The Aftermath (The Hurricane, #2)(7)
“Take your eyes off my wife’s arse, boyo,” I warned Tommy.
“Geez. You’re so f*cking possessive,” he answered me back. “You’re married now, Con, and I totally respect that.” Everyone stopped and stared at him, not quite believing what they were hearing. “Besides, if I was going to check out anything, it would totally be your tits. You have an absolutely banging rack, Em,” he whispered conspiratorially to my wife.
“That’s it,” I shouted and, pain forgotten, dived across the tiny sofa to smack him. Liam and Kieran intercepted, talking me down before I got anywhere near him. The gutless f*cker dived behind Em, who was laughing her arse off.
“Seriously, Tommy,” she wheezed between breaths, “do you have a death wish or something?”
“He knows how much I respect you. I don’t know why he keeps getting his knickers in a knot all the time.” Tommy whined like he had no idea what my problem was. My problem was that Em treated him like a little brother she needed to protect when she actually needed to let me teach that little f*cker a lesson. After sorting everyone out with their breakfast, she sat down in my lap when the boys finally let me up. I gave Tommy the stink eye, which he completely ignored, but any remaining rage faded away when my gorgeous wife wrapped her arms around my neck, bringing me close enough to smell the slight vanilla scent of her skin. Em loved the smell of vanilla. Candles, body wash, shampoo were always the same. For me, if sunshine had a smell, it would be vanilla.
“Em, don’t suppose you’ve been baking lately?” Liam asked hopefully, breaking the tension.
“Red tin on the countertop,” Em answered with a grin.
“Don’t eat them all, you greedy bastard,” I warned him. Danny banned me from all of Em’s cakes during training, and I knew Sunshine had baked those ready for me to eat as soon as the Temple fight was done. Liam opened the tin, and the guys dived into it like it was filled with the phone numbers of Victoria’s Secret models. Rescuing a lone chocolate chip muffin, Em fed it to me so that I didn’t need to let go of her. She smiled as our collective groans explained how f*cking delicious they were.
“Jesus, Con,” Liam piped up when the last muffin had been demolished, “you are one lucky bastard.” I smiled widely as I tucked Em into me more closely, knowing that he was right. Having her curves pressed so close was rapidly redirecting the blood flow around my body. As much as I loved the guys, the sex ban had been in place for the last four weeks, and I had a lot of time to make up for.
“So what brings you ugly lot here?” I asked.
“Fucking charming,” Kieran replied. “Anyone would think we’re not welcome.”
“Ignore him, Kieran,” Em said. “All of you are always welcome here. Now who’s for a cup of tea?” she asked, slipping off my lap. I rolled my eyes at their collective grins, knowing how much they loved Em mothering them. She moved over to the kitchenette, and I waited for the kettle to start boiling before I turned to Kieran.
“What’s going on?” I asked him quietly. I didn’t want to alert Em but something must be up for them to be coming round this early after fight night.
“Danny wants to meet you,” he explained. I figured this would be about the loss last night. It wasn’t uncommon for Danny to want a postmortem of what went down.
“Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll stop by the gym tomorrow.”
“No, Con. He wants to see you now. He sent us to come and get you.”
“Shit,” I said, because there really wasn’t anything else to say.
*
Liam dropped my sorry arse Driscoll’s Gym then took off with the guys leaving me with no backup. They knew I was about to get a bollocking for my shitty performance and were too chicken shit to stand in the line of fire. Sitting down in the crappy chair opposite Danny was like sitting in the headmaster’s office all over again. I’d been in this seat and under his spotlight many times before for drinking too much and fighting outside the ring, but it was the first time I’d sat here since I’d met Em.
“I’m sorry Danny. I don’t know what to say…” I started.
“I don’t need you to say anything, Con. I need you to listen. Last night weren’t just a feckin’ shambles, it were the first time in a long time that I thought about jacking in the boxing for good.”
I sucked in a breath. That was a serious thing to say. Danny ate, slept, and breathed boxing. I wasn’t sure he could ever walk away from it, and I wasn’t sure what I would do if he ever did.
“All because I didn’t run the fight like you told me to?” I asked, pissed that he was completely overreacting just because I’d gone off the reservation once.
“No, Con. Because if you were any other fighter, Rico Temple would have killed you last night.” It was on the tip of my tongue to argue with him, but the look on his face told me to shut the f*ck up.
“Look, I know that everything that happened with Em screwed with your head, but last night I watched fear and anger eat you alive until the only thing I could see was a beaten-up, scared-shitless kid. So you wanna tell me what the f*ck’s going on?” I hung my head in shame, knowing that he was right and ran my hands through my hair in despair.
“A few days ago Em got a letter from Frank. There was no note, just an envelope full of pictures. Turns out the sick f*ck had taking photos of her for years without her knowing.”