Fight For You Page 5

“You have just about thirty minutes to be presentable.” There was a finality in that statement that made Angela realize there was no winning this argument. Even her father knew when to back away from her mother. Angela cast one more glance at her dad. He shook his head, shrugging.

  “Sorry, love. It’ll be fine. Just go get ready.” He leaned over, kissing her cheek.

  Angela trudged up the stairs in resignation. How was she going to tell Liam?

  She grabbed her cell phone, flipping it open. How was she going to tell Liam? The number he’d called from showed as Murray’s Gym. She’d assumed he’d called from his cell phone.

  “Oh, shit.” She dialed the number. It rang for long minutes before a gruff voice answered.

  “Murray’s.”

  “Um…hello. I’m looking for Liam…”

  “This isn’t his answering service, lady.”

  “It’s…it’s sort of an emergency.”

  “He ain’t here. Try his home or cell phone or something.” The phone banged down, making her wince.

  Angela paced back and forth, finally tearing open her closet, looking for something to wear for dinner.

  “He said he’d call…he said he’d call…” She repeated it like a mantra as she pulled on a simple green dress. Her hair was disheveled, slept-in messy. The comb tangled in the knots as she dragged it through her hair, but she barely felt it. Call, Liam. Dammit…call.

  Dinner was interminable. The Preston’s were apparently oblivious as well to the fact she’d broken up with their son. She knew as soon as her mother got her alone she’d be reprimanded for being sullen during dinner, but she didn’t care. She and Adam avoided speaking, even though they were seated side by side.

  Angela had her cell phone in her lap, fidgeting, waiting for it to vibrate. When it did, she jumped, spilling water on her dress.

  “Oh!” She sprang back from the table, her phone clutched in her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  She ducked around the corner into the hall, pressing the phone to her ear.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  “Angela? I can barely hear you.”

  “I’m…something’s come up. I can’t go out with you tonight.”

  * * *

  Liam scowled at his phone. Something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure what was setting off the prickly feeling along the back of his neck. He usually wasn’t wrong about women and he could usually tell when someone wasn’t being honest. Angela was interested, more than interested. But the tension in her voice told him there was more behind her words, something she didn’t want to tell him.

  Dinner with the parents. Liam thought that part was true, but her whole manner, speech…whispered conversation…set off warning bells.

  He flipped his phone shut, stuffing it into his pocket. She’d said she’d call him later. I’ll call her first.

  Liam stalked down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, Angela on his mind. He wanted to see her…wanted her again, more than any woman he’d met. That surprised him. Not many women made a repeat showing in Liam’s life; few ever made a second appearance in his bed.

  But he wanted to spend time with her, get to know her. Try to understand where she was coming from.

  He walked for as long as he thought it would take for her to have dinner, even a long dinner with her parents. Pulling out his phone, he hit redial. The phone rang long enough that he thought it would go to voicemail, but she picked up.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Liam?” Angela’s voice was soft.

  “Angela…I want to see you…tonight. We can still go out, still have a date.”

  “It’s late…”

  “It’s not that late.”

  “I…yes.” Her voice was a combination of eagerness and reluctance.

  “There’s a little taqueria on 138th, in the Bronx. It’s near a subway stop…easy to find.”

  There was a brief hesitation. Liam’s heart skipped a beat. She’s not coming.

  “I’ll meet you there in an hour, Liam.” She still had that soft breathless quality to her voice, the sound that made Liam’s heart beat just a little faster, the way she’d sounded that morning in the shower. He could picture her face, her green eyes, her lips parted…and the rest came back in a flood of images and sensations.

  He shook his head, bringing himself back to the conversation. “Okay. It’s on 138th and Willis. I’ll wait outside.”

  The wait was interminable. Cabs flew past, none stopping. When the Lincoln Town car pulled up, he barely gave it a glance, pacing back down the sidewalk. He had the overwhelming urge for a cigarette, although he’d given them up years ago, after Frank had mocked him during a fit of coughing following a training session.

