Until now.
I unleashed on the bag. The chains at the top rattled. My heart raced faster by the second. And a bottle of whiskey rested on a stool next to me. I didn’t have time for water. This wasn’t conditioning. I wasn’t fucking training for anything. I was trying to numb the pain in my chest.
I knew both Cormac and Shayna were watching me and I didn’t give a damn. I stood there in jeans, shirtless, and beat the fuck out of the heavy bag. They couldn’t understand what I felt inside. Worse yet, the second I looked into Shayna’s eyes, I knew she and Cormac had been talking.
Goddammit.
Part of me would have rather him fuck her than talking about my life.
About Carrie.
I groaned and threw another fury of punches. Shit, if this had been an opponent he would have wished for death. There were no refs in my world. Nobody checking on fighters, making sure things were regulated. You fucking fought. You fucking fought until you were told to stop. Because if you didn’t you’d get killed.
I threw another killer right and the bag swung like a massive pendulum, begging for more.
I took a break and grabbed the whiskey. I threw a good drink back and slammed it down.
“Hey, brother,” Cormac said. “Take a second and talk to me.”
I spun around. My knuckles were swollen. I had red marks between my fingers from the capillaries exploding against the thrust of my punches.
“What did you fucking tell her?” I asked.
“Nothing. I made it clear that it was your story to tell.”
I looked at Shayna. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“I don’t believe it,” I said.
“Fine then,” Cormac said. “What do you want me to say? I told her the truth about Carrie?”
“Don’t say that name,” I warned.
“Or that I fucked her?” Cormac said. He went chest to chest with me. “Huh? Is that what you want? I fucked Shayna while you were gone. Perfect tits, Finn…”
Tits.
Again with her tits.
I had felt them but never seen them.
Goddammit.
I pushed at Cormac.
“No!” Shayna yelled.
I threw a right and Cormac backed away. He guided my hand away and then slapped me in the face. I swung a left and he ducked. He nodded, smiled, the sick Irish bastard he was, always wanting to fight.
He swung a right hook and I read it from a mile away.
I blocked him. “Stop showing with your shoulders,” I said.
Cormac threw a jab. I got away just in time.
I swung two times at him and he kept his feet moving.
I watched his left shoulder drop.
I waited for it.
He started to throw a punch and I grabbed his arm. I dropped to my knee and tossed him over my shoulder. He hit the hard floor with a thud. I twisted his arm and picked up my boot.
“One step and I’d crush your nose into your brain,” I said.
“Aye. Still got it, huh?”
I backed up and offered my other hand, bringing Cormac to his feet.
“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Shayna cried out.
“Nothing,” Cormac said. “Just brothers fucking around.”
I punched Cormac’s shoulder. “Hey. Don’t talk about anything, brother. It’s my life. It’s my story.”
“I did what you asked,” Cormac said. “I kept her here. I kept her safe.”
I reached back for the bottle of whiskey and grinned. “Now we drink.”
I’d rather be fucking drunk than deal with the feelings for my dead girlfriend and the beautiful woman in my life right now.
~
One bottle wasn’t enough for me and Cormac. That wasn’t a shock, and I had a second bottle ready to go for us. I had to give Cormac credit, he could drink anyone under the table. Even me. From the day I met him, he was a wildfire with drinking. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, he made it count.
The first time I met him, he was sleeping at the bar. Next to him was a drop dead gorgeous woman. Blonde hair with a little ginger tint to it. Bright blue eyes that shined in a poorly lit bar. I watched her for an hour. Drinking beer after beer, she raised her eyebrow at any guy that dared to talk to her.
I figured she had to have been with the guy sleeping.
So I figured, fuck it, you snooze you lose.
So I went after her.
I found out the sleeping guy was her brother - Cormac. When she said his name, his head shot up. His eyes opened. He grabbed for a shot glass and threw it back.
Next thing I knew, me and Cormac were pounding shots and beers, laughing. For the rest of the night, with each drink, I ended up closer and closer to the woman at the bar.
Carrie.
Me and Cormac ended up in a fist fight though. I’m not sure why, but after we each landed a few punches, we laughed, hugged, and declared each other brothers for life.
We were young and stupid.