“No wait a minute, you can’t-”
“I can and I will. I am feeling very generous here, Mr Smith. My hands are itching to wrap around your throat and apply just enough pressure to make you feel something that resembles remorse for what you put my wife through.”
“Your wife?” Rory shrugged.
“It’s a done deal; she will be my wife very soon. I want you to understand that I am with Cassidy for keeps. She and I are destined for each other.”
“Listen here, are you threatening me. I have contacts.”
Rory roared suddenly, drawing his hand across the table and scattering the five photos, pens, his laptop and photo frames onto the floor.
“You have nothing! Nothing!”
He straightened his tie. And looked at the table in disgust.
“I promised myself I would remain calm. Now look at what you made me do.”
Jonathan straightened against the back of his chair and looked suddenly terrified. Rory moved forward and leaned into Smiths chair, his hands on either side of the arm rests.
“Threats are made by people who have no real intention of carrying them out. Please believe me when I say, that if you in anyway go against my specific instructions and contact my Cass in any way, I will end you. I will cause you pain in every possible way that matters to a prick like you. We are done here. Leave now.”
“But -”
“Leave!”
While you can still walk to the door you little prick. And believe this, if you ever touch her again I will come for you. And, I will kill you, myself. Rory walked to the window and watched the people below go about their business. He sensed it when Jonathan rose to his feet, and curled his lip in disgust as he heard the door slowly and softly click shut. He waited for ten minutes, and then grabbed his workout bag and went below to the basement gym. Changing into his yoga pants and vest top, he walked barefooted and in silence to the punch bag. He roared as he struck it over and over again. Forty-five minutes later Rory was bathed in sweat and exhausted.
He would go home. He had to tell them. He had been so stupid, so cruel. He hadn’t meant to hurt Cass, but he had. He had lied to her and betrayed her. When he met Cass, it was Aoife he had thought about, only Aoife and her pain. And then he had been bewitched by Cass. Cass, with her curly hair and her childlike grin. Why had he not told her? Because you were afraid. The great millionaire magnate who raced through life deciding the fate of others. And now look at ya, smart-arse. Now look at what you have done. It broke his heart to have caused pain to one as pure and as good as Cass. She's better off without you. It repeated through his head as he walked to the edge of the pool and dived in fully clothed. He swam and swam for an hour without stopping for a rest. In the end he sat on the edge and thought about what he could do to make her forgive him. There was nothing. He had ruined his one chance he had at happiness, this one chance at being a normal human being, instead of an emotionless money-making machine. And for the first time in a long time, he had no answers.
The next evening, Rory and Darragh flew to Shannon airport. Darragh raised his eyebrows when Rory asked to be dropped at the gates of Cherry Tree farm, their family home, but didn’t comment. Maybe the walk would do him good. He could see his brother was deep in thought and knew talking to him when he was in that state was an exercise in futility.
Rory stopped at the top of the lane and looked around. As a boy he had grown up here in this small village. In every way an idyllic childhood of comfort and love. He thought of his grandfather, ‘the bossman’ O'Malley. His nickname was a standing joke, considering that his grandmother wore the trousers in the relationship. His grandfather had been a quiet man but a wise man, a good man too. They were good people, honest and humble. He was blessed to have such a large family and such a rich heritage. He thought of Cass, sibling-less and alone in the city apart from Marie and Mark. What pain it must be to have lost the other part of you, your protector. He would protect her though. He had Paul minding her in London. He knew Paul was discreet and would draw no attention to himself while keeping Cass safe. When he had found out about Smith’s abuse of Cass he had nearly lost his mind. To think of Cass alone and injured, having to rely on only Mark and Marie, made his blood boil. It had been taken care of, he had already seen to that. He had pulled a few strings with friends in the industry and Jonathan Smith’s name would be mud for a very long time. Destroying his enemy wasn’t something that lay heavy on him. He was a weasel, a prick. When he thought of Cass with a fractured jaw and the pain that went with it, it eased his soul to know that Smith would suffer in every way that mattered to a man like him.