  “Liam?”

  He spun around. Angela was standing on the sidewalk, in a simple green dress that took his breath away.

  “Hey…” He watched the Lincoln glide away from the curb before turning back to Angela.

  “Hey yourself.” She walked toward him and he folded her into his arms, his lips finding hers, no hesitation from either of them. They stood on the sidewalk for a long time, until three guys came around the corner. Liam heard them before he saw them, before he opened his eyes, looking past Angela’s blonde hair.

  He pulled away from Angela, moving her behind him, instantly bristling, on guard.

  “Hey…nice chocha, dude….you wanna share?”

  Liam took a step forward, his body relaxed, weight on his back foot, arms loose, hands forming into fists. He looked the first guy in the eye. The guy was a little shorter than Liam, solid looking, but pudgy, soft in the middle maybe.

  “You really don’t want to start this, you know? Just leave us alone, we’ll all be much happier.” His voice was low, calm. He spoke without ever breaking eye contact.

  The second guy stepped up behind his friend. He was taller, leaner, a little meaner looking. His thin lips were drawn into a sneer.

  “You telling us we can’t walk down the sidewalk, cabrón?”

  “No, man. Just telling you that you really don’t want to start anything.” Liam took a step forward. Then he felt Angela’s hand on his arm.

  “Liam…”

  There was fear in her voice. He held his ground, smiling down at the shorter man, eyes flashing between the other two.

  “Yeah…not worth the effort.”

  Without turning his back, he reached for Angela, steering her toward the door of the small restaurant. The men watched him from the sidewalk as he escorted Angela inside.

  The door closed behind them and he ushered Angela toward the small dining area, away from the bar, nodding to the waitress who appeared to seat them. He spoke a few words and they were seated at a table near the back.

  Angela was watching him, apparently waiting for the waitress to finish filling their water glasses, take their drink order before speaking.

  “Liam…what was that? Why?” She waved her hand. “I’m not sure how to ask this…”

  Liam took a sip of water. “You want to know why every time we’re together there’s a fight?” He looked at her levelly.

  “Well, yes. I guess. I mean…the first time…”

  “The first time I came along at the right time.”

  Angela nodded. “Yes…but. Out here…”

  “Would you rather I just let them talk about you like that? Not do anything?”

  “Well…I don’t know what they said, really.” She made a face at him.

  “You don’t want to know.” He reached across the table, taking her hand.

  “Listen. Nothing happened. I don’t go looking for trouble, Angela, but I know how to take care of myself, and I can take care of you. Most guys will back down anyway if they think I know what I’m doing.”

  “And do you? I mean, know what you’re doing?”

  Liam smiled. “Yes.” He was tracing circles on the palm of her hand, watching her eyes grow wide, lips parted. He smiled to himself. It worked every time.

  “I
t’s part of my life, Angela.”

  “You mean training at the gym?” Her voice was softer now, the edge of fear gone.

  “Not just that. I’ve been fighting, in some form or other, most of my life.”

  “Why?” She looked across the table at him, a look of genuine interest on her face.

  Liam lost himself for a minute in those green eyes. He’d never been this comfortable with a woman; he felt himself wanting to open up to her, to tell her about himself. But his innate caution made him pull away.

  He shrugged, letting go of Angela’s hand, sitting back in his chair. The waitress appeared, leaving a beer for Liam and Angela’s soda. She took their order, Liam ordering for both of them.

  “You haven’t eaten yet? I’m sorry…I didn’t…it didn’t occur to me that you hadn’t eaten.” Angela sighed. “I’m still full from dinner though.”

  “It’s okay. I eat a lot anyway. Whatever you don’t want, I’ll eat.”

  Tipping his beer, he took a healthy swallow. Angela was still watching him, a smile curling the corners of her mouth.

