Fighting Fate: Book 2 of the Warrior Chronicles (15 page)

Reed cocked her head at Taryn quizzically as Taryn moved to block their way to the only exit. Shay had his right arm around Reed’s shoulders, sporting a grin that should grace the dictionary definition of ‘shit-eating’.

Until Taryn hit him, bare-knuckled in the center of his Jason-Statham-handsome face. Shay’s nose broke with a resounding
crack.
Blood sprayed the front of his sweat drenched t-shirt, Reed’s
Triumph
shirt, Taryn’s gi and the dojo floor.
The man sure could bleed
.

Satisfaction, primal and pounding thudded through Taryn. She suddenly understood the word ‘bloodlust’, her mind bypassing the ramifications as righteousness flooded her system.

She’d learned quite a lot in the last five minutes. She learned she had no problem attacking given the right provocation. She learned hitting flesh bare-handed hurt the hitter as well as the recipient. She learned sometimes shedding blood was worth the pain. The deeper lessons she kept to herself, locked away in a spot she hoped would never see the light of day.

Taryn didn’t smile as Shay staggered back and howled in pain. She followed him, her voice deadly calm and apart from the tumult rolling inside her. “Don’t ever hit my mother in front of me again. If you do, I’ll find a way to really hurt you, and I won’t be using my fist.”

Taryn held her head high as she left the dojo floor without acknowledging any of its occupants further. Her mood was too precarious to stay. If anyone tried to stop her or teach her another ‘lesson’, there would be more bloodshed. That moment, Taryn didn’t care how much of her own she would have to part with to make it happen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“You didn’t even try to block.” Reed admonished Shay.

Jesse grabbed a towel from the bathroom, two bags of petite peas from the freezer he kept for just this sort of thing, and headed back to where his mother was fussing over her best friend. Jesse handed the damp towel and a bag of peas to Shay. He held the other bag to his mother’s jaw, grabbing her hand, making her hold it there. Reed was notorious for letting her own injuries go unattended and Jesse had enough on his plate without dealing with Jordon’s ire when he saw the swelling on his wife’s jaw.

“I guess all that gushing over each other after nearly killing one another was too much for Taryn.” Jesse’s sardonic tone wasn’t lost on Reed or on Shay. They each flushed, perhaps seeing how this must have looked to Taryn. “Still, did you have to let her break your nose? You know how much that’s going to hurt on the plane tomorrow?”

“Don’t remind me.” Shay groaned. He tilted his head back and reset the cartilage himself, the resounding
crunch
combined with Shay’s painfully whispered
fuck me
had Jesse cringing in empathy.

“Why did you let Taryn hit you?” Reed asked, wiping rapidly drying blood from Shay’s face. When he didn’t answer quickly enough Reed poked him in the ribs. Jesse ducked his head, hiding his smile.

“Ouch. Give me a break, Red. You didn’t break my floating ribs, but you sure as hell bruised a few.”

Reed looked more satisfied than sorry. “Don’t whine, Irishman. It’s unbecoming. Just answer the bloody question.” Jesse rolled his eyes at his mother’s terrible imitation of Shay’s Irish lilt.

“I should have just ducked behind you, but it wasn’t worth the effort to stoop that low.” Shay’s voice sounded strained. His blood-clotted nasal passages weren’t letting air through, and Jesse knew he was pain.

Used to Reed and Shay trading insults like twelve-year-olds, Jesse gave them a moment to get it out of their adrenaline-ridden systems. He filled a glass of water from the kitchen, set it on the counter and opened the first-aid kit. He pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, cotton balls, gauze, rubbing alcohol, butterfly bandages, a surgical scissors and most importantly a roll of duct tape, throwing it all in a hammock he’d made of his shirt. Grabbing the glass of water in his free hand Jesse went back to where Shay was seated.

He handed Shay three ibuprofen and the glass of water. Shay popped the pills, swallowing them with obvious difficulty. Shay eyed Jesse’s small pile of medical supplies wearily as Jesse emptied the contents of his shirt onto the towel. Jesse waited for Shay’s nod before he cut three lengths of duct tape, opened one of the butterfly bandages, a package of tubular condensed cotton and started his down and dirty version of triage. The scent of rubbing alcohol permeated the dojo, mixing with the scent of perspiration and the coppery essence of blood. Not unusual, but never a pleasant mix.

