Saving a Legend(24)

“Like I said, fuck you both,” Kane repeated before turning and walking toward the center of the cage. Kieran’s eyebrows shot up when he saw the back of Kane’s shirt.

“What the hell, Kane? You stole my name?” Kieran balked.

“Uh,” Kane turned around quickly to hide the Kane “Killer” Kavanagh written on the back of his shirt. “You weren’t using it.”

“You little shit, I’ve been using ‘Killer’ since I was in middle school. People here still call me that.” Kieran shook his head, irritated as all hell, before turning to Rory. “And you just let him do that? You’re his trainer.”

“I told him you’d kick his ass for it.” Rory shrugged indifferently. “We all did. Kane’s more stubborn than Ma.”

Kane looked sheepish for all of a minute before he was over it. Kieran wasn’t, though. It was like his family had barely thought of him while he was away—out of sight, out of mind. He wasn’t mad only at them, though; he was mad at himself. He’d done this to his own life, and now he was living with the consequences. Turning on his heel, he headed toward the weights to get in some circuits.

Adjusting the lat pull-down machine to the highest weight he could do, he slid onto the bench and began his reps. It had been several days since he’d done any weights, and the burn in his back and arms felt great. He made a mental note to keep coming regularly but to find a time when his brothers wouldn’t be there.



With sweat glistening across his forehead and his biceps straining, he soon attracted the attention of a pretty brunette who’d been using the leg press a few feet away. Sauntering up to him, she leaned against the side of his machine to watch him. He glanced up at her between reps but didn’t say anything. He didn’t recognize her, but it was obvious what she was doing.

Her arms were crossed, pushing her breasts up so they were spilling over the top of her sports bra. Her hair was expertly done and hanging to the side; her makeup was fresh and heavy; and there wasn’t an ounce of sweat on her hairline or a sheen on her face. He narrowed his eyes a bit; he didn’t care for people who came to gyms primarily to be eye candy instead of to get a workout.

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” She smiled seductively, tossing her hair over one shoulder and offering him her hand as he finished a rep and stood up. “I’m Trixie.”

“Kieran,” he replied gruffly, not wanting to give her an inch. He noticed a few men looking on jealously. The attention made him wonder why he was eager to get away from her. He’d just spent two years abstinent, and it had sucked. He should be jumping on an opportunity for an easy lay, and as he looked her up and down, he could tell that everything about Trixie screamed easy.

“Good to meet you, Kieran. Hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.” She leaned in way too close, practically sandwiching her breasts against his chest as he felt her hand brush his. “Very, very soon.”

With that, she pulled away and walked off, taking care to sway her hips from side to side for his viewing pleasure. He glanced down at his hand, which unexpectedly held a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he saw Trixie’s name in pink, encircled by little hearts, plus her phone number.



His upper lip curled in disgust as he realized he hadn’t seen her write it, and that, considering her attire, there was nowhere on her body she could have hidden a pen. The slight warmth of the paper told him it had probably been tucked into her clothes, along with who knows how many copies, as if this was something she did all the time.

Yeah, definitely not the kind of girl he wanted.

Two years ago, he would’ve been fine with it. He would have used her for a night and parted ways, never to think of her again. In all likelihood, she would have done the same. Now when he looked at her over-the-top girly handwriting, all he could think of was Fiona and how he would be willing to bet she’d never do something like this. He didn’t think she worked out at all—Fiona was slim but with very little muscle mass. If she did come to a gym, he knew she’d be all business, not carrying around little bits of paper with her phone number inside her bra.

“Ready to spar?” Tate walked up to him, bringing him out of his head. He’d spent many a night back in the day getting blitzed with Tate and others, and they had managed to find their way into all sorts of trouble. Tate had even been there the night Kieran was arrested. He was a total asshole, and everyone knew it.

“Let’s do it.” Kieran nodded, feeling the overwhelming urge to hit something. Tate’s cocky face would be as good as any punching bag. Crumpling the note, he tossed it into the nearest trash can.