Surveillance was the last thing that Cass would have agreed to, but he needed to know she was safe. Even if she hated him. No harm would come to her while Paul kept an eye out for danger.
Abigail would be dealt with too. He had contacted the booker at her agency and threatened to pull all accounts from them. Terrified of losing the lucrative deal for models on every O’Malley Resort brochure, they had insisted that April would be shelved from further projects. How had he ever thought that she was worth his time? He had lost his way somehow. He had fallen into a pattern of women who knew the score. Casual sex in exchange for trinkets. He shook his head. When had this, become his life? He thought of the freshness of Cass, her natural curves and her softness, the smell of apple shampoo in her hair and her unguarded laugh. He even missed Duffy, for heaven sake. Her little mewling greeting him when he woke early in the mornings and he would feed her and pet her before work. Her warm fur nestling under his chin smelling of Cass and her perfume. Damn it! He was hooked into the one woman who hated his guts. The one woman who couldn’t be bought.
(Cass)
There’s no sore arse
Like your own sore arse.
Irish proverb
Ignoring Rory proved harder than she had expected.
The constant calling and banging at her flat door and calling her mobile went on for three whole weeks. Cass let the battery on her phone die and Marie and Mark opened the gallery for her and covered her shifts. Marie came over every evening and forced her to get out of bed, making deliveries of wine and chocolate ice cream, which seemed to be the only thing Cass had any appetite for.
“I feckin’ hate him Marie,” she said for the hundredth time as she dug the spoon down into what was left of her pint of ice cream. She shovelled another spoon into her mouth and looked at Marie.
“I’m disgusting aren’t I, feckin' slob. Did you hear that Marie!”
Marie rubbed her shoulder and nodded her head. “I heard, Cass.”
“I said feckin’, feckin! What does it even mean? He has corrupted my vocabulary with his feckin,’ feckin.”
Ice cream dripped down her chin and she waited patiently as Marie wiped it off with a tissue, as though she were a little baby.
“Thanks Marie. You’re a good friend, not like that bastard. He’s a bastard isn’t he Marie, lying dirty rotten bastard.”
And then the sobs took over again and she sat and wept. Marie rubbed her back as she sat and sobbed, sick of herself and her crying, which only made her cry more.
Twenty five days. Twenty five days, six hundred hours, thirty six thousand minutes, since she had seen him. Cass slammed her phone down onto the coffee table. Why the hell was she sitting with her calculator, calculating the last time she had seen him, smelled him, felt his mouth on hers. And as every second passed without hearing from him, she felt more and more alone. He had tried everything except a carrier pigeon to try and contact her for three weeks. And now. Nothing. Cass couldn’t decide if she was relived or angry. Bullshit! Angry. She was angry, but as time went by she began to doubt the ferocity of her anger. Why did he not tell her about Aoife? Why hadn’t he approached her and told her from day one? She would have understood. Wouldn’t she? She was sick of sitting in the apartment. She had gained 20 pounds. Okay, slight exaggeration, maybe five pounds. Whatever. She had puked for a half an hour straight last night. W
ine and chocolate ice cream puke. The worst kind, sweet going in, gross coming out. She had reached the bottom and needed to claw her way up somehow. What was he doing now? He had stopped trying to contact her, she pretended she was glad that he had stopped. Who was she kidding? she was gutted. Had he given up so easily, wasn’t I worth the fight?
Damn it! She played the last voicemail from him, holding her phone to her heart as she heard the pain in his voice.
“Cass, please Cassidy. Talk to me, let me explain. I never meant to hurt you. That first day- The day we met, I was on my way to the gallery to introduce myself and to tell you about Aoife. And then Duffy ran out and-. How is Duffy? Is she okay? I never should have kept it from you. I just wanted to…Ah girl, I don’t know-” Beep.
And then another message.