  “You’re not getting off the hook that easy, Liam. You still haven’t answered my question. Why?” Her eyes were intent. Under that kind of scrutiny, from anyone else, he would have balked, bristled at the implied intrusion. But here, with Angela, if he were capable, he would have blushed.

  “There’s been a lot of…drama in my life. From back when I was a kid. It’s hard to talk about sometimes…all of the time.” He took another swallow of beer, picking at the label with his thumbnail.

  Angela reached across the table, taking his hand, not speaking, her fingers wrapped around his. He looked down at her small hand in his, trusting and sincere. And something opened up in Liam, a tiny crack appeared in the walls he’d built up over the years.

  “My mother is…was…an alcoholic. My dad left when I was just kid. For a long time, until I was eight, maybe, it was just her and me. Just the two of us. It was hard but she managed to hold it together. Then a few years later she was in a car accident, had some kind of injury that never healed right. Got addicted to pain pills for a time…maybe still is, I’m not sure. Then alcohol.” He stopped, taking a breath. Angela still held his hand.

  “She met a guy named Jim. I was, I don’t know, maybe ten or eleven. I think she met him at a bar, I’m not really sure. She never said. Anyway, he was just always there, like a one-night stand who never went home. It all seemed great. He had a job, my mom was happy, we had food. They decided to get married.”

  Liam’s voice dropped. His eyes were focused on Angela’s hand in his.

  “I thought we’d be one happy family. But the day after the wedding, he beat her up real bad. Knocked her against the wall. I tried to make him quit hitting her…”

  The waitress was at their table with their food. Liam stopped, abruptly pulling his hand away from Angela. They both sat back, Liam staring at the table, Angela looking pensive.

  They were silent until the waitress had arranged their dishes and Liam had ordered another beer.

  Liam looked at Angela with a small smile, shaking his head. “It doesn’t get any better. I don’t want to ruin your dinner with the rest of the story.”

  He picked up his fork, poking at his food. After a moment he looked up. Angela was still looking at him, a shimmer of tears in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Liam.”

  He frowned. “I’m not looking for pity here.” Even to his ears his voice sounded harsh.

  He tried again, trying to control the roiling emotions inside. “That’s not why I told you. It’s ancient history. I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

  Angela’s hand slid across the table, fingers brushing his hand. “It’s not pity, Liam. I’m sorry you had to go through whatever it was you’ve gone through. But I don’t pity you, or feel sorry for you. We don’t have to talk about it now, if you don’t want to.”

  They ate in silence for a time, Liam lost in his own thoughts. Finally he took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. Angela looked up at him.

  “I’m sorry, Angela. It’s just…no one’s ever cared to ask…or cared at all. About any of this.” He gave her a lopsided grin, spreading his hands on the table.

  “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, Angela. There’s something about you that makes me…feel things I haven’t felt…for a long time. Maybe ever. This is all new for me.”

  She returned his smile. “You’re certainly not like anyone I’ve ever met before either.”

  “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” His grin turned into his charming smile. He watched her face, waiting for the reaction. And there it was; that pretty blush that crept up her cheeks, the light in her eyes, the tilt of her head that swung that shimmering curtain of hair across her face.

  “It’s a very good thing.” Her voice was almost a whisper as she looked up at him through her lashes.

  His smile deepened. “Okay. Now your turn. Something about you…I know you live with your parents.”

  Angela nodded, toying with the food on her plate. “I live at home now…I have for the past six months or so. Before that I was at Columbia, living in my own apartment.” Her eyes grew small, creased at the corners.

  “As soon as I graduated, my mother insisted I move back home. She was probably worried that I was going to fall prey to bad influences or bad men or something. Or…I think she’s really just a control freak, wants to keep an eye on where I go, what I do. She likes to control me, my dad…anyone or anything she can.” Angela sighed.