Jesse worked quickly and efficiently. When he was done, Shay had cotton tubing in each nostril, three narrow bands of duct tape and a butterfly bandage holding his battered cartilage in place, a pile of bloody cotton balls littered the floor. The whole procedure took only a few minutes.

“That ought to keep you beautiful until the doc can fix you up right.”

“Women love a bruised and battered man. It gives them something to ooh and ahh over.” Shay wasn’t sound convinced.

“Shut up and tell me why you let my daughter pop you when you don’t let anyone near your perfect face, or I’ll give you more than messed up cartilage to worry about.” Judging by Reed’s tone, she wasn’t kidding.

Sensei, who’d been silently observing spoke before Shay could, surprising Jesse. He’d almost forgotten Sensei was still there. “Shay let himself get hit because he feels guilty every time he hurts you and today he hurt you. Laid it on a bit thick too, if you ask me, but he did that for Taryn’s benefit, and for yours.”

Sensei took a step forward and looked at Reed, half loving father, half exasperated teacher instructing a dim-witted student. “Shay knows the danger Taryn is in and he loves you enough to want to ensure she comes home to you safely. We each tried to push her into taking care of herself. Stupid all the way around. At least O’Shay’s nose is no longer a virgin to the pugilistic arts.” Sensei smiled and then laughed at his joke, before he continued. “Shay’s predictable and transparent.”

“Thank you, Sensei.”

Sensei ignored Shay as he would a pesky fly. “The better question is why your daughter felt compelled to hit him. She’s smart enough to know Shay could take her apart in less than a second if he wanted to. Still she hit him. Head on. No pretense. And, she waited for him to retaliate.”

Judging by her expression, Reed didn’t get it, neither did Shay, but Jesse suddenly did. The truth hit him with a sudden burst of clarity and he knew he had to find Taryn. He needed to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright. He needed to tell her that she already owned a piece of his heart.

“Taryn drew blood because Shay made her confront the fact that she cares about Reed more than she can consciously admit. Shay made Taryn come face to face with the fact that Reed is her mother and she can’t stomach the thought of Reed being hurt. That thought made her heart bleed. Blood for blood.” Jesse shrugged. “Simple really. Makes sense to me.”

Shay said, “Or, she just doesn’t like me.”

Jesse laughed. “That’s not an ‘
or
’ brother, that’s an ‘
and
’.”

Reed looked as if her whole world had just opened and given her something even more wonderful than she’d ever thought possible. “If that’s true, I’ll take it. Not a bad result for a morning in the ring.”

Shay tried to laugh, but the effort cost him and he wound up coughing instead. “Glad my face could be of service, my lady.”

Jesse didn’t wait for Reed’s inevitable reply. He had a doctor to call and a wife to find.

…

Taryn left Jesse’s house and just started walking, without direction or thought beyond getting gone. The morning was still young, mist was rolling off the pond and with every step the day was getting brighter. She spotted a pier over the pond and she headed toward it.

Looking down into the still water where water bugs hugged the surface, dimpling but not breaking the surface, as they made their way across, Taryn contemplated the hash her life had become. If only she could move through life as gently, never breaking through the surface, never having to deal with the murky and uncertain depths below.

Looking down was a mistake. It brought her face to face with the blood splatter on Jesse’s gi. The gi he’d shared with her. She knew it held special meaning for him and she’d ruined it. She took the top off, folded it and set it gently on the bank of the pond. There was splatter on the pants as well, but she ignored it. She’d launder both pieces as soon as she could stomach human company again.

Taryn picked a handful of small stones from the bank and set them on the pier edge. She rolled up her pants, sat next to the stones and dangled her feet in the water. She was so engrossed in self-pity: pity for her calloused feet, her bloodied borrowed gi, her state of aloneness, her new-found inner gangster that she didn’t hear her father-in-law approach until he plopped down beside her. It irked her that he did so far more elegantly than she had. She silently added uncoordinated to her self-pity litany.

“I know that look.” Jordon Bennett said, amiably, as he picked up a stone from her pile and effortless skipped it five times. No mean feat with such a small stone. But then, Taryn thought, most things probably came pretty easily to a man of Jordon’s economic ease, especially one who looked like him. His dark hair was salted with silver at the temples, overly long to be considered conservative or fashionable, but so thick and shiny there was little doubt women of every age would love to run their fingers through it.

