Ian (O'Connor Brothers #1)

by A. S. Kelly

  Without overthinking it, I grab my phone from my pocket. Three rings later, a sleepy voice answers.

  “Ian?”

  “Were you asleep?” I ask, looking at my watch.

  “No, I was watching a film on the sofa. I’m just chilling.”

  “You have to come back.”

  “What?”

  “It’s time for you to come home.”

  “What the hell…?”

  “It’s getting worse, Ryan.”

  “How much worse?” he asks in a whisper.

  “Find a flight.”

  2

  Ian

  We’re at the beginning of the second half, and we’re up by ten, which is still not enough to consider this game a victory yet. We’ve got fourty-two minutes of play left, and Connacht isn’t showing any signs of giving up; we’re first place in the league right now, which means we can’t afford to lose this one.

  “Let’s kick their arses,” our team captain, Jamie, says, slapping me on the back before taking his position.

  I take a deep breath and follow him with my eyes, ready to run down the side as soon as these two dickheads stop trying to rip my pants off, as we wait for Jamie to work some of his magic. Alongside being our captain, he’s also the smartest player I know, despite the fact that he’s not particularly big.

  As soon as I see Jamie run off with the ball, I break away from the opposition, who are breathing down my neck; but before I can receive his pass, he’s tackled by three players who bring him down hard.

  I throw myself into the scrum with the others, trying to wrangle the ball free, but the screaming from the bottom and the referee’s whistle forces us all to stop.

  The players get up, one by one, and I wait to see my captain emerge from the heap, but when the last giant is on his feet, Jamie is still laid out in the grass, with his face contracting in painful spasms, holding his right leg.

  As I get closer to him, I gesture to the bench to send someone onto the field as I try to grasp what’s happened.

  “My knee, Ian.”

  “Take it easy, the paramedics are on their way.”

  “It’s over.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic,” I say, trying to joke around. “It’s probably just bruised.”

  Jamie spreads himself out on the grass as the other team members circle around us.

  “I’m screwed.”

  “You’re crying like a little girl.”

  He covers his face with his hands while the paramedics lift him onto a stretcher and load him into the electric ambulance. I follow them, making sure Jamie gives the spectators a sign that he’s okay.

  “For the crowd, Jamie.”

  He shakes his head no.

  “Come on, mate, you know the deal. Just a little thumbs-up, okay?”

  “Fuck you and your thumbs-up.”

  I sigh and let my guard down.

  “For her. Just do it for her.”

  Jamie moves his arm away from his face, and it’s only then that I see his torment is the mirror image of my own.

  He lifts his thumb into the air and fakes a smile that is broadcast onto the big screens, sending the fans into delirium.

  I smile and accompany them to the changing room, but when they stop me from going in any further, Jamie grabs my arm. With his other hand, he takes off his captain’s badge and hands it to me.

  I squeeze it in my hand, and he lets go of it, laying back again, leaving me with an oppressive weight, too heavy for me to bear.

  Two hours after the end of the game, I’m on my motorbike, racing towards the hospital where Jamie has been taken as a precaution. No one was able to say anything specific about his condition, although it’s clear it has something to do with his knee. No one knows if it’s a tear, a pull, or something worse. They wouldn’t speculate without running some basic tests first.

  After I park the motorbike, taking off my helmet, I go inside and ask the receptionist where I can find my teammate. After a few smiles and an autograph, the woman tells me where Jamie is, so I take the lift to the third floor. I find his room and walk right in.

  “Well, have you found your balls or did you leave them on the field?” I ask, attempting to bring the drama down a few levels, but when she turns around on hearing my voice, my heart slides down my ribcage and slams onto the ground, right next to hers.

  3

  Ian

  “Right now, all I want is some morphine,” Jamie says, plunging the two of us into total embarrassment. “Anything not to be here with you,” he says without hesitation.

  If he hadn’t just broken his knee on the field, I swear, I’d break it for him now.

  “I wouldn’t want there to be too much of a crowd here,” I say, suffocating.

  She and I in the same room.

  There’s not enough air for the both of us.

  Riley gets off the bed without lifting her eyes to meet mine and explains, “I was just about to ask the doctor when they’re finally going to take him for the CAT scan.”

  She passes right by me and walks out of the room.

  “Wow, man,” Jamie says, making fun of me.

  “I see that you’re doing better,” I say, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his comment.

  “And I see that you’re the same old arsehole as always.”

  “How’s it going?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “I wanted to ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m not the one with the screwed-up knee.”

  “No, you’re screwed-up in something else, Ian.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “I’m not the one who started this thing. I just wish someone would say the word ‘over’ because I can’t stand this anymore.”

