, and that’s all I can ask. I mean it about the feckin’ burpees mind,” he warned, with a pointed finger.

Mary was wiping her eyes furiously, clearly touched by Danny’s speech. I was barely keeping it together, and my throat hurt from swallowing back the tears.

“Training you, and seeing the dedication and commitment you give makes me so proud, and I believe it in my heart that one day you will be world champion. You’ve given this old man hope for the future, and I wish you both love and happiness, today and forever more.”

He raised his glass of single malt in the air.

“Sláinte.”

“Sláinte!” the room called out, my husband included.

Walking over to Danny, I threw my arms around him and gave him the biggest hug. I kissed him on the cheek and wiped my eyes. I didn’t say anything, and truthfully, I didn’t think I could without sobbing like a baby. Danny knew how much I loved him, and now I knew how much he loved me. Sniffing a bit, I left him sipping his single malt with Father Pat. Although Father Pat had declined any more to drink after his fourth whiskey, claiming that he had to be sober enough to conduct midnight mass, he wasn’t gone two hours before he was back toasting and giggling with Danny like a pair of schoolboys. I had a sneaking suspicion that he had a nine am Christmas morning service, which would be interesting for the congregation.

“Come on, sunshine. Wrap your arms round me and let me show you what you’re missing,” teased Kieran, as he pulled me onto the dance floor for a slow dance.

“If that’s how you ask nice girls to dance, Kier, you need to work on your lines.”

“Baby. Con got the best girl there is.” He smiled, twirling me around.

“Ah, some day, Kieran, you’re going to make some lucky girl very happy.”

“Well, until then, I’ll keep the good lines to myself and give the bad girls a taste of what they’ll be missing.”

I rolled my eyes and secretly looked forward to the day that Kieran had what O’Connell and I had found.

“Speaking of good girls, where’s Marie? I haven’t had a chance to chat with her yet.”

“She’s over by the bar talking to Tommy,” Kieran told me without having to look. Any man, who automatically knew where a woman was in a room without looking, had it bad. I kept my thoughts to myself, deciding not to meddle too much. I had the feeling tonight wasn’t the last night that they’d be seeing each other, though.

“You should probably go and rescue her then,” I said, nodding toward Tommy.

“In a minute.” He answered. “I’m getting a dance with my best girl first.”

I looked across to see O’Connell dancing with an elegant, older lady. Her hair was pinned in a neat chignon, and her beautiful silver grey dress was understated and elegant.

“Who’s O’Connell dancing with?” I asked, curiously.

“Me Ma” he replied. “I think she loves him more than me sometimes,” he huffed indignantly, but I could tell he didn’t mean it.

“No, she doesn’t.” I smiled, and he returned my grin full force.

“He really loves you, you know?” Kieran told me seriously.

“I know, Kier. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise,” I replied, jokingly.

“No, Em,” he said seriously, “like lay down in traffic for you, forsaking all others, the only one for him for the rest of his life, kind of loves you.”

“Before O’Connell, I didn’t think it was possible for two people to love each other like that,” I admitted.

“Me, either,” he replied, and we danced in wistful silence until the song ended. As he relinquished me to O’Connell, he looked as though he’d made up his mind about something and purposefully walked off toward the bar.

“I think Kieran’s got a thing for Marie,” I told him.

“Who?”

“Marie. The girl who designed and made my wedding dress. I think he’s taking Tommy out for chatting her up as we speak.”

“Huh. That will last long enough for Kier to get her knickers off,” he scoffed.

“I’ll bet he said the same thing about you once,” I pointed out.

“Fair point, Mrs. O’Connell, and I would pay good money to see the little fucker whipped.”

“You have such a way with words,” I teased.

“Baby, I don’t believe that my way with words was why you married me. I seem to recall I had other skills with my mouth that sealed the deal.”

His cheek brushed gently against mine as he whispered softly into my ear, instantly making me damp and weak-kneed. I pressed myself closer against him as we danced; the crackle of electricity potent between us. Suddenly, I caught sight of Mac striding purposefully toward us.

“Hey, Em,” he greeted sternly as he reached us, then turned to address O’Connell.

“You’d best come outside, Con. We’ve got trouble.”

“You stay with Danny, love. We’ll be right back.”

“I’m coming with you,” I informed him determinedly. I could see his jaw ticking as he became impatient to meet the trouble head on.

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he admitted.

“And I don’t want you throwing away your whole career because some arsehole is causing trouble,” I retorted.

He grabbed his messy spikes and pulled at them absently as he mulled over what to do for the best.

“Fuck it,” he said, grabbing my hand as he hauled me protectively to his side.

“You stay behind me, and you don’t move,” he warned.

I nodded in agreement, as we went to see who could be trying to ruin our wedding day. We were halfway down the hallway, when I didn’t have to guess anymore. I knew.

“Get your filthy hands off me. Do you have any idea who my son is? He’ll break your neck if he finds out you restrained his own mother!” Sylvia screamed to anyone listening.

Tank stood at the entrance to the hallway. He never really talked much as he trained, but the boys called him Tank because, well, he was built like a tank. He stood in front of the door with his arms crossed, an immoveable obstacle between us and the doorway. For all of Tank’s size and strength, I’d never actually seen him throw a punch in anger. His intimidating presence seemed to deter conflict, and although he enjoyed training, I didn’t think he had the temperament to be a fighter.

