Sparks (Wild Irish Silence Book 1)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “Oh my God!” Janae Ramsey said, putting her hand to her mouth.

  It was a shock to see her little girl, lying in the arms of what was obviously a much older man. And naked no less!

  “Allexxiss Jean Ramsey!” Charles roared. “You get yourself out of that bed and dressed this instant!”

  “Now wait a bloody minute here,” Brenden said, sitting up and pulling an already cowering Allexxiss back against him possessively.

  “You, young man, have made a big mistake,” Charles railed, turning his fury on Brenden.

  His fury was met with a cool blue-green stare.

  “Lex isn’t going anywhere,” Brenden told Charles. “And you got the name wrong, it’s Allexxiss Jean O’Malley now.”

  “What?” Charles asked, paling significantly.

  “Yup,” Brenden said with a wintery smile, “my wife.”

  “You bastard!” Charles yelled, curling his hands into fists.

  “You go on and try that, man, and I’ll put you down, right quick.”

  “You can’t do this, she’s under age!” Janae put in, seeing the situation getting out of control quickly.

  “Not in England she isn’t,” Brenden said calmly.

  “I’ll take you apart,” Charles snarled.

  “Come try,” Brenden said, moving to stand.

  Allexxiss mobilized then, turning to Brenden.

  “Brenden, no!” she said, putting her hands on his chest. “Please, Bren, don’t,” she said to him fearfully. She turned to her father then, pulling a sheet up to cover herself. “Daddy, I know you’re mad, but you have to know that I love Brenden.”

  “You’re too young to know anything about love, Allexxiss,” Charles said, his tone derogatory.

  “Daddy, I love him,” Allexxiss maintained. “And,” she said, hesitating, but knowing she needed to tell them all of it, “I’m having his baby.”

  “Oh my god …” Jenae said, devastated.

  “I’m sorry, mother,” Allexxiss said, looking like she truly was. “It wasn’t something we planned on, it just happened, but I love him and I’m staying here with him.”

  “In squalor?” Charles asked.

  “Love isn’t about money, Mr. Ramsey,” Brenden said.

  “Yes, but love can’t put food on your table, boy,” Charles shot back.

  “No, but I can,” Brenden said confidently. “I’ve been on my own since I was fourteen. I can take care of myself, Allex, and this baby.”

  “Allex has a lot more going for her than being some drudge housewife to a bartender, boy.”

  Brenden narrowed his eyes at the other man. “I don’t plan to be a bartender forever, but even if I am, I love your daughter, and she loves me. It’s not something you can buy for her.”

  “Well, don’t expect to get any money from us,” Charles said, drawing himself up.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, old man,” Brenden said, his tone snide.

  Charles looked at Allexxiss with sad eyes. “This isn’t what we wanted for you, Allexxiss,” he said, his tone sounding something near sympathetic, “but I know you’re headstrong and no amount of yelling will change your mind. You’ll make your own mistakes. You’re about to learn a very hard lesson.”

  Allexxiss started crying, and Brenden felt the first prick of guilt. The first prick that would become many stab wounds over the next year of their lives together. It was just the beginning.

  Los Angeles, 1998

  Allexxiss remembered that first night at the pub, vividly, and so often. So much happened after that, and here she was trying to avoid his picture in the paper. It was ridiculous! She’s managed to avoid running into him the entire five years she’d been in Los Angeles. She was terrified of what he’d say, sure that he would be nasty and sarcastic as she knew he could be. As cold as he had been that last time she’d seen him … Her mind drifted again, but she couldn’t let herself do this. Not here in the dining room with the servants around. She went up to her room and lay on the bed, thinking about that first night again. It had been so incredible at first, so great, so perfect.

  ♪ 　　 Two ♪

  Allexxiss looked back at her husband for the longest time, not sure what to say to him. He’d come home and announced that she was not being financed for her movie by Artisan Pictures. The project she was working on, was a script she’d read and loved. The movie was called The Living Edge, and it was just that, an edgy thriller about a woman fighting against all odds to take back her life when it is ruined by lies and deceit.

  “How can they back out on financing it?” she asked, feeling bereft suddenly.

  Maxwell shrugged. “They decided it was too risky a project.”

  “Damn it!” she said, feeling a sense of impotent fury.