  “There’s nothing to end because we haven’t started anything, Jamie, as you well know.”

  “What I know is that you’re a fucking—”

  “Here’s my favorite patient,” a cheerful nurse says, interrupting us. “Are we ready for a little trip?”

  “With you, sweetheart, I’d go to the end of the world.”

  I shake my head in resignation as she helps him sit up straight in his wheelchair.

  “Will you keep Riley company while I’m away?”

  I look at him sideways.

  “Don’t screw anything else up before I get back,” he adds before being wheeled out.

  Well, at least he’s in a better mood.

  I pop my head out to see where Riley might be and after looking left and right, I find her at the end of the hallway. I gather up my courage and walk towards her, trying to swallow the beat of my heart pulsing in my throat and echoing all through my body.

  When I get close to her, I clear my throat to get her attention, but she doesn’t turn around. She’s standing with her arms wrapped around her waist, small, vulnerable, and defeated.

  “Everything’s going to be alright,” I tell her, trying to be kind.

  She nods.

  “Your brother never gives up.”

  “I know,” she sighs. “Thanks for coming along.”

  “Maybe I could come by later to see how…”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Jamie’s my teammate, and we don’t abandon one another.”

  She turns slowly, raising her eyes to mine, and I let myself be sucked into the emptiness I see there, and everything I’ve tried to keep together these past few months comes crashing down in an instant.

  “Riley…” I try to speak, but when her name caresses my lips, painfully and with too much intimacy, something inside me snaps.

  Her green eyes are hollow, veiled, and melancholy, her face is pale, drawn, and beaten, like she can’t find peace and hasn’t slept in days. It’s that lost look that haunts me, that makes my legs shake, so much so that I have to steady my hand on the wall to hold myself up.

  I watch her, small and defenseless. I notice her silence and feel her torment. I can see it distinctly, even if she tries to keep it hidden.

&nb
sp; It’s crushing me.

  A few minutes of that silence is enough to leave me feeling surrounded, backed up against the wall. Screwed. And those feelings force me to speak.

  “I’d just like to help you out.”

  “There’s really no need.”

  “Please, Riley. You’re exhausted, let me take care of everything.”

  “I’m perfectly fine.”

  “You don’t have to pretend with me, it’s not necessary.”

  “I’m not pretending,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest, closing me out.

  “You can let yourself to fall apart, you know. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

  “Never, Ian O’Connor. Not in front of you.”

  And her words devour my heart, down to the last bite.

  4

  Ian

  “Good thing I’ve only got one big bag, or how else would I have managed?” Ryan asks, appearing behind me as I get off my motorbike.

  “Thanks for coming to get my scrawny arse, Ian,” I mimic, making fun of him.

  Ryan throws his bag to the ground and looks at me a few seconds before extending his hand.

  “A hug would be appropriate here,” I tell him, squeezing tightly.

  “If we have to…” he says with fake distain, playing up his tough guy persona that no one, not even himself, believes.

  I give him a pat on the back and let him go.

  “So…” he says, delving his hands into the pockets of his leather coat.

  “You’re home.” I half smile.

  He sighs heavily. “I’m home.”

  “Come on, I’ll take you in to them.”

  “No,” he stops me before I can get back on the bike. “Not yet. I’m not ready.”

  “Ryan, what’s going on? Please try not to be an idiot.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Of course I can. I’m your older brother, and I’m not a dickhead like you.”

  “First of all, you’re not even—” he stops himself before going on. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I lie, locking my jaw.

  “I just need a minute, okay? This isn’t easy.”

  “I understand,” I say, before handing him a helmet. He slings his bag over his shoulder and then puts the helmet on. “I’ll take you over to mine.”

  “Thanks. Yours’d be great.”

  We both get on the bike and leave terminal car park, heading out onto Swords Road, then merging onto the M1, which brings us straight back into town. I ride in silence for about half an hour, weaving between cars. The night starts to fall, leaving us with a sense of oppression that threatens to crush us, prevents us from breathing.

  I know he’s noticed it too.

  I can only imagine how Ryan feels right now; he left when his life got completely turned upside down about two years ago. He’s kept his distance from this city, and I think he wanted to keep it that way for the rest of his life.

  He moved to England to play on the London Irish team, but I know that he really moved to get away from Nick and everything that reminded him of his life here.

  In the past two years, he’s set foot in Dublin only once, when we found out about our father; he stayed as long as he could before leaving again, with no intention of coming back.

  But now he’s here. I knew he’d come home. Ryan would never abandon his family in a situation like this; he just needed a push to make him see reason.

  I park my motorbike in front of the gate, and we both get off. Ryan takes off his helmet and looks around.

  “You still live here? With all that money they’re paying you?”

