Page 41 of Dylan
Dylan
I needto get to the gym to hit something. Ciara didn’t have to say a word. Her body language said it all. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch if he ever tries to come around her again.
In fact, I’ve considered going to find him to end his life anyway. Ciara may be counting on me for answers, but I now have a million questions of my own. According to Felix, Ciara’s mom died a year after her dad and that was only a few months after they left.
Why didn’t she come back to Ireland? What made her marry someone else so quickly? Neither obit gave a cause of death.
Something stinks and I’m starting to think I might know where the stench is coming from. The one thing I know for sure is that I need to cover my girl.
“This car is so cool. I want one like this when I can drive,” Ciarán croons from the back seat.
“You want it? In four years, it’s yours. Or I’ll trade up to the newer model and give you that,” I say with a smile.
“Dylan, no. Please don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Ciara gasps.
“I never break a promise. The car is his.”
“This is the best birthday ever. Oh my God. I can’t wait until I’m sixteen.”
Ciara groans and shakes her head. I reach to place a hand on her thigh. She peeks over at me as I glance out the corner of my eye.
“Don’t believe me? You can start driving it to keep it safe for him.”
“Ugh, please no. It’s mine,” Ciarán whines.
Ciara bursts out laughing. I love the way it lights up her face. For the millionth time, I want to lean in and take her lips.
“Don’t worry. Once I find a job, I plan to get my own car, brat.”
“Speaking of which, why not come and work for me or my family? What are you good at other than fighting?”
She sits with a frown on her lips for a moment. I focus back on the road as a driver tries to cut me off. Manhattan traffic is ass.
I hate coming up here, especially this time of day. I wonder if I could get her and Ciarán to come live in Brooklyn with me. If not at my place, I could put them up somewhere just as nice as the place Vega has them in.
“She’s an artist. When I was little, she talked about becoming a tattoo artist until Dad talked her out of it. Fighters use theirhands to fight, not draw shit on people,” Ciarán says in a mocking voice.
“Ciarán,” Ciara says warningly.
“Sorry, that’s just how he said it. I hated when he would put down the things we wanted to do because it wasn’t in a ring,” he murmurs.
“I remember you always drawing. Your da had your drawings pinned up all over his training gym. Do you still draw?”
“Yeah, but it’s been so long since I’ve thought about becoming an ink artist. Theo made me work at the gym, training for him. I’ve been training fighters for as long as I can remember.”
“Yeah, which is why I never understood why you couldn’t train me. You would have been so much better at it than Theo and he knew it,” Ciarán mutters from his seat as he slumps down into it.
“Come to think of it …” I cut my words off and I think of what I’m about to say.
Ciarán has called this Theo guy Dad. I don’t know if Ciara has told him that’s not his father. She may not want him to know.
However, I can’t help thinking about how much he reminds me of his real father in the ring. This guy may have feared Ciarán triggering Ciara’s memories while in the ring.
Probably sensing my hesitation, Ciara changes the subject. She brings up a computer system Ciarán clearly wants. I make a note to give Felix and Wyatt a call. Felix will know all the best and newest shit to get, and Wyatt will have the connections to get all the things that haven’t hit the market yet.
“God, that took a long time. I’m starving,” Ciarán croons as I pull in front of the gym.
“Taegan has menus in the office. Why don’t you head in to find her and I’ll treat you to whatever you want,” I say as I park.
