Aiden pushed himself off the wall and started to stand, but he stayed crouched when Murphy’s paw sought him out yet again. As fond as he was of the kitten, he wished it were Kat doing the reaching instead. No you don’t. It’s better she hate you and move on than be with you and get hurt.
Unable to resist, he let the kitten grab onto his finger one last time. “You’re not making this very easy, little buddy,” he forced out, his voice so gravelly he didn’t even recognize it. “I wish to Christ I could be the kind of man she needs. But I’m not. I’m just a broken-down fighter who ends up hurting the people closest to me, and she deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”
He finally let go of the tiny paw and stood up. His eyes burned and started to water until he blinked hard a few times to bring the dingy stairwell back into focus. “’Bye, Murph. I’m taking off after tomorrow’s fight. Take good care of her for me.”
Frustrated meows accompanied the sounds of Murphy pawing at the door. Before he could say to hell with it and beg her to let him in, Aiden spun on his heel and jogged down the stairs. Just before he pushed through to the alley, the faint echo of a woman’s cry pierced the last remaining piece of his heart.
…
Tears streamed down Kat’s face as she continued to sit on the floor, her brain too numb to tell her muscles to move. Listening to Irish through her door had been heartrending and yet she hadn’t been able to let him in. She wanted to forgive him and jump into his strong arms the moment he knocked. But that’s what had her so scared. If she overlooked that today, what would she be overlooking tomorrow?
She sniffed hard and used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. Her throat had closed up a long time ago from crying, but watching her cat continue to try and get out to be with Irish was only making it hurt worse.
“Murphy, knock it off,” she rasped. “He’s gone.”
He’s gone.
The words began to sink in, their meaning finally taking hold. Oh, God, he’s gone.
When she’d left Lou’s earlier, she’d been hurt and pissed as hell. She hadn’t wanted to see or speak to him and fully prepared herself for an Irish Hiatus until she’d worked through the feelings of betrayal and broken trust. But now, faced with the thought of never seeing him again, of never again knowing his touch or the love they’d shared—
Kat’s breath caught in her chest. Love… Was it really love or was she projecting her girlish dreams of someday finding such a thing onto the first guy who treated her well?
Murphy finally abandoned his futile attempts at escape. He rubbed against her legs before laying down by her feet, his head resting on his little paws. That’s when Kat noticed the deep blue velvet pouch with Chasing the Moon Creations written in gold script. It took her a moment to realize it was the name of the eccentric store across the alley from the tattoo shop.
She looked at her gray-striped kitten who’d become the best listener when she needed someone to talk to. “He bought me something. Lenny never gave me anything, not even when we first started dating.”
Murphy sat up and stared at her expectantly, flipping the end of his tail. With shaking hands, she opened the pouch and withdrew a small card that read, Symbols of the Blue Topaz: loyalty, honesty, clarity of feelings, eternal romance, and love.
It couldn’t have touched her more than if it had been from Hallmark. Whatever else was in the pouch, she knew Irish hadn’t chosen it blindly. She turned the pouch in her palm and marveled at the necklace.
An antique brass chain held a matching brass crescent moon charm with a crystal bead that reminded her of a bright star. Behind that, a wire-wrapped crystal drop of blue topaz hung at the end of a few inches of chain. In fact, the chain looked to be just the right length to…
Eager to find out, Kat stood and crossed to the bathroom. After clasping the necklace and centering it on her chest, she gazed at her reflection and got choked up all over again. The moon charm lay between her collarbones and the blue topaz just above her cleavage. Which meant the chain holding the stone hid—or at the very least distracted from—the scar she hated so much.
The necklace was perfect. Irish was perfect. Perfect for her. Of course what they’d shared was love. Why wouldn’t she love him? From the moment he stepped foot in this Podunk town he’d done nothing but look after her, regardless of the original reason. When he learned a big-time mob boss had it out for her, he didn’t call it quits. He insisted on helping her and then somehow managed to do so when he very well could’ve gotten himself killed.