  I shrug.

  I live in an area called Docklands, south of the Grand Canal. It’s not too bad; granted, it’s not the trendiest place in Dublin and at one point, nobody really looked in this area, thanks to the never-ending construction projects and the squatters. But in recent years, it’s had a bit of a makeover, and has become a neighborhood just like any other.

  A place to live. That’s all I need.

  Ryan enters my apartment a bit confused, running his hand through his hair. Then he turns to look at me.

  “Why, Ian?”

  “Make yourself at home,” I say, ignoring the question.

  “You could have everything you want,” he continues to press me.

  “I already have everything I need,” I cut him short.

  “Really?” he asks, looking at me with an eyebrow raised. “Everything?”

  “I could choke you in your sleep, you know.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” he challenges.

  He’s still got the same arrogant look that he had as a young man although really, he’s grown up now.

  Kind of.

  “Try me.”

  He shakes his head, smiling half-heartedly.

  “Am I going to have to share a bed with you?”

  “I have a sofa.”

  “Okay, that’s fine for a few days…” He heads over to it and drops down onto it, a dead weight.

  I go to the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

  “A beer would be better,” he calls, picking up on my intention to make coffee.

  I open the fridge and take out two bottles, sitting down next to him.

  “I don’t have a lot of time. There’s somewhere I need to be, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take me.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “You sure?”

  He looks at me sideways.

  “So…we’re in the shitter.”

  “Yep.”

  “Does anyone know I’m here yet?”

  “I thought it would be a nice surprise for Mum. Let her think you just decided to drop by.”

  “You don’t feel like telling her that you forced me to come back?”

  “Did I?” I look at him quizzically.

  “I asked to be taken off the team.”

  “Jesus, Ryan!”

  “What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

  “I didn’t ask you to give up your career.”

  “What career, Ian? The only one of us who has a career is you.”

  Here we go. I knew it. He’s always ready to backhand me with his resentment.

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “That’s the way it is. I’m certainly not the champion in the family and neither is that arsehole Nick.”

  “Please don’t start with the same old drama.” I get up from the sofa and take a few steps away.

  “Have you called him?”

  “I wanted to do it together.”

  “I hope you’re kidding.”

  I turn to him. “I couldn’t be more serious.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you think that’s a good idea?”

  “I just want this family to be united.”

  “You realise that’s not going to happen, right?”

  “Yes, it will. You’re not two little fucking kids, Ryan. It’s time to act like adults and to do the right thing. Stay here, together.”

  “Easy for you,” he says standing, approaching me. “You’re not the one who had to give up everything.”

  Myself. And my life. That’s what I’ve had to give up.

  “No one forced you.”

  “Oh, really?” he says, raising his voice. “And what should I have done then? Go on, let’s hear it…”

  “You could have stayed, found a solution.”

  He bursts out laughing, bitterly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I don’t know what I’m talking about?

  I swear to God, I’ll strangle him.

  “You had a bad experience, and you reacted the best way you knew how to under the circumstances, but it’s all water under the bridge now and your family needs you.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  I sigh and pat him on the back again.

  “Alright, let’s call that arsehole.”

  “If it’s really necessary…”

 
; “It is.”

  He lifts up his hands in a sign of acceptance. I hand him the telephone while he stares at me incredulously.

  “No, no! Not a chance in hell!”

  “You’re the only one who can make him come home.”

  5

  Ian

  I slowly and quietly approach the room, and push open the door gently without knocking – I don’t know if Jamie’s asleep yet.

  The night shift nurses were very helpful, as if they had known I would be coming. I imagine Jamie has won them all over with his charm.

  I pop my head inside, and Jamie notices me right away. He gestures me to come in quietly, nodding towards the chair in the corner of the room where his sister is sleeping.

  I enter with a painful sigh, closing the door behind me.

  “Hey,” I whisper, moving towards the bed. “What’s the latest?”

  “Seems it’s just a sprain. No surgery.”

  “Oh, that’s great news.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll be back on your feet in a few weeks.”

  “Hope so.”

  I sit down next to him.

  “She ran right over. It was on the news,” he says, reading my thoughts. “She was scared.” He smiles sadly. “Same old Riley.”

  “She worries about you.”

  “I’m the one who’s worried about her.”

  I shoot her a glance full of remorse and then return my eyes to Jamie.

  “She’s alone. I wish there was something I could do, but I don’t know how to help her. She won’t let anyone get close to her; she doesn’t want me around. Seems like sometimes she doesn’t even want me in her life. She’s so stubborn…”

  “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “What’s that?”

  “This accident wasn’t an accident.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “Even I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Let’s just say the right time has come. Maybe it was fate.”