Fighting for Irish (Fighting for Love, #3)

Rolling her head to stretch her neck in hopes of relieving some of her tension, Kat changed into her typical sleepwear: a wife beater tank and panties. She had a window A/C unit, but it only worked when it wanted to and Louisiana summer nights were brutal, so the less she wore, the better.

As she pushed her skirt off, she sucked in a breath at the tender points on her hips. Glancing down, she saw the four red marks on both sides where Rick’s fingers had bruised her from pressing her skin against her own hip bones. It had been a long time since she’d seen marks like those on her body, and seeing them now threatened to choke her brain with the bile of her past.

But she’d be damned if she let it. She had more important things to worry about. Like whether or not she even had a future if she couldn’t figure a way out of dealing with Sicoli’s men.

Once she finished dressing, she opened the bottom drawer of her dresser and dug out her 9-mil from under all her shirts. She almost never took it out, but Lenny had made sure years ago that she knew how to use one. At the time, she’d thought it was sweet that he wanted to make sure she was able to protect herself. It didn’t take long to realize that using it to protect or cover him had probably been closer to his intentions. A real peach, that guy.

She dropped the clip into her palm to check the bullets and then slammed it back up before double-checking the safety and tucking it under her pillow on the futon. She turned on Anchorman because it was already in the DVD player and it was a good choice for anyone who wanted to escape into the hilariously dumb. Unfortunately, even Ron Burgundy and one and a half glasses of whiskey couldn’t numb her enough to forget the last hour.

Leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, Kat rested her head in her hands. What the hell was she going to do? She’d never been the brains of this outfit. Well, neither had Lenny, but he’d always been the leader. He’d say it was time to go and she’d pack up their measly belongings and they’d head out in the Celebrity to the next town Lenny was sure would be both safe and a gold mine just waiting for them.

We got eyes on you and ears with the pigs.

The idea of Sicoli’s men watching her every move made the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She glanced at the windows looking out over Main Street. The dingy white curtains glowed with orange and red from the neon tattoo sign below her windows.

The guys who came collecting in Tennessee last time made it abundantly clear what would happen to her if they didn’t get their money. Sicoli couldn’t let debts go unanswered. It made him look lenient, weak. If the debtor couldn’t pay, he or she was eliminated. And apparently, as far as Sicoli was concerned, she owed the money just as much as Lenny.

She was as good as dead.

Kat had to try and make a run for it. Tomorrow was payday, though, and she’d need every bit of money she could get. She’d go to work like always, let them follow her home and think she was going to sleep. Then she’d pack everything she could in a backpack, wait a couple of hours, and sneak out the back. She’d have to leave the car behind and rely on public transportation or hitchhiking if necessary. Whatever it took to get as far away as possible.

She’d be on her own for the first time in her life, her ties to Lenny and her old life completely severed. Even though that had been her goal for the last month, now that it was time to follow through, she felt like throwing up, and her entire body shook with fear. Then again, that could be because she also had the added pressure of a crime boss after her now. Either way, she’d run like hell until she couldn’t run anymore.

The cell phone on top of her dresser started ringing, and her head snapped up. She’d had that phone for years, though Lenny didn’t know it. She had always left it off and kept it well hidden, but after he got arrested, she’d turned it on and left it out. Not that she ever answered it. Only one person had the number to that phone, and though it killed her to constantly avoid her sister, Vanessa would only try to involve herself, and Kat couldn’t let that happen.

She waited for the chirp that signaled a new voice mail and then punched in the code to listen.

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