“Oh, thank God, Con,” Sylvia cried dramatically, placing her hand over her heart as though she feared for her own safety.

“He hit me. All I wanted was to see my own son on his wedding day, and he told me to fuck off and hit me.”

Tank looked at O’Connell and raised an eyebrow in amusement. I could cheerfully see him telling Sylvia where to go, but we all knew he would never raise his hand to her. Con rolled his eyes at Sylvia’s antics and sighed wearily.

“What do you want, Ma?” he asked.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, son,” warned the guy standing next to her.

It was only then I noticed that Sylvia had company. He was a big guy, though nowhere near as big as O’Connell. His dark hair was greased back, and his too tight trousers made his beer belly hang over the top. He had probably been quite fit and good looking once, but those years had long since passed. From his tired eyes and saggy blotched skin, I would bet good money that he was an alcoholic like Sylvia.

“I’m not your son,” snarled O’Connell, looking at his mother. “Now tell me what the fuck you’re doing here, so we can go back to enjoying our wedding.”

“Baby, please. You’re my only son. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding with Emily. I didn’t realise how serious it was between you, and I just didn’t want you hurt. I’ve already missed your wedding. Haven’t I been punished enough? Please, Con, I just want to be part of your celebration with you.”

She pleaded so convincingly that it was hard not to see her as the repentant mother. But I had seen the real Sylvia behind the facade.

“What, so you thought you’d bring this fucktard to my wedding!” O’Connell shouted.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a fucktard, arsehole?” the man screamed.

“Richard, it's fine. Please let me handle this,” cautioned Sylvia, standing as a buffer between Richard and her son.

O’Connell looked murderous, but to give him credit, he was keeping his temper under control.

“Con, Richard means well, I promise. Baby boy, it’s Christmas Eve. We always spend Christmas Eve together, don’t we?” she said, holding Con’s face in her hands like he really was a little boy.

For a moment, I saw the flicker of longing that explained why he always forgave her behaviour in the past. He wasn’t just a fighter; he was also a boy craving his mother’s love. As O’Connell looked between Sylvia and Richard, the longing faded to resolve and back to anger. In the past, it was moments like this when his temper would get the best of him, and if Richard carried on baiting O’Connell, he’d be lucky to leave without repercussion. O’Connell looked back for me and when he saw me, reached out his hand and entwined my fingers with his. As always, my touch calmed him.

“Go home, Ma. Or go to a bar. Or go to Richard’s house. I really don’t care. You’ve burned your bridges with me for good this time. Continually fucking up and going back on your word is one thing. I can even forgive a lifetime of you being a shite mother. But you knowingly tried to take away the one person I love more than anything else in the world, and I’ll never forgive that. Em, Danny, Kier, and the boys are my family now, and I take care of what’s mine. Now turn around and fuck off, so that my wife and I can go back to enjoying our wedding.”

He directed this last remark at Richard, whose face was so red, I knew something was about to kick off. Sylvia was stunned that O’Connell had stood up to her, and I guessed this was the first time her little theatrics hadn’t worked. When she realised O’Connell was serious, she stared at me maliciously and it was clear that I was apparently to blame for her lot in life.

“What the fuck, Sylvia. You said this was gonna be an easy mark!” shouted Richard.

I could feel the fingers of O’Connell’s hand flexing and relaxing gently, as he prepared to fight.

“You misunderstood, Richard,” Sylvia stuttered. “I would never say anything like that.”

“Look, boyo.” An increasingly belligerent Richard was getting up in O’Connell’s face, and it was like watching a stupid monkey baiting a lion. “I’m getting inside this shithole whether I have to go through you or not. Your stupid bitch of a mother promised me free booze if I drove her here, and I expect payment.”

He shoved O’Connell hard, but my man was a six-foot-five mountain of solid muscle, who’d been training his body to fight for most of his life. Richard wouldn’t know what hit him, but I wouldn’t put it passed him to try to press charges for assault. After that, O’Connell’s career would be well and truly over.

“Don’t,” I warned him, “you’re in training”.

“Don’t worry, love,” he reassured me. “I’ve got it under control.”

“But four weeks from tomorrow I won’t need to rein it in, fucker,” snarled O’Connell menacingly.

“Surprise, surprise,” drawled Richard. “I always took you for a jumped up little pussy. You don’t have the balls to fight me. But I’ll tell you what. I’m a reasonable man. Give me two free pints of lager and a shot and I’ll leave you, and your good for nothing, dried up mother to it. Call it my wedding present.”

It happened so fast that it barely registered, but in seconds, Richard was little more than a heap on the floor in front of me. In unison, we all turned to see where the punch had come from. Tommy wore a beaming smile and shrugged his shoulders as he said, “I’m not in training.”

O’Connell and the guys all man hugged each other, then he turned to address his mum one last time.

“Go home,” he told her forcefully. “It’s over.” With that, O’Connell led me back inside without throwing a single punch, and we went back to our happy ever after.

“I THINK YOU’RE JUST SUPPOSED to carry me over the threshold,” I told O’Connell.

“As far as I’m concerned, the main door to the building is the threshold. I want to do everything right, and it starts with this.”

I sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him, and let him carry me up flight after flight of stairs until we got to the apartment. The box of wedding cards that I held onto tightly, only added to the burden. He paused to juggle between my weight and getting the keys out of his pocket, then let us in and kicked the door behind him.