The Hurricane (6 page)

I expected the office to be uncomfortably chilly, but as I walked into the room, I found it was as warm as the gym.

“You’re back then, sunshine,” Danny barked. With a cigarette half burned down and hanging out of his mouth, he shuffled around pouring himself coffee.

“Did you think I’d quit?” I enquired, quietly.

“Well, I had my doubts. You’re a tough little nut, but I didn’t think you’d figured that out yet.”

I chuckled at his positive opinion of my good character and wondered how he could come to that conclusion, given how little he knew about me.

“Well, I’m back now, so before I get spooked again, how about you put me to work and get your money’s worth?”

“Well, well.” He laughed, with a throaty chuckle that gave away a lifetime addiction to tobacco.

“A couple of weeks ago you were afraid of your own shadow, and now you’re giving me cheek. Well, you’d best straighten up that backbone, missy, ‘cause the boys will be coming to see you soon to pay their dues. Petty cash box is in the top drawer. They’ll give you their names, and the amount they owe is in the green ledger. You’ll just need to enter the amount they pay. End of the night, you give me the names of those who didn’t pay, and I’ll get to work.”

“
You
hound the boys for their subs?” I asked, horrified at the thought of my tiny, frail-looking friend confronting mean-looking fighters who were trained to hurt and who looked pumped up enough to do just that. Danny cackled at the look of horror on my face.

“Sunshine, most of these boys had been men long before they walked through my door and don’t you be worrying about me. If any of ‘em are stupid enough to miss subs without talking to me ‘bout it first, then they get what’s coming to ‘em. Besides, this lot are more scared of me than I am of them.”

When I thought about it, it really wasn’t too hard to believe. He terrified me when we first met, and it wasn’t a stretch to see him mouthing off to one of his fighters. Feeling brave, I pointed to the coffee.

“May I have some, please?” I asked. Apparently, this amused Danny because he chuckled again.

“What’s so funny?” I enquired, slightly confused.

“Just getting used to good manners again, Em. Don’t worry about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen or used ‘em, that’s all.”

He poured me a large cup of coffee and motioned to a heater that hadn’t been there yesterday.

“It was feckin’ freezing in here earlier, so I got the lads to bring a heater in. You keep that going ‘til you leave.”

“Thanks, Danny,” I answered, sipping my coffee.

“No thanks needed. You get sick from sitting in a freezing office then you can’t work,” he muttered at me, cigarette still hanging precariously from his mouth.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that he was all heart, but despite all his whining to the contrary, I truly believed he was. I thought about how nights spent constantly on my feet for minimum wage had been swapped for nights spent in a warm office, with a comfy chair and a cup of good coffee, doing something that I loved. My half smile became a full-blown grin. Danny just rolled his eyes at me with an indecipherable noise. He carried his coffee and shuffled out of the office, shutting the door behind him. Shrugging off my jacket, I hung it on the back of my chair and set to work. Yesterday, the office was Danny’s. Today, I was making it mine. Pre-armed with cleaning products from home, I cleared the desk of papers then scrubbed it until it gleamed. It might have been old, but by the time I finished, the pattern of mug stains, a legacy from yesterday’s dusting, had all but gone. Only those stains literally burned into the wood remained. When the smell of lemon and beeswax finally overpowered the smell of nicotine, I got back to the real work. Booting up the PC took almost as long as cleaning the desk had, but I got there in the end. Pulling up the programme I’d set up yesterday, I reached for a stack of invoices and got to work.

Danny, I quickly learned, was used to bookkeeping the old-fashioned way. Neat cursive told the story of his business in a shelf full of green ledgers. When he had attempted to computerise his records—that was when things had gone south. What he had done was horrific, and abandonment was the only way to go. Luckily, he’d invested in a decent software package, so I had a good base to work from. Deciding to computerise everything from the beginning of the financial year, I could then keep things up-to-date whilst working through the backlog. I worked for half an hour before a hard thump on the office door startled me. If there was ever a time when an unexpected noise didn’t put my heart in my mouth, then I was anxious to get there.