  Maxwell simply shook his head dismissively as if he couldn’t understand why Allexxiss cared.

  “What’s one more movie?” Maxwell said, his tone reflecting his lack of concern.

  Allexxiss couldn’t believe he’d just said that, he really didn’t understand anything. How could he not? She’d explained to him in detail why it was important to her, why couldn’t he understand that?

  Finally, she walked out of the dining room and upstairs. She changed into her workout clothes and went downstairs into the garage. Getting into her Jaguar XK8, she opened the garage, and gunned the engine. She drove down the hill and over to the gym. Once there she did a grueling two-hour workout, trying to work off the anger she was feeling.

  It wasn’t fair! All the crappy ass movies Artisan put out on a regular basis, and with actors no one knew or cared to know. She’d brought millions to the company with her movies, and when she needed backing for one project, they couldn’t see their way clear? Bullshit! She thought viciously as she kicked the bag again and again. When her muscles started to scream, she stopped. She went to her locker and changed into her bathing suit, pulled her hair up and put it into a twist at her neck. She took a shower, then walked into the area with the hot tub. Thankful that it was empty, she relaxed leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

  Allexxiss was totally relaxed when two women came into the room. She kept her eyes closed, hoping they’d take the hint and not try to engage her in conversation. Thankfully, they were busy talking to each other.

  “I thought he was dating Jordan Tate?” one woman was saying.

  “Well, he is, but he’s always dating two or three women at a time,” the other woman said.

  “God, I’d love to be one of them, that man is so hot!” the first woman said.

  “Yeah I agree with you there, BJ Sparks has a serious case of sexy.”

  Allexxiss squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the familiar pain start when she heard about him. Damn him! Why couldn’t she just forget all that had happened? Why couldn’t she put it behind her? He obviously had, why couldn’t she?

  London, 1979

  The first six months that Brenden and Allexxiss were married were the happiest of both of their lives. They spent every moment they could together. Brenden would leave her sleeping in his bed and go to work at the bar. He’d crawl into bed behind her as soon as he got home at 3 a.m. every morning. She enjoyed the way he curled his body around hers, wrapping his arms around her. She felt loved and safe. Allexxiss would usually sleep until around eight, then she’d get out of bed to take a walk around the neighborhood, determined not to get too fat with the baby. She would stop at the market and buy fresh fruit and vegetables, what little they could afford. Many times she’d spend her own money, what she had left from her trip money. She hadn’t spent much during her original two week stay, because she’d been with Brenden the entire time and he never let her pay for anything. So she’d spend a little here and there to buy something special for them to eat.

  Brenden constantly chided her for spending her money on him. He was adamant about taking care of her. Contrary to what her parents thought, Brenden James O’Malley was no gold digger. He didn’t care how much money her family had, he wanted nothing to do
with it or them. As far as Brenden was concerned, in marrying Allexxiss he’d taken her as his wife and his responsibility. And Brenden O’Malley never relied on anyone but himself to make due. It was his way, and Allexxiss admired it. She’d always been given anything she wanted, she’d never had to work for anything. Brenden on the other hand, had to work for everything he had, but he never complained, it was all he’d ever known.

  He’d run away from home when he was ten years old, leaving Ireland and his extremely poor parents behind. He headed to London, England, to make a man out of himself. He stowed away on a steamer leaving Dublin, and sailed around the coast to London. When he’d been caught, he was put to work. He worked hard and even managed to earn a few pounds for himself. By the time he got off the ship in London, he was ready for the world.

  It hadn’t taken long to realize he needed to find shelter. It also hadn’t taken long after that for the local police to realize how young he was and haul him off to the shelter. When he was cleaned up, with his deep auburn hair cut short and his face scrubbed, he was a handsome boy. He was quickly sent out to a foster home. The first of which was a disastrous affair, since they already had two children, both boys, and both uglier than sin. Brenden stuck out like a sore thumb. That had been when he’d learned to fight quickly. Both boys were brawnier than he was, and older by three and four years. That home lasted about six months. He’d finally had it with the two boys and had taken them both on, beating them both up and getting pretty bloody in the process.

