Crush(41)

I pulled into the parking lot of the boxing gym around the corner from Declan’s coffee shop, Mulligan’s Cup, and not much farther from Elle’s boutique, The House of Sterling. As I eased my Rover into a spot, I couldn’t believe how helpful Declan Mulligan had been. When we were kids he’d hung with Tommy’s crowd. He was even the driver the night Tommy attacked me. Somehow he managed to turn his life from shit to something decent, and I think helping me was his way to atone for his sins. And that was something I not only got but also respected.

He’d started seeing Peyton, Elle’s employee, and they seemed happy together. Both were artsy and seemed like a good match.

Were Elle and I good match?

For a moment, I just sat there, listening to the engine hum as I tried to pull my thoughts together. I wanted to talk to her. Tell her the news. To atone for my own sins, I guess. But I knew she wouldn’t be able to talk and calling her would only piss me off. It had been a long f*cking day, though, between the argument I had with Elle this morning, seeing my grandfather and our more than weird conversation, and then watching Elle with O’Shea. Seeing him take her hand to comfort her. That should have been me.

With a shiver, I gazed out at the brick buildings that surrounded me and took more than one calming breath. When the ill feeling passed, I rolled down the window to let the fresh air whisk away the jealousy I couldn’t shake.

I was in bad shape.

I just wanted this f*cking day to be over. Saturday. All day. Who the hell held a funeral from practically dawn to dusk? I knew I sounded like I was whining because I couldn’t be with my girl, but I couldn’t help it.

Right then I told myself to stop being a *.

Manning up, I grabbed my duffle and moved like lightning out of my vehicle and into the gym. Declan was already at it, punching the bag with a force that told me his mood wasn’t much better than mine. I stopped for a moment. Watching him in action made me grin.

Feeling like a caged tiger, I approached him. “Hey, man.”

He jerked his chin in response and threw one last punch before tossing me his gloves. He’d called me right after I left my grandfather and told me to meet him here. I didn’t have my gear, but I didn’t really need it.

Arteries pumping with adrenaline, muscles bunched, ready to punch anything that got in my way, I got to it.

I would have thought all the sex I was having would wear me out. But instead it was having the opposite effect on me. I had more energy and drive than ever. Or maybe it was pent-up frustration I was feeling. Whatever it was, I was going to take it out on the bag.

I let loose a thundering punch.

Declan whistled. “That bad of a day, huh?”

I nodded. “Did you talk to Miles?” I asked.

“Just got off the phone. He said he had just hung up with you when he got word.”

“What is it?”

“He can get you in early in the morning, but that’s all he can guarantee. Tommy might be moved by afternoon.”

I pounded into the bag. “How long will I have?”

“He said fifteen minutes at the most. Go in and tell the guy behind the desk you’re Flannigan’s new attorney. He’ll bring Tommy up and let you in.”

My teeth were grinding together, the sweat pouring down my back. I knew gaining visitation wasn’t going to be easy. Even as an attorney I hadn’t been able to arrange it myself. Luckily, it turned out Miles still had deep connections, and my little upcoming “sit-down” had been arranged courtesy of him.

“Yeah, okay. No one will block me once I pass the desk?” I asked, pulling off my gloves.

“Miles assured me that not a single sheriff in lockup is on the Flannigan family’s payroll. He also told me to tell you there’s a dark corner in the basement with no security cameras, and for the right price, Tommy could easily be dealt with down there.”

Raw punches to the bag were going to leave my knuckles bruised. “If only it were that f*cking easy,” I muttered. I wasn’t a killer, though. I may have crossed the legal line when it came to the drugs, but I wasn’t going to cross that line.

“Miles also got one of the cokeheads to talk, but he didn’t know much.”

I turned for a moment to catch my breath. “What did he say?”

“He doesn’t remember exactly where he was buying his product. Just that it was a tall skyscraper down on the waterfront.”

The bag once again became my outlet for my anger. “How the f*ck doesn’t he remember the address?”

Loosening up, Declan reached for the gloves I had tossed and put them back on. “He’d moved on. That was two dealers ago. Miles is going to walk him down there tomorrow night and get him to point the building out. He needs five hundred, though.”

I slammed the bag over and over. “Yeah, okay, I’ll drop it off when I leave here.”

Declan started punching again and we each took our pent-up frustration out on the bag.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but I was drenched in sweat before my hands began to ache and my muscles burned—this was what I needed.

Declan pointed under the bag. “Hey, man, I think that’s enough.”

I looked down and sure enough, blood was dripping on the floor. “Probably time to hit the shower.”

In the locker room, I let the water sluice down my body. I had to get my shit together. This anger, rage, frustration, or fear, whatever it was, wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t change the situation Elle and I were in, but if I kept up the way I was, I might just drive her away.