  “Like tonight, dinner with the Prestons and Adam, even though she knows we broke up...” Angela’s eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She dropped her head, making herself busy with her food, pushing it around on her plate.

  Liam watched Angela. This was what she didn’t want to tell me earlier…I knew there was something.

  “Adam? As in the recently broken-up-with boyfriend?”

  Angela nodded, still not looking up.

  Liam’s voice rose sharply. “You had dinner with him? That’s why you wanted to break our date?”

  He sat back, tossing his fork onto the plate. It clattered against the edge, skidding onto the table. Angela jumped, her face flushing crimson.

  “Well, yes…but…” She looked up at Liam, her eyes still wide. “I didn’t have a choice.” Her voice was small, almost a whisper.

  “Did you tell your parents you had plans…that you had a date?” Liam could feel his temper rising and as much as he wanted to drop this, something wouldn’t let him. He’d trusted this girl, told her more than he’d ever told anyone. He’d broken his own code: trust no one. And she couldn’t be bothered to tell the truth.

  “I did…but…you don’t understand my mother. How she controls everything. Liam, you have to know…have to believe me, if I could, I would have never sat through that dinner.” She leaned forward, reaching for his hand. He pulled it away, grabbing his beer, taking a swallow.

  “How old are you?” He watched her blink in surprise, perversely pleased that he’d shocked her.

  “What?” She frowned at him.

  “How old are you? Over eighteen? Over twenty one? You’re an adult, right?” He could hear himself driving at Angela, heard the angry edge in his voice. Stop…stop this now. Before you drive her away. But he kept after her.

  “You’re old enough to make your own decisions, grow up a little, live your own life, right?”

  And then he saw the tears in her eyes. His heart lurched in his chest, his anger suddenly gone, as if someone had burst a balloon with a pin.

  “I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. She was watching him, her eyes wide, tears hovering at the edge but not spilling over.

  “Liam, you just don’t understand.” She shook her head before getting up abruptly.

  “I have to go to the washroom.”

  Liam wanted to bang his head on the table. Such a tough guy; such a fool.

  When Angela came back
to the table, he stood quickly, pulling her to him. She resisted, her body tense, but he persisted. Eventually she relaxed enough for him to hug her, but she did nothing more than wrap her arms around him. She didn’t return his embrace.

  “Angela…” He tipped her chin up, looking down at her. He could see the hurt in her eyes.

  “Angel, I’m so sorry…so very sorry. This…what happened tonight, it wasn’t your fault.” He kissed her forehead.

  “What did you call me?” She took a step back, frowning at him.

  “Angela…your name. Why?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I think I’ll call for a car and go home. Thank you for dinner, Liam. I’m sorry I wasn’t better company.” She was rummaging in her purse for her cell phone.

  For the first time in a long time, Liam panicked. He felt like he had when he was learning to fight, when he had lost control of the fight and his opponent had him up against the ropes. He’d lost control with Angela and now he was losing her.

  “Wait. Please…come home with me.”

  She tossed him a look, her eyes flashing. He shook his head.

  “Not for that…to talk. Please. I was out of line.”

  Angela hesitated a moment before dropping her phone back in her purse. He saw her eyes soften, the scowl leave her face.

  “Alright.” She smiled, a tentative movement at the corners of her mouth. Shyly she stepped toward him, her arms going around his waist.

  “You’re a complicated man, Liam. I’m never sure what’s going to happen next with you.”

  More than anything Liam wanted to pull her against him, but he resisted…barely. He smiled at her, kissing her quickly.

  “Let’s get a cab…”

  They were silent on the ride to his apartment, Liam’s arm around Angela. She rested her head on his shoulder, and the image of carrying her to his bed flooded through his mind.

  He let them into his apartment, tossing his keys on the kitchen table before opening the refrigerator door.

  “You want something to drink? I have some beer, I think some kind of wine…” He glanced up at Angela. She was standing on the other side of the refrigerator door, shaking her head. He tilted his head at her.