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I’d been almost hopeful on Sunday after spending the day with Anna, that somehow I’d make things work for us. How impossible that seemed now. I’d be glad just to get her out of Dublin alive.
Five years ago I had stood up to Donovan, vowing never to fight again. It was easy to walk away—I had nothing to lose.
Now I had everything.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ANNA
Seventy-one hours until the fight.
I had a timer of fear ticking in my head. I was going to lose my mind.
I’d called Adam and texted him a few times since Sunday, but he never answered his phone or responded to my messages. I had assumed he would want some space, but I didn’t expect total radio silence.
He could have sent a one-word response, at the very least.
When we parted Sunday night, I’d had that sinking feeling that I was losing him.
“I don’t think you should go through with the fight Saturday,” I had pleaded into his voicemail last night. I have a bad feeling about it, Adam—a real bad feeling, I had texted him this morning.
And now I was two blocks away from Hannigan’s gym where Adam had been training the last few weeks. I just couldn’t give him the space he had asked for. In my heart, I didn’t believe he needed it. What he needed was someone in his corner, whether he went through with the fight or not.
I fastened the straps of my coat as a cold breeze beat against my shoulders. My teeth clicked together, but more from nerves than from the cold.
My heart tapped inside my chest like the feet of an Irish folk dancer as I neared. Through the clear glass walls of the studio, I could see him—Adam.
I remembered my first morning in Dublin when I’d encountered him standing shirtless in Les’s kitchen. I’d been mesmerized by his body. Now, seeing him face off, shirtless, against another fighter, a part of me feared the powerful ripple of his muscles.
I couldn’t believe it had all come to this. I’d left Kentucky to escape Jax and to follow my dreams, and now I was standing twenty feet away from a man who made me feel more than I could ever bottle up.
Just go in. Jesus. I wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of confronting the man who had been avoiding my messages the last few days, or afraid of seeing any more of the jerks who were affiliated with Donovan. My cold fingers trembled as I wrapped them around the metal door handle.
Adam had his guard raised.
I swallowed as I approached the ring, aware that the men were all looking my way as I passed heavy bags and workout mats.
But my eyes never left Adam.
He circled his opponent, and the movement brought me into his line of vision. His guard lowered as his brows furrowed together, his blue eyes on me. “Enough for now,” I heard him say. He ducked under the ropes and climbed down.
My eyes found the base of his throat as he closed the gap between us. I was too afraid to look him in the eyes.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was low.
I dragged my gaze up to his strong chin and finally met his cool blue eyes. They were the color of the water—like the water from the day we’d taken his bike out for a drive. God, that felt like years ago.
“We need to talk,” I whispered before tugging my lip between my teeth. “I know you said you needed space this week, but I’m freaking out.”
He swiped a gloved hand over his head and looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know.”
He reached for my elbow and angled his head toward the door. “Come on.”
“You must be Anna Drake. I’ve heard so much about you.”
The voice was deep and raspy.
