by Kerry Kaya
“Who is he?” As Kieran bellowed in her face a second time, his breath was hot on her face. She could smell the faint scent of alcohol and peppermint, and guessed correctly that he had been out for the evening before being summoned home.
Once again, Katie shook her head. Her cheeks were already wet, the tears she silently wept were stinging her eyes. Out of her vision, she could hear her Auntie Cathy trying to calm the situation down, and she loved the woman even more for it. Her own mother, on the other hand, had said nothing. It was as though she was happy to stand by and let the men of the family scream and shout at her.
“I’m not saying anything.” With a defiance in her eyes, she choked out the words and looked to Jayden, silently beseeching him to help her out, and noting that he couldn’t meet her gaze, her heart broke all over again. Why was he saying nothing? He loved her, didn’t he? He’d told her so enough times. With a sudden clarity, and much to her horror, she realised that her mother had been right all along. He’d only loved getting her into bed. He’d only wanted her, because she was by rights untouchable, that she had been the ultimate forbidden fruit. It was a sobering thought.
* * *
For well over an hour, Katie had kept her mouth firmly closed, despite her cousins’ best efforts to try and make her spill the beans. As her father and uncle entered the kitchen, she turned her head toward them, her eyes wide with fear. She could see the worry etched across her dad’s face and guessed correctly that her mother’s phone call had put the fear of Christ into him.
“What’s happened?” He pulled her tentatively toward him, then held her at arm’s length, and studying her face, his voice was full of concern. “Are you hurt?”
“What’s happened?” Stella screeched out the words. “This one,” she spat, her face twisted with contempt, “she’s only gone and got herself fucking pregnant.”
“Do what?” Jason’s face paled at the words.
A new wave of tears washed over Katie. Her daddy looked terrible, as if her revelation had somehow broken him. His skin was ashen and his eyes were both wide and disbelieving.
“Pregnant? What are you talking about?” His eyes searched hers, begging her to tell him that Stella was wrong, that she’d made a terrible mistake.
“Exactly what I said,” Stella spat. “She’s pregnant, you know, got a bun in the oven, as in she’s in the fucking club.”
“I know what pregnant means,” Jason snapped at his wife. Then looking to his daughter he narrowed his eyes. “Is this true, Katie?”
“Dad.” Katie reached out to touch his arm. In the past, he had only ever been kind to her, had only ever been her rock. Whereas her mother, on the other hand, had always been demanding. She’d had plans for her daughter, high plans, and was hell-bent on her becoming someone she wasn’t. If she had had her way, she would have ended up becoming a doctor or a barrister. It was laughable really. She was of the same blood as the rest of the family and there was more chance of the pope having a wank than her going to medical school.
“Answer the question. Is this true?” Snatching his arm away, Jason’s expression was thunderous.
Nodding her head, Katie’s voice croaked as she spoke, “I’m sorry, Dad … ”
Her father shook his head and it took all of her strength to not run from the room. The disappointment spread across his face was enough to break her heart in two. She would never have willingly hurt him, never.
“Tell me who he is, Katie. Tell me who the dirty bastard is.” It was said in such a calm manner that his words frightened her, much more than her cousins’ shouting and screaming had ever done. At this very moment in time, her daddy, her lovely kind-hearted father, looked positively capable of murder.
It was then that she ran from the room, and as the hot salty tears blinded her vision, she vowed there and then that for as long as she still lived and breathed, she would never reveal who the father of her unborn child was. Not one single word would she ever mutter. It was her baby and her business, and hers alone.
* * *
That evening, when the house was once again empty, Paul watched as his Cathy tidied the kitchen and he had to keep the smile from his face, a smile he would never have believed he even had inside of him. It had been a day, all right, what with Lucas and then little Katie dropping her bombshell.
“Come on out with it.” He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “Who’s the fucking culprit? And I know that you know who he is. It’s written all over your face.”
Cathy didn’t answer him. She knew exactly just how much trouble the revelation was about to bring, and thinking of her niece, she wanted to spare her the upset. She had seen little Katie’s face, seen how heartbroken she had looked when Jaden hadn’t declared the child as his. The boy had disappointed her. She had always been fond of her sons’ friend, but this she wasn’t so sure she would ever forgive. The boy had literally left the poor girl out to dry, left her to face the consequences alone.
“Come on, babe,” Paul opened out his arms, “since when did we have secrets between us, eh?”
Thinking deeply, Cathy poured herself a fresh glass of wine. He was right, of course he was. They had no secrets between them, at least none that involved family anyway. She swallowed down a large mouthful of wine before answering. “The boys,” she closed her eyes momentarily, “the boys are going to go mental.”
Paul raised his eyebrows. “Why the fuck would the boys go ape-shit?” He took a step backward, his handsome face now hard. “Unless of course they know the bloke responsible? Come on out with it, who is he, sweetheart?”
“It’s Jaden.” She was out of her seat and clutching at his forearms, forcing him to look at her. “Please, my darling, don’t say anything, don’t tell the boys, not yet anyway. Let the dust settle first and once everything has calmed down … ” Her voice trailed off.