Taryn chanced a quick look at Jordon trying to read his mood. He looked at her and grinned as if reading her thoughts. When she felt her face scalding, his warm brown eyes twinkled at her, embarrassing her further. She’d had her fill of over-confident handsome men who seemed to charge the air around them with tangible sex appeal. She scowled, turned away from him and tossed the whole pile of stones into the water.

“You enjoy using your looks to throw people off, don’t you?” She asked, sounding as surly as she felt.

“Yes. Most of the time I enjoy it very much.”

She knew he was smiling, she could feel it, but she didn’t want to look at him again. He didn’t seem to be offended by her and he didn’t seem to want to fight with her either. Taryn’s shoulders sagged. She was suddenly bone tired.

“You, however, were off as you put it, before I got here. Usually only my son or that damned Irishman have this effect on women. Sometimes I have that effect too, but usually only with Reed.” He laughed so warmly, Taryn had to take his measure. The laugh turned to a grin and Taryn caught a glimpse of the lady-killer he must have been before his marriage to Reed. “Most other women find me charming.”

Taryn made a very unladylike snort, and instantly felt her mood lighten. There was nothing unapproachable about Jordon and she got the feeling that no matter how hard she tried she wasn’t going to alienate him.

“I don’t.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Reed doesn’t either. Must be something in your blood.” Jordon scratched his chin. “Yep, that’s gotta be it. Your Aunt Finn doesn’t much care for my charm either. In fact, she hated me for quite a while. Bennett charm must not work on Mohr women.”

“Is that your not so subtle way of reminding me that I’m biologically related to your wife and so far I’ve been a shit about it?”

“Tossing that pile of stones was certainly juvenile.”

Taryn gave a surprised laugh that caught in her throat. “If you think that was juvenile, you should have seen me about twenty minutes ago. I behaved like a second grade bully on the playground.”

Jordon put an arm around her shoulders and she was feeling badly enough about her behavior not to shuck it off. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“No, it was worse.” Taryn sighed heavily and turned slightly so she could look at him while she attempted to muddle through what just happened, hoping he didn’t decide to kick her out before breakfast. So far he was proving pretty accepting, but that could change with her next revelation.

“I hit someone when they weren’t expecting it. I meant to do damage…and I did.” Her eyes began to tear with warm saline, surprising her more than Jordon. His jaw tightened at her words, but his eyes remained warm.

“Who, exactly was this unsuspecting person who is now, er, damaged?”

Taryn closed her eyes.

“What happened, Taryn? Just say it, sweetheart, before it eats you up anymore.” Jordon’s voice was soft, welcoming even, but Taryn sensed urgency in it that hadn’t been there before.

Taryn opened her eyes, squared her shoulders and pretended to be brave. “I hauled off and punched Shay in his perfect face. I broke his nose. He didn’t see it coming. I didn’t warn him. I went right up to him and cold-cocked him. Hard. His face isn’t so perfect anymore and it’s my fault.” Tears slid from the corners of her eyes and she sniffed loudly. “And I got blood all over Jesse’s gi. That was the first present he ever got, Sensei told me. Reed gave it to him…and…and I
ruined
it.”

Jordon was silent. An incredulous stillness filled the morning air. Taryn wiped her tears away roughly with the back of her hands almost as embarrassed by them as she was by her half-hiccupped confession. Then the pier started to shake. Softly at first, then gaining momentum as the sound of Jordon’s uncontrollable laughter made its way into her emotion fogged brain.

She pushed away from him just enough to see his face. Her eyes confirmed what her ears heard. Jordon was laughing, loud enough now to wake the fish. The man could barely contain himself.
Madmen, one and all.

“Shay…Shay.” He had to start again he was laughing so hard. “Shay let you smash his face?” Jordon slapped the pier repeatedly, his laughter getting louder.

Taryn narrowed her eyes as she studied him. He kept slapping and laughing. The man was going to pull something if he kept this up. She was coming to the conclusion that her mother’s husband wasn’t too bright.

“I don’t think you’re getting the picture here, Jordon. I hauled off and hit the poor man before he knew what was happening. He’s bloody. Did you miss that part?”