“What was that?” Tate asked as they walked to the nearest cage.
“Just some chick’s number.”
Tate looked incredulous. “And you tossed it?”
Kieran shrugged, saying nothing. It didn’t really seem like a big deal, and he wasn’t sure what Tate was getting at.
“Kieran, it’s a chick. Guaranteed pussy! Why the hell would you turn that down? Especially after just being without it for a couple years.” Tate’s jaw was almost reaching his chest.
“Not interested.”
“Oh, shit!” Tate’s hand flew to his mouth, not hiding a wide grin very well. “I get it now. Damn, didn’t expect that from the Killer, but hey, whatever works for you, man.”
Kieran frowned, turning to look at Tate. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you being a fag,” Tate sneered.
Kieran’s head jolted back as if someone had just smacked him, and he stopped in his tracks. Tate had always been crude, but this was going too far.
“I’m not gay, asshole.” Clenching his fists, Kieran tried to breathe evenly. He’d spent his entire prison sentence keeping away from those types of activities and refused to be accused of it now. He had no issue with people living their lives the way they wanted, but he was as straight as they come.
“Did I hurt the queer’s feelings? Aw, I’m so sorry.” Tate laughed. “Must be so hard being around all those men in prison, so hard to decide who to let plow you in the ass first.”
In less than a second, Kieran had turned to face the bullying brute and had slammed his forearm into Tate’s throat. Pushing him backward, he pinned him against the concrete gym wall with one thick arm. Tate squirmed and pulled at Kieran’s locked arm with both of his hands, unsuccessfully.
“How I was ever friends with you is a mystery to me,” Kieran said, his eyes burning a hole through Tate.
“Fuck, let go,” Tate gasped, struggling to breathe and still clawing at Kieran’s arm.
“Don’t be such a shithead, Tate, or next time I won’t be so fucking forgiving,” Kieran said through gritted teeth less than an inch from Tate’s reddening face. “I don’t want to be the one to teach you some damn manners, but if you throw around words like that in my family’s gym again, I will.”
“Kieran!” He recognized his brother’s voice behind him. “What the hell are you doing?”
Several hands grabbed Kieran’s shoulders and pulled him back, releasing Tate from his hold. Kieran shook everyone off him. Tate choked out a few labored breaths, falling to his knees and rubbing his neck. He glared up at Kieran, unable to speak yet.
Kieran faced Kane, Rory, and several other fighters who had surrounded them, putting both hands up in assurance that he was done. He knew he’d just taken a big risk, because if Tate were to report him, what he’d just done could be considered a parole violation. His unplanned outburst could put him back in prison, but at the moment, he didn’t care.
“Walk away, Kieran,” Rory instructed.
“I’m going. This caveman just needed a little lesson in manners.” Kieran headed toward the front door, knowing his brothers would ensure the issue was dropped by Tate.
The truth was, even with the risk, he wasn’t sorry. He’d do it again.
Chapter 7
The next day Kieran found himself frowning at the children running around the courtyard at the youth center. He’d already been there a few hours, and he hadn’t seen Shea once. Fiona hadn’t walked by the construction site this morning, either. Nora didn’t even know where they were; she had simply told him Shea hadn’t come in today.
He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but he felt unsettled without her around.
“Kieran, you need to relax. You’re all tense, and several of the kids were complaining that you yelled at them during boxing practice,” Nora said as he walked into her office at the end of the day.
“Not boxing, it’s mixed martial arts.” Nora had agreed that Kieran could teach the older kids a very light, abbreviated version of MMA, that the exercise may help them release their anger and energy in a more controlled setting. The main thing he taught, long before techniques or anything physical, was responsibility and respect for an opponent. They weren’t allowed full contact, and everything was slow and practiced, no hits. The kids seemed really open to the idea, although they were eager to advance in the sport. Nora had told him if it went well, they could figure out a way to make it part of the program.
“Either way, what’s got you so upset today?” she asked.