“Come in,” I called though no invitation was necessary. A few more poundings like that and the door was coming through, anyway. The guy who entered was huge and just as built as O’Connell. He was sweating profusely and smelt like he’d been in the gym for days, not hours, but he grinned, completely unaffected, as he strode in.

“So, for once the rumour mill in this shit hole is true. There’s a gorgeous woman in the gym, and Danny’s locked you in here to save you from us.”

Obviously a heavyweight, he was seriously cut in a way that was hard earned, not gym gifted. His blond, buzz cut hair and chocolate eyes contrasted completely with O’Connell’s dark spikes and wolf-like gaze. He lacked O’Connell’s intensity, but the gentle eyes and dopey grin were still charming. Grabbing the comfy chair, he swung it out and sunk into it in a well-rehearsed move. I could easily imagine him spending a lot of time there, being balled out by Danny like a naughty school kid. He leaned back with his hands behind his head, then, thinking better of his manners, held out a hand for me to shake.

“Kieran Dougherty. Nice to meet you,” he introduced himself politely.

“I’m Emily,” I practically whispered.

He didn’t make my spine tingle like O’Connell, and he didn’t have that look in his eyes that made me fear him. It didn’t matter if a man was short and thin, or tall and built; some men had a stare that gave away a poison behind it. A poison that made them want to hurt and break what most men would protect and cherish. I’d had a LOT of practice looking at that stare, and all I saw in Kieran’s eyes was laughter. If I wasn’t comfortable, it was because I’d spent so long avoiding any kind of contact, especially with men.

“Well, darlin’, you’re a breath of fresh air around here. Handing over my hard earned cash isn’t so painful when you’re doing the collecting.”

He carried on smiling as he let go of my hand, having given it a solid shake. I guessed that he expected me to make some conversation.

“Um, have you boxed at Danny’s for long?” I enquired, searching for his name in the ledger.

“Sure. Since me and Con were kids. Must av’ been six years old when Dan stopped us from kicking the shite out of each other on the street and put us to work. He was mean, too, but fuck knows we needed a bit of discipline.”

“Con?” I asked, wondering who he was talking about.

“Cormac O’Connell,” he replied, knowingly. “He’s the big ugly fecker with the tattoos you see me sparring with. Course… that pretty much describes all of ‘em. Con’s like my brother, I guess, though I’ll deny it if you say anything to the shithead.”

I was a little overwhelmed by the cursing and the way Kieran spoke about O’Connell, despite his telling me that they were best friends. I guessed that working here would be an education in roughneck camaraderie. He pulled out a few notes from the pocket of his shorts and chucked them down on the table as the door flew open and banged against the wall.

“Sorry,” a gruff voice called out, as the body belonging to it muscled through the door.

“Ever heard of knocking, arsehole? Didn’t your ma ever teach you any feckin’ manners?” Kieran barked with a scowl.

“Chill out, Kier, I just forgot it wasn’t Danny, that’s all.”

Desperate to diffuse any hostility, I interjected. “It’s fine, no harm done. Do you have your subs?”

“Well, hellooooo beautiful. If I knew Danny was hiding something so fine, I’d have hauled arse with my subs an hour ago. But now I’m here, you gonna make my day and let me leave with your number?”

Kieran jerked his thumb toward him. “This tool is Tommy Rierdan. I wouldn’t worry about recognising him by his face. When Con hears he’s been hitting on you, he’s gonna get it rearranged. That’s if me or Danny don’t do it first.”

Tommy, like most of the other boys, was cut like an underwear model. Of course, his eight pack abs were about the only part of his body not covered in ink. Both of his arms had sleeved tattoos that spanned down to words that I couldn’t decipher across the back of his hands. He was much shorter and leaner than the other guys, and unlike their neat marine-like buzz cuts, his shaggy brown hair was just shy of falling into his eyes. What he lacked in size, he certainly made up for in confidence, though.