“Why the hell do they let you leave a message and then cut you off halfway through for feck sake? Cass…I miss you. I miss your face. I’m going home to Ireland for Christmas. To see Aoife, to tell her what I did. I love you. Cass Evans, I love you.” Beep.
Cass sat up straight and replayed the message.
“I love you. Cass Evans, I love you.”
Marie and Mark opened the door of the apartment and found Cass curled up on the floor with a panicked Duffy trying her best to squirm her way out of the embrace. Mark lifted Cass gently off the floor and sat her on a chair at the kitchen table.
“He said he loves me Marie, did you ever hear such lies!”
“Did you speak to him?”
“No, he left a message, listen.”
Cass replayed the message for them both.
“Holy shit, Cass.”
Marie was pacing up and down the apartment.
“What are you going to do?”
Mark piped up and was quickly shushed by Marie.
“She has to go after him of course. Off to Ireland with you, Cass.”
“It’s three days before Christmas Eve, Marie. I can’t just up and - ”
“Yes you can. What the hell has happened to you Cass?”
“Ummm - what?”
“Leave it Marie.” Mark started.
“No! She needs to hear this Mark. Cass what the heck has happened to you. You sit around this apartment mopping, eating ice cream and drinking buckets of wine. And do you know what Cass, you stink. Literally you smell like you are sleeping in your clothes and you look like shit. Okay?”
Cass started wide eyed at Marie.
“Marie, why are you yelling at me? I’m the one he messed around, I’m - ”
“No.”
Marie held up her palm and put her other hand on her hip.
“No. Cass. This is not happening again. You will not fall into this depression like you did after-after Harry. I won’t allow it. This guy loves you. He wants you. Okay he lied by omission. He wanted your help and he went arseways about it. But do you hate him? Do you really? He loves you Cass. And, if you are too stubborn to see that then I don’t know, just move on. Get on with your life and work and everything else. But, and this is a big but! If you love this guy, then cut the shit. Go to Ireland and tell him. Make it work. That’s what love is. It’s cruel and confusing and shitty and beautiful all at once. Everyone feels it. You are not the only one who has struggled, who has lost things they wanted.”
“Oh right Marie, so you have lost too, tell me about it. Tell me how you lost your twin, your other half! Please tell me!”
“We lost our baby.”
Cass took a moment to register what Marie said. She looked at Mark and saw unshed tears in his eyes.
“What. When?”
“Three years ago. Four days after Harry died, our baby died too.”
Cass sat back down and looked at Marie as though she were seeing her for the first time.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me?” Marie sat down on the couch beside her and pulled her legs up.
“It was early on, we hadn’t told anyone we were pregnant yet. And then Harry died and I lost the baby four days later, at the funeral. An early miscarriage. We decide to keep it to ourselves. Things were already so hard for you and your mum and dad. We just decided not to say it. And then it got harder to talk about and years went by.”
“Oh Marie, Mark. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Cass felt her heart wrench for the sadness that her best friends had bore alone. She put her elbows on her knees and held her face between her hands trying to process the information. The weeks she had spent relying on them, crying on their shoulders and all the time they were suffering through a double loss. How blind and selfish was she not to notice?
Marie moved down the couch beside her and put her arm around Cass’ shoulder.
“Go to him Cass; tell him that you forgive him. Life is too short. We all know that. Open your heart and let him in. Let yourself be happy, Cass. It’s been too long. Harry wouldn’t want this for you. Let Rory win you back. Give him a chance.”
Cass stood and beckoned them both over to her. She hugged Marie and Mark to her chest and the three of them clung to each other. Each of them feeling their own private pain, somewhat lessened by the sharing of grief and emotion.
“I love you guys so much.”
“Cass.”
“Yeah Mark?”
“Marie was right, you do kind of stink.”
“Right, thanks for that.”
Cass drew back and felt her hair, lank and greasy on her head. Yeah, a shower was definitely in order. Marie went to make coffee and Mark sat down beside her on the couch. He raised her legs up and put them on his lap.
