Battered Not Broken (27 page)

“What are they like?” She dared to ask just like she dared to walk a few scant feet from the edge of the pavement, where it dropped off into deep water.

“They’re the type of people who think that the world was made just for them. They’re incredibly closed-minded and they don’t like it when anyone does anything that defies how they think things should be done, whether it’s good or bad.”

She didn’t press him for details – she believed him. Why else would he have started fresh and alone in Baltimore after returning injured from war? It seemed like anyone with a decent family and no other connections would have returned home after what he’d been through.

“Hey, see those?” She pointed toward a fleet of brightly-painted, dragon-shaped paddle boats that sat bobbing in the harbor, waiting to be rented. Cartoonish and almost garish, they were a perfect excuse to change the subject.

“The dragons?”

“Yeah. My father took me out on one once when I was a kid. I’d been begging him for months to rent one. When we finally did, I was so scared I could hardly enjoy it.”

“Because you’d watched
Jaws
?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t stop thinking about how a megalodon
would be able to swallow the paddleboat whole.”

“Megalodon?”

“It’s an extinct species of giant shark. That’s what the shark in the movies was inspired by. I also wanted to be a marine biologist when I was a kid.”

“Even though you were afraid of sharks?”

She shrugged. “Yep.”

“That’s still more practical than what I wanted to be.”

“Which was?”

“A ninja.”

“A marine is a little bit like a ninja.” At least, it was more like a ninja than being a nail technician was like being a marine biologist.

“Maybe that’s it – maybe I chose the Marine Corps because it was the branch that used swords in their advertising. Like a subconscious thing.”

“What, there are no marines in your family?”

He made a sound that was halfway between a snort and a laugh. “No. Definitely not.”

They drifted away from the water and toward the clusters of buildings and businesses that surrounded the harbor. For lunch, they stopped at her favorite Inner Harbor pizza place. It wasn’t as delicious as the morning they’d spent in bed, but he’d been right about it being a good idea to go out. Not being able to be physically intimate left them with time to do more talking than touching.

It was inevitable that the conversation would turn to MMA. Still, when it did, Ally’s stomach balled up, crushing the slice of deep dish pizza she’d just eaten. “I almost forgot to tell you,” she said, her tongue dry beneath a lingering tang of tomato sauce and oregano, “Cameron wants us to go on a double date with him and his girlfriend.” It was utterly unimportant compared to the other issues remembering Friday night conjured up, but it was the first thing that came out.

“Really?” Ryan took a long drink of his water. “If you want to go, that’s fine with me.”

“I guess it would be all right.” She couldn’t have cared less about the double date. She took a drink of her water too, swallowing it along with her reluctance to broach what was really important. “It’s just that I know Cameron expects you to keep competing in his events. And I know you told him you’d fight again this coming Friday.” Here, she paused. What could she say that wouldn’t sound like nagging?

Beneath the table, she rubbed her palms on her thighs, letting the denim of her jeans absorb the moisture that had sprung up there.
Fuck
. The obscenity echoed through her mind and she pressed her lips firmly together, refusing to let it escape. It seemed to be the only word that could sum up her feelings – all-encompassing and incredibly simplistic at once.

Ryan didn’t raise his eyebrows or roll his eyes as if he was anticipating what she was about to say. Still, she was sure he knew. He sat there, one hand wrapped around his glass as he waited for her to continue. A couple beads of condensation rolled over his fingers and dripped onto the tabletop.

He might have offered her a drawer at his place, but that didn’t mean she wanted to play the role of a nagging girlfriend. The very idea made her skin crawl. You didn’t just date a guy for a week and then tell him he needed to stop doing what he loved. At the same time, she wished with all her heart he would. “I don’t know why I brought it up. I know you’re going to do what you want. I just hate the thought of you getting hurt.”

“I know you do.” He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t sound particularly emotional at all, really. He continued to sit across from her while his fingers grew damp. His gaze was trained on her, unwavering.

“I wish you wouldn’t fight this Friday.” Or any time in the near future.

“But I’m going to.”

Whatever spark of hope that had somehow existed inside her until then was stamped out by his words. She took a drink of water for something to do. It seemed colder than it had before, as if extra ice had been added to her cup.

“I can’t stop fighting, even if it would be safer for me not to. I just can’t, Ally.” He surprised her by reaching across the table and taking one of her hands. “Don’t look so sad.”

The condensation on his fingers dampened hers, too. She looked at his face and tried not to let her gaze linger on his split and swollen lips, or the reddened area beneath his nose. He didn’t seem to mind the injuries, but to her, they were a flagrant reminder of what he risked each time he stepped into the cage – everything.

Chapter 15

“I’ll be back in a minute with a few things.” Ally slipped out of the car, flashing Ryan a smile. Their Inner Harbor date had occupied them well into the afternoon, and then they’d gone back to his place for an encore round of that morning’s activities. It was dark as he sat in the idling mustang in front of her house.