“Fuck off, Keir. You’re just pissed ‘cause you know she’s feelin’ it.”

He was so ridiculously cocky; it was hard not to laugh. I honestly wasn’t sure whether he was acting this way to make me smile and break the ice or whether he really was this confident. Regardless, I could see Kieran losing his temper.

“Ten,” I blurted out.

“Huh?” they both grunted at the same time.

“It’s my number.”

“Come again?” Tommy said, but a slow smile spread across Kieran’s face. I tapped the book in front of me.

“The ledger says you owe ten pounds this week. It’s lovely to meet you, Tommy, but I’m afraid that the only numbers I’m giving out this week are the ones in the ledger.” I spoke quietly and didn’t want to sound like a bitch, but I was knocking potential advances on the head, even if he wasn't serious.

“D’you hear that, Kier? I get a new set of numbers next week. Five quid says I’m getting her phone number.”

I sighed softly to myself. There really was no stopping this boy.

“Okay, fuckwad, you’ve got a deal. A fiver says Em’s too smart to let you anywhere near her. Either way, you’re out of luck next Friday. You’ll either be five quid short or your face will be so badly fucked up, she’ll have to find your lips before she can kiss them.”

“Whatever. She’s totally worth it.”

It was very flattering, but more overwhelming than lunch, and I was still only two names down in the ledger. Tommy pulled out a ten-pound note and set it down on the desk.

“Same time next week then, sweetheart?” He grinned, with a wink, and was out the door with Kieran following close behind.

“See you later, Em, and if any of those fuckers give you shit, you come and see me.”

He shut the door behind him, and I took a deep breath to regain my equilibrium. I needn’t have bothered. Not five minutes later, a light knock at the door preceded its opening, and in walked Cormac O’Connell.

HE WALKED INTO THE ROOM holding a large drinks bottle, and closed the door gently behind him. Without saying a word, he grabbed Jimmy’s chair and sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“So then, sunshine, why’d you run out on me the other day?”

He’d covered himself with a t-shirt, which was ridiculous. Considering that it was so soaked with sweat, the t-shirt moulded to his abdomen like a second skin. I watched the flex and movement of his biceps as he leaned forward. His broad shoulders tapered to lean hips, but every inch between was pure solid muscle. With a body trained to punish and endure, from his deltoids to his abdominals, he looked sculpted by hard work and pain. It wasn’t surprising. He was completely relentless, even sparring. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse or mercy in any punch he threw, and inside those ropes, he looked ready to kill. When he wasn’t fighting, he was primed and tense with anticipation. It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine that the fuse between his fist and his temper was a short one. His lazy grin, suggesting to the world that he didn’t give a shit, was all a front. Only an idiot would turn his back on this man in a fight. Every fibre of my being should have been screaming at me that being inside four enclosed walls with him was a bad idea, but as soon as he closed that door, I could practically feel the static electricity buzz between us. I feared his attention yet craved it at the same time. I wanted to know that I made him feel as needy and alive as he made me, and yet it scared me because he wouldn’t lack the courage to do anything about it. When I finally looked up, I saw his piercing grey blue eyes assessing me. He didn’t frown or scowl but gazed at me in curious amusement, like I was a puzzle that he was trying to figure out. His real smile was slow and rusty as though it hadn’t been used in a while, but unlike his usual sexy smirk, it was genuine, and in spite of myself, I relaxed a little in his company.

“I wasn’t running away. Not really. I’m just anti-social by nature. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

His smile became a full-blown grin, making my heart sink. Logically I knew that falling for this guy would break every rule that had ever kept me safe, but where O’Connell was concerned, I felt as though I was stood at the top of a precipice, powerless to stop myself falling into the oblivion.

“Well, you say what you think, sunshine, I’ll give you that. But for future reference, friends don’t run out on each other.”