“Listen, Cass. I have spoken to Rory over the last few weeks. We both have. At the start we were angry, so angry and we told him never to even look at you again. But. The more we listened to him; we started to understand why he hadn’t told you about Aoife. We were livid about it all and we gave him hell, Darragh too. Rory’s a good guy Cass. And he loves you. Let him talk to you. And then decide if you want to walk away or not. We are on your side and if you decide to walk away, we will support you. We have been friends forever and our loyalty lies with you. But, I believe this has happened for a reason. Harry somehow led us all here. And you need some closure here. Don’t let it fester inside. Go and have it out with him. Look into his eyes and listen to him.” Cass hugged Mark and gulped the coffee Marie handed to her. It burned the roof of her mouth and she touched her tongue to the sensitive skin at the back of her teeth. They were right; she had to hear him out. She had to know if everything he had told her was true. Did he love her?
Cass showered and changed into a pair of leggings and leather boots, pulling a black turtleneck on and her warm black wool coat over it; she grabbed her passport and threw her keys and wallet into her bag. She had to go somewhere first. Back to Devon. She had to explain to her mother to father what had happened.
Four hours of head pounding traffic later, Cass arrived in Devon. She drove through the small towns and villages, until she turned down the familiar road that brought her home. Every part of the land brought back memories of her youth and times spent with Marie, Mark and Harry. How the hell was she going to tell her parents? No doubt they would be horrified and upset and try to stop her from going to Ireland to see Rory.
(Cass)
However long the day
The evening will always come.
Irish proverb
She pulled into her old driveway and stared into the kitchen window, she could see her mother at the sink washing up. She was obviously singing as she went; her head bobbed up and down to the beat. Cass could hear ‘The Smiths’ playing loudly from outside. She smiled to herself, some things never changed. She went to the front door and used her key to let herself in. Her mother turned and jumped in fright when she saw her.
“Good grief Cass, you scared me half to death. I wondered when you would come.” Cass looked at her in confusion. “You were expecting me?” Her mum nodded at her drying her hands on a tea-towel. “Rory came here yesterd
ay. We talked for a few hours. A very nice man and very good looking. But then, you know that already. It seems you’ve been living a very exciting life in London Cassidy.”
Cass stared at her mom who was looking at her eyebrows raised. “Rory. Rory O’Malley? He came here? What the hell-?”
Her mother held her hand up and shushed her. “It’s okay Cass. Rory told us everything. How you both met. How he kept you in the dark about his sister. And how he found you. We didn’t agree with his methods and your father was angry to say the least. But, his sister has suffered a great trauma too. That family has been through hell and whether you like it or not, we are all connected now. And he loves you, Cass but, you know that, don’t you?”
Cass sat on the edge of the counter-top and looked at her mom. “Yeah, I know.”
“And you love him too?” Cass smiled shyly. “Yes.”
“Then go to him, Cass. But first, there’s something I need to give you.” Her mum looked anxious and her hands shook ever so slightly.
Cass rubbed her mum’s arms up and down. “What is it, whatever is going on mum I can handle it.”
“Cass, I kept a secret too. I’m not proud of it, but I felt at the time I was doing it for your own good. So don’t judge Rory too harshly. We all make mistakes in the name of love and protection.”
“I understand the need to protect your own. Tell me mum, I’ll try to understand. I promise.”
“I know you will Cass. You’re a good girl. You always were, you never gave me a moment of trouble. Neither of you did.” Cass tried to keep her mind steady, did everyone keep secrets? She knew she had. Her parents would have supported her through Jonathan’s assault. They would have protected her, minded her. So why didn’t she tell them? Because you wanted to protect them. Isn’t that what we do for the ones we love? Her mum moved to the loveseat near the window and patted the seat beside her.
Juice: The O'Malleys Book 1, contemporary Adult Romance Page 15