“Jaden?” There was incredulity in Paul’s voice, and stepping out of Cathy’s embrace, he leaned his weight on the back of the dining chair for support. The muscles across his broad shoulders and forearms were rigid. “Jaden? You mean that kid who just stood in my kitchen and said nothing, said fuck all?” There was more than a hint of anger in his voice. It was an anger mixed with disbelief. “That same kid who spent every waking second he could in my,” he stabbed his thumb into his chest, as though the boy had personally affronted him, “my fucking home?”
Cathy nodded her head. “The one and same,” she answered dryly.
“The fucking bastard, I’ll kill him for this.”
“Oh, no you will not.” There was a strength to Cathy’s voice that shocked both her and Paul, and as she wagged her finger toward him, two pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “You will say nothing. It’s Katie’s choice and she will decide if and when she wants to reveal who the father is, not you.”
“That fucking kid, I always knew he was a wrongun, didn’t I always say that?” He walked across the kitchen, threw open the patio doors, and gulped down lungsful of air, as if doing so would erase the anger that spread throughout his body. “And to think he has sat at my table. I’ve fed the fucker.” He turned his head, his voice taking on an incredulous tone. “We even took the bastard away on holiday with us when the boys were younger.”
Cathy laughed. It came out as a sarcastic cackle, and after shaking her head at him, she quickly downed her wine in two large gulps. “You thought he was a wrongun.” It was more of a statement than a question. “Well, he wasn’t a wrongun when you saw fit to put him on your payroll, was he?”
Paul averted his eyes. He hated to admit, but his Cathy had him there. He’d been more than happy to employ the boy to do his dirty work.
“Or how about when you sent him trawling halfway across the country doing business for you? A wrongun,” she exclaimed, stabbing a stiff finger toward him, “don’t make me fucking laugh. Oh, I know everything. I know all of your dirty little secrets. It’s me you are talking to, remember? So don’t give me all of that old bollocks about wrongun. He
’s only a wrongun when it suits you.”
Paul sighed. “I have to give him a dig, you know that, don’t you, babe?”
Cathy tilted her head to one side. “A dig for what? For doing something your own sons do on a nightly occurrence?”
Paul screwed up his face. “That’s different and you know it is.”
“Is it?” Cathy laughed lightly. “The only difference is that Katie was caught out and thank the heavens,” she looked up at the ceiling, “the boys haven’t been yet.” She paused. “Well, at least that we know of anyway.”
Paul continued to scowl. “Nah, my boys have got more fucking sense than that,” he spat out.
“Do they?” Cathy tilted her head to one side. Deep down, she hoped he was right, not that she would tell him that, of course. “Had the talk with them then, did you?”
“What talk?” He narrowed his eyes.
“The talk. I take it you sat them down and had the talk with them? You know, the father and son talk? The one about them using protection? The one about them not getting some poor innocent girl in the club?”
“Leave it out, Cath.” He looked away and Cathy could see the faint blush to his cheeks. It took all of her strength to not laugh in his face. He’d always been the same, had her Paul. He may have been a hard man out on the street, but the moment sex was mentioned, he suddenly became shy. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so comical.
“I’ll take that as a no then.” She topped up her wine glass and took a long sip, all the while, basking in his discomfort. “Oh well, here’s hoping for the best then. We are still a bit too young to become grandparents, though, so let’s just hope and pray the boys, as you said, have got more sense and are being careful.”
His face screwed up even tighter at her words. “Enough now, Cath, you’ve made your point, darling.”
Setting her glass down, Cathy went to him, and curling her fingers around his forearm, she looked up into his face. He was still a handsome man and he’d aged well over the years, just like a fine wine. Only the slight greying at his temples portrayed his true age. “These things happen, Paul. Look at our Jonah, he wasn’t planned, was he? But that didn’t make us love him any less.”
“I suppose so.” Paul was thoughtful for a moment. “But that boy had better own up to his responsibilities, and if he doesn’t …” He gave a slight shake of his head leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.
Cathy nodded. Of that, she could agree on and she hoped to God that Jaden came through for her niece, for both his sake as well as Katie’s.
Chapter 16
“So who do you reckon this bloke is?” Two weeks later, Jonah eyed his friend above the rim of the pint glass.
Gulping at his drink, Jaden shrugged his shoulders. The fact that he couldn’t look his best friend in the eye wasn’t lost on either of them.
“I mean,” stuffing his hand into his jeans pocket, Jonah continued, “it’s not like she even goes out very often, is it?” He paused for effect. “Let me reword that. What I mean is, she doesn’t go out without us being present, does she? And I’ve never even seen her talk to a bloke, let alone go off and do anything with one.”
“I dunno.” Jaden looked around him for an escape route. He knew he should have declined coming out for the evening, and ever since Katie’s bombshell, he’d avoided his two best friends like the plague. He was only grateful that Kieran hadn’t decided to join them for the night. One brother was bad enough, but two, well, let’s put it this way, he didn’t think much of his chances, should they guess the truth and the situation get out of hand. They were hard little bastards, the Mooney brothers, and being their best mate, he knew that to be a fact, considering the amount of scraps they had gotten into over the years. Unless they ended up having a tear up of some sort, the brothers actually considered it to be a quiet night out.
