Chapter 11 Aedan
AEDAN
My place was close enough to the docks that the sound of engines and cranes woke me. It was almost comforting.
I didn’t like being around people, ever since I’d quit fighting. It wasn’t just the scars; it was the knowledge of what I’d become. At first, I told myself I was afraid of losing my cool and getting into a fight. I was staying in self-imposed solitary to protect other people. Yeah, right.
Deep down, I knew I was ashamed.
I sat up...and groaned. I could feel that bone-deep tiredness roll over me, the sort where you want to nod off every time you close your eyes.
Not what I needed when I had to haul cargo around all day.
Sure, these days the machines did most of the heavy lifting, but there was still plenty of raw muscle needed.
Normally, I slept like a baby. Last, night, though… .
Last night I’d been kept awake by visions of a dark-haired angel. They’d alternated between stupid, romantic fantasies of her in my arms and twisted nightmares where I hadn’t been there to get her out of that bathroom at The Pit. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to save her. I needed to be with her.
And I knew I’d never see her again.
I sighed, downed some coffee, and told myself to grow the feck up.
An hour later, I was helping load a container onto a truck when my radio blared. It pissed me off a little, because you don’t want any distractions when you’ve got tons of steel hanging above your head. “What?” I snapped into my handset.
It was Aggie, the matronly redhead who worked the front gate. “One of your women,” she told me. It sounded even more disapproving in her bored, north-Jersey accent.
I ran a hand over my face. It wasn’t like I had a string of girls coming to see me at work.
Hell, I hadn’t slept with anyone in months.
But I’m not a feckin’ monk, either. There’d been a few hook-ups in Newark bars, and once or twice I’d been dropped off at work by a Sandy or a Mandy or a Cindy the next morning.
..I wasn’t even sure which had been which, now.
It had just been empty sex, though it had taken the edge off.
And Aggie had seen, and that had given me a reputation.
Well, feck her. I never claimed to be a good guy.
“Which one?” I asked tiredly.
“I’m not your secretary, Aedan,” she snapped.
I let out a long sigh and gestured for the crane to lower a little. “Aggie!”
She swore under her breath and I heard her bark out the question to whoever was waiting at the gate. “Sylvie,” she snapped.
And time seemed to stop.
The next thing I knew, Dwight was bawling down at me from the crane, “Hey! Down or up or what, ya idiot?” and Aggie was on the radio again and I realized I’d been standing there gaping for about a minute.
She looked even smaller than I remembered her. Small and slender, even with that firm ass and those cute, pert breasts. But it was more than that, something in the way she held herself. She looked fragile.
I’d taken a break to go talk to her, which meant I wouldn’t get another one until lunch. Worse was the interrogation I’d get from Aggie, later.
I walked Sylvie out to the edge of the dock, where you could look out across the water towards Manhattan. A few gulls were circling overhead. “How did you find me?” was my first question.
“I called around—people my brother knew at The Pit. Everyone’s heard of Aedan. You’re a freaking legend. One of them said they thought you worked at the docks.”
I looked around at the little slice of industrial hell where I worked.
“There are a lot of places around the docks. How’d you know it was this one?
” It came out angrier than I intended. I’d just got used to my quiet little life there.
It felt like she was bringing that whole world of blood and glory back into my life, and I didn’t want it.
Or maybe I wanted it so badly it freaked me out.
“I didn’t know.” She lifted her chin. “This is the tenth place I’ve asked at.”
Jesus. The poor girl must have been walking around Newark all morning. I had to admire her determination. “Why?”
She looked me right in the eye. “I need you to teach me how to fight.”
It was so unexpected, so utterly ridiculous, that I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t want to offend her—seeing her there, dark hair blowing in the breeze, was easily the best thing that was going to happen to me for months. But the idea of her swinging her fists….
“Don’t laugh at me,” she said, stiffening.
“I’m...I’m not,” I said, trying to control it. I shook my head. “It’s just....” I sighed and felt myself grin. The idea was cute. “Look. Go to your gym, find a trainer.” I didn’t mean it to sound patronizing, but a little of that tone crept in. “They’ll teach you how to hit a bag—”
“I don’t mean that,” she said coldly. “I mean in The Pit. I need to learn to fight like you.”
I frowned at her. “Why? Why would you even—”
She told me what had happened after I’d left. The deal she’d made with Rick. My grin vanished and I stared at her in horror. Jesus, Mary and Joseph...she was going to get killed. The idea of my dark-haired angel lying broken on that concrete floor made me want to throw up.
“Run,” I said. “Get a bag and leave town.”
“I can’t. My brother’s here and I can’t move him from the hospital. If I don’t show up, Rick’ll take it out on him.”
She was right. That cruel bastard would think nothing of sending someone to finish off the poor guy. Hell, all they’d have to do was flip a switch on a machine. And going to the police wasn’t an option—Rick had enough money and a greasy enough lawyer that he’d walk unless he was caught red-handed.
“You know him, don’t you?” she asked. “You know what Rick’s like. You were a fighter, once.”
I stared at her.
“A lot of people had stories, when I started asking around. An Irish fighter called Aedan who wiped the floor with everyone. They said you were undefeated for almost a year!”
I shook my head. “That was a long time ago. I don’t fight anymore.”
“Please,” she said, and the sound of that word on her lips made my heart melt. Oh, Jesus, I would have given her anything she wanted, right at that moment. Anything at all.
Anything but that.
“Please,” she said again. “He’s my brother. I can’t run and leave him behind. He’s the only family I’ve got. Do you know what that’s like?”
I closed my eyes and thought of my own brothers. A very different situation, but no less painful.
I rubbed my back, right between my shoulder blades. “Yeah,” I said. “I do.”
Her face filled with hope. “So you’ll help me?
” She stepped forward a little and I could smell the scent of her—honeysuckle shampoo and soap and a warm, fragrant spice that was just her.
She was gorgeous, so beautiful that it took my breath away just to look at her.
And she needed me. I could sweep in like some knight on a white feckin’ horse and rescue her.
Except I’m no hero.
I thought about going back to that world. Violence and fear. Glory and excitement. The wonderful savagery of it, the way it changed you. I thought about raising my hands to someone again, and I felt ill. I thought about raising my hands to her, even in training, and my guts twisted.
“No,” I said. And turned away.