She closed the passenger-side door, turning on her heel. She was going to give him something to take back to his apartment – a couple of her outfits. He could put them in whatever drawer he liked and they’d be there for her next time she woke up at his place.

The thought filled her with a faint buzz of delight.

She pulled her house keys from her handbag – neither she nor her mother ever left the doors unbolted.

Except, apparently, Maria had. Tentative alarm rose up inside Ally, inciting caution that was ready to expand into more. “Mamá?” She opened the storm door and wooden door, both unlocked, and stepped inside the house.

The happy buzz Ryan and her task had given her vanished immediately as she laid eyes on the scene in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” The screen door banged shut behind her and she left the wooden door halfway open, crossing into the kitchen instead of heading to her bedroom to raid her drawers and closet.

“You’re home.” Manny sat at the kitchen table, looking more relaxed than he had the right to be, Spanish rolling smoothly off his tongue.

“What are you doing here?” She moved forward, drawn to the scene despite the fact that in a way, she would have rather been anywhere else in the world.

Her mother sat across from Manny, frowning as she clutched a cup of tea between her hands like a lifeline.

“Why’d you let him in, mamá?”

Maria’s frown deepened, carving lines that only appeared around her mouth when she was extremely sad. Usually, they were only visible on prison visitation days.

“She let me in because I’m her son.”

“Only technically.” Ally infused her voice with as much coldness as she could muster. “Why are you showing up here all of a sudden? You know we don’t want what you do here.”

“You’d be better off with me here. Stop being so stubborn. You don’t have anything to be proud of.”

“Like you do?” Her heart had picked up pace when she’d walked through the door. It pumped hard, sending sudden rage coursing through her body, into every fiber of her being. “You might be proud of the life you’ve made for yourself with Carlos’ help, but you’re a disgrace to this family.”

“¡Cállate!” He rose from the table, his face reflecting the same irritation she felt.

When she and Manny had been younger, people had often told them they looked alike. It rankled to think that her nose was probably flaring the same way his was as she narrowed her eyes. “This is my home. It’s not yours anymore, and that was your choice. I’ll say what I want.”

“No.” He took a step toward her, gripping the back of one chair tightly. “You are my family. You will stop disrespecting me. I’m tired of your ungrateful attitude.”

“Ungrateful? You’re so twisted, Manny. The only thing I’ve been grateful about when it comes to you is the fact that you haven’t shown your face here for the past six years. Now you’ve ruined that.”

“It’s not my fault papá is locked up.”

She resisted the urge to recoil as if he’d struck her. “Are you saying it’s mine?” Her anger threatened to boil over into slightly hysterical rage.

“I’m saying you need to get over it before you regret the way you’ve been disrespecting me. Papá isn’t here. You’re lucky to have me. Who do you think took care of the stupid fuck that hurt you and sent papá to prison, huh?” His thick, dark brows – the only substantial hair on his head – plunged into an angry V.

“Not you.” The answer slipped out before she could stop it, her powers of speech partially disconnecting from her mind as her thoughts turned down a dark path she seldom let them wander anymore.

Her attacker had been hit by a car a few months after he’d hurt her. She knew because his death had perplexed her. She hadn’t been sorry for what had happened to him, but it hadn’t erased the shame and anger he’d left her with, either. That had lived on long past his death.

“¡Si! Me!” He seemed to thrive off her denial, his anger filling him until he appeared several inches taller than he really was. “I’d never killed anyone before then, but I sent that fucker straight to hell. For
you,
Ally!”

She shook her head, suddenly dizzy. “He was hit by a car. It was an accident. Nobody touched him.”

“Fuck no, I didn’t let myself touch him. If I had, he would’ve been unrecognizable by the time I’d finished. You needed to know it was him. You needed to know he’d paid for what he’d done. I ran that son of a bitch over in Carlos’ car and backed over him again when I was done.”

Manny had avenged her – had succeeded where her father had failed. The knowledge echoed through Ally’s bones, making them feel hollow. She had the fleeting thought that if they really had been, she would’ve been able to fly away. To rise above the kitchen scene that was tearing open old wounds and simply escape.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that I’ve never done anything for you again.” He squared his shoulders as he faced her, his mouth compressed into a hard line.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” She stood her ground even though a part of her wanted nothing more than to slump down into the nearest chair.

“You didn’t need to ask. I did it because you’re family. I’d do it again if anyone fucked with you. That’s just how it is.”

She wouldn’t have wanted him to avenge her. Especially not after what had happened to her father when he’d tried. “Do you really expect me to feel grateful? It doesn’t make me happy to know that you killed for me.” It made her die a little inside, actually. How was she supposed to live with the knowledge that he’d done that – that avenging her had apparently been the beginning of his twisted criminal life?

“It wasn’t about making you happy. It was about protecting you. It was about repaying that stupid fuck for disrespecting you and our entire family. And it’s done. It’s been done for years. That piece of shit is dust in the ground by now.”