“So, who do you reckon he is then?”
“I said, I don’t fucking know. Can we just drop it now?” As Jaden snapped out the words, it sounded a lot harsher than he’d intended, and to his ears, the outburst made him sound even guiltier.
As Jonah shrugged his shoulders, Jaden hastily averted his eyes. He didn’t like the way his mate was eyeing him. He’d always been the same, had Jonah. He was a shrewd fucker, and out of the two brothers, he was the thinker, the one who was suspicious of everything and everyone around them. Those dark blue eyes of his had a knack of being able to look into your very soul, something that had always amused him in the past. Until now that was, when he himself was on the receiving end of Jonah’s skepticism.
On the stereo system “Hot in Herre,” by Nelly, began to blare out, and he could feel his cheeks redden. He’d danced to that song with Katie, right underneath the watchful eyes of her cousins, and the memory of that night, coupled with Jonah’s stare, was enough to make him want to squirm.
“Is there anything you need to tell me?” It was said in a care-free manner, too care-free, if he knew Jonah as well as he thought he did.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jaden snapped his head toward his friend.
Jonah lifted his eyebrows. His silence told Jaden everything he needed to know, and he momentarily closed his eyes. He should have known that Jonah would be the one to suss everything out.
The sudden punch to his face was the equivalent of a car crashing into him, and he staggered backward, feeling somewhat dazed.
“I knew it,” Jonah snarled. “I knew from the moment she dropped the bombshell that it was you.” His fists flew out a second, third, and fourth time. The action was so fast that Jaden could barely block the blows, and as blood poured from a slit eyebrow, he knew for a fact that if he didn’t get to his feet and fast, then Jonah would finish him off. It was as simple as that.
“It weren’t like that,” he hollered, to be heard above the music. “It was all her doing. She chased after me. She wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone, kept putting it on me. How was I supposed to turn her away?”
It was the worst thing he could have ever said, and as Jonah’s fists swung toward him even faster, he resounded himself to the fact he was in for a well-deserved hammering.
* * *
There was something about Donna Cassidy that Kieran liked, really liked, and after their chance meeting in the café, he had actively sought her out. Much to his pleasure, he had actually found her just days later, sitting at the exact same table where he had first seen her. It was her easy manner that he liked, he decided. That and the fact she didn’t demand anything from him. She was more than happy to spend the night in his company as and when she could, and even though he suspected that she wanted more from him, she never demanded his attention like many of the girls before her had. In his eyes, there was no greater turn off than a woman who believed that he belonged to her, that he was her property, that he should come running at her beck and call.
As he lay back in her double bed with the pillows behind his head, he looked around the small bedroom. It was nothing fancy and certainly nothing like his own bedroom at his parents’ house, which was filled with the latest gadgets on the market. Whatever his little heart desired he had in abundance, but Donna’s home, on the other hand, was what his mother would describe as shabby. The furniture, including the bed where he had spent many nights sleeping amongst other things, had seen better days, but it was clean and more than comfortable, and he loved it. In fact, he loved everything about the little set up she had going on. From the sound of her children laughing and squealing, and more often than not, arguing over a favourite toy, to the washing machine that seemed to be in constant use, to the scent of a cooked breakfast sizzling away in the big frying pan in the kitchen.
He lit a cigarette and smiled down at the woman in question as she began to stir beside him. He’d needed this, really needed it. After the past few weeks he’d had, a night of sex had been the perfect way for him to forget the trouble that had been brought to his family’s door. A stir of anger rippled through him once more. When he go
t his hands on the bastard who had touched his little cousin, he would happily throttle the life out of him.
Opening her eyes, Donna gave him a wide smile then proceeded to stretch out lazily across the bed. As she did so the sheet slid from her body, exposing her large breasts. Just the mere sight of her dark nipples was enough to make him begin to harden.
He continued to watch her, and as she sat up, she took the cigarette from his fingers, took a deep drag, then blew out a thin stream of bluish grey smoke.
“Will I see you tonight?”
“Maybe.” He could hear the hope in her voice, and taking the cigarette back from her, he shrugged his wide shoulders. Beside him on the bedside cabinet his mobile phone vibrated. He casually glanced toward it, and seeing his brother’s name flash up on the screen, he hastily switched the phone off. Donna snuggled in even closer and he smiled softly. After spending weeks thinking it over, curiosity had finally gotten the better of him and he cleared his throat. “Do you remember that day in the café?”
Donna cocked her head to one side. “Which day?” she asked innocently. “The first time, or when you came back looking for me?”
Pulling her underneath his arm, Kieran kissed the top of her head. “The first time.”
“Of course, what about it?”
“You said that I reminded you of someone. I think you said I was his double?”
Donna giggled. Despite the age difference between them, her girlish laughter made her seem a lot younger than she actually was. “Don’t tell me you are jealous?” she scoffed.
He shook his head. Although he had to admit, he didn’t like the fact that she had been with other men before him.
