All it does is bring back memories of sparring here with Liam, teaching him to box, to feint, to throw a right hook. Memories of my teenage brother looking up to me, adoring me, desperate for the affection and guidance that our father wouldn’t or couldn’t give to him. I’d come herenotto think about the things weighing on my mind. Still, the old familiarity of the place brings them back in a rush, Liam just at the forefront of my mind now instead of Saoirse.
Which changes the second the door opens, and I glance over my shoulder to see Niall walking in.
“Fuck.” I curse under my breath, and Jacob glances over to see him as well.
“Bloody hell,” he echoes, and I grit my teeth.
“Maybe he’ll have the good sense to stay the fuck away,” I mutter, circling Jacob again as we prepare to go another round, but I’m not so fortunate.
Niall comes up to the edge of the ring, watching as Jacob and I go another round and then break apart. I turn sharply to face him, irritation plain on my face.
“Something I can help you with? Or did you just come to be a pain in my arse?”
Niall shrugs, looking at me keenly. “I came to use the ring, same as always. Didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Well, we’re using it.”
“I’ll wait.”
The two of us stand there, glaring at each other until Niall finally lets out a breath.
“You’re so much like your brother,” he says quietly. “Stubborn to a fault, always so sure your path is the right one. Except you have the misfortune of adding being arrogant as hell to the mix.”
Something in me snaps at that. Seeing him standing there in front of me, cool and careless, commenting on my relationship with my brother when apparently only hours ago he had my wife in a room making the kind of sounds that up until now she’s only ever made for me, makes the dam of rage that I’ve been holding back burst open.
I hear Jacob say my name like a warning, but I’m already headed for the ropes around the ring, seeing red.
Niall jumps back, but I’m already on him. I throw my shoulder into his chest, knocking him backward as I swing, but he’s an equally experienced fighter. He dodges the blow, ducking, and comes around to swing hard and send an uppercut into my ribs.
It catches me off guard, knocking the air out of me. I stagger for a second, but rebound almost instantly, sidestepping Niall’s next blow and catching him in the side of the jaw. He grunts, stumbling, only to throw an elbow into my gut.
“Fuck you,” I snarl, landing another blow. “How fucking dare you come in here? How fucking dare you talk about my brother?”
Niall laughs, wiping blood and spit away from the corner of his mouth. “Last I checked, you didn’t own the place. And Liam ismybest friend, in case you’d forgotten. Hell, Connor, I remember a time whenwewere friends.”
“That was before—” I swing again, but he sidesteps it neatly.
“Before what? Before you had a disagreement with your father and took off? Before you left your brother with even less protection? You might have stepped in for your father with Liam, but I stepped in foryou.” Niall’s gaze darkens, and he circles me, fists up. “Don’t act like you have any right to throw stones, Connor McGregor.”
“Harsh words from a man who had his fingers in my wife this afternoon.” I snarl, striking out again, but Niall blocks it, smirking.
“I’d hoped you wouldn’t hear about that. But I suppose I pleasured her so well that she couldn’t keep quiet.”
When I lunge at him, it catches him off guard. I drive my shoulder into him, driving my fist into his gut as I take him down to the floor, aiming for his face with the next blow. The two of us tussle on the floor, Niall pinned as he tries to get out from under me and escape my fist as I drive it into his face again, this time directly into his nose.
Blood goes everywhere, spurting across his face and onto the floor, and I go to strike him again, only to feel a pair of heavy hands on my arms, dragging me back. I whirl, fist up, only to see Jacob there, holding his hands up as he backs down.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill him, man. Calm the fuck down.”
No one else could speak to me like that and get away with it, but Jacob’s voice is tempered and calm. “I don’t think he came in here to start shit, Connor. And even if he did, nothin’ is going to be solved by killing him. You made your point.”
Slowly, I turn back towards Niall, who is pushing himself off of the floor, one hand pressed to his nose. With his other hand, he strips off his t-shirt, pressing the fabric to his nose as he glares at me over it.
“You’re being a bloody fool about all of this, Connor,” Niall growls. “And I’m not afraid to tell you if no one else will, though I’d be willing to bet there are others speaking the same words in your ears if I were a gambling sort of man.” He wipes at the blood on his face, wincing. “You need to tell your wife how you actually feel about her, man.”
“I swear to fucking god, if you say one more bloody word about Saoirse—” I start towards Niall again, only stopped by Jacob’s hand on my arm. Niall just laughs bitterly, a spluttering, hoarse sound.
“You can’t even fucking admit it to yourself.” Niall shakes his head. “You’re a jealous, fucked-up mess over Saoirse. You’re driving yourself insane between that and your inability to set your pride aside and come to terms with your brother. We all fucking see it, Connor, but you’re too resentful and prideful to admit it.” He lowers his hand, the bloody t-shirt wadded in it, looking at me keenly over his bent nose. “You’re hurting your brother, Connor. You’re hurting your wife. And I know you pride yourself on having come to some fuckingarrangementwith her to make the marriage work on your terms, but you’re going to lose her to someone else, and I can see that you don’t actually want that. You just don’t know how to let a woman in—or fucking anyone, for that matter.”