  After that, he’d gone to another foster home, this time with no other children. He was put to work. He worked harder than he had on the tramp steamer he’d come to London on. He fell in bed exhausted every night. After two and a half years, he was full foot taller, and seventy-five pounds heavier, most of it was lean muscle from lifting, hauling, and doing any other sort of manual labor his foster parents wanted. At fourteen, he left the foster home and never looked back. He lied about his age and started getting any and every kind of job he could find. He’d started working at the pub he met Allexxiss in when he was sixteen and a half. He’d managed to get a fake ID by then, a better one than she had, and the owner hired him.

  Allexxiss would return from her morning walk by nine thirty, usually waking Brenden up with soft kisses to his back and shoulders. Most mornings he’d wake up, turning over and pulling her into his arms, kissing her deeply and making love to her. On a few occasions when he was especially tired, he’d pull her back down onto the bed with him, curling up behind her and holding her close as he slept on. He often told her he didn’t sleep near as well when she wasn’t next to him. He’d grown so accustomed to her body next to his, that when she got out of bed in the morning he immediately sensed the loss and slept fitfully until she came back.

  The first six months were indeed bliss for them both. Their first fight marked the beginning of the decline of their relationship. Brenden had just gotten home from the bar and as he walked into their darkened room he’d tripped over something. He turned on the hall light to try and see what he’d tripped on. He stood staring at the bassinet for a long time, his mouth agape. It was very obviously expensive, he was almost afraid to ask how much. He walked over to it as if loathe to approach it, and turned the tag over. He swore a blue streak the likes of which Allexxiss had never heard before. She woke to the stream of expletives he was growling.

  She sat up in bed, looking at him like he’d gone mad. He turned his fiery blue-green stare on her then.

  “You spent twelve hundred pounds?” he asked, his voice coming out with surprising calmness, although Allex easily sensed it was the calm before the storm.

  She hesitated answering, knowing now that it was a mistake. She’d never seen Brenden mad before, and she was afraid she was about to see it full force. She nodded slowly by way of a reply. Brenden nodded his head as well, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth, his hands balled into fists. It was obvious he was trying desperately to reign in his fury.

  “Allex, we don’t have twelve hundred pounds,” he said. His voice sounded calm, but there was a definite edge building.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I got them to give it to me on credit,” she said, biting her lip pensively.

  “Credit!” he exploded. “Do you not understand that credit means I not only have to make the fucking twelve hundred pounds but a good six hundred pounds on top of that to pay for this thing? The fucking kid will be in fucking college before I can pay for this!”

  Allex cringed at his words as well as the vehemence with which he yelled them. No, she hadn’t thought about that. All she’d thought about was how pretty it was, and how nice it would be for the baby. It had reminded her of the bassinet her mother had kept from her childhood, and it had made her miss home a little bit. When the saleswoman had offered her the option of credit, Allex had seized it, never really thinking about how they’d pay for it in the end.

  “It has to go back,” he said, shaking his head. “It has to, I can’t afford this, we can’t afford this.”

  He was pacing back and forth, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. It wasn’t the first time she’d bought something too extravagant, but the other purchases had been small, nothing of the magnitude this was. He was already losing sleep thinking of how he was going to pay for diapers and formula for the baby, let alone any other expenses that came up. But he was determined that their baby wouldn’t be born too soon, or unhealthy. If it took everything he had, this baby would be born healthy and Allex would be safe having it in a good hospital.

  That night he slept on the couch in the living room. He wanted to move them to their own place, but he was too busy saving up to compensate for the time off he’d need to take to help with the baby. The next morning he got up early and left the flat. He walked to a nearby shipping company and asked about picking up some extra work. They offered him a late night shift hauling bags of sand and gravel. He grabbed it, knowing he needed to double his efforts. He couldn’t let Allex down. He wouldn’t. She’d come from money; her family raised thoroughbreds in Kentucky, she didn’t know any better. He was determined to give her everything she wanted to make her happy. That next evening he was off and he went back to the flat. He walked into the flat, noticing that it was very quiet.

  As he walked into the bedroom, he saw Allexxiss sitting on the bed. She looked very unhappy. He glanced at the bassinet sitting in the farthest corner from the doorway, as if she was trying to remove it from his line of sight. Brenden walked over to the bed, looking down at her. She didn’t even lift her head to look at him. He felt a stab of guilt for the way he’d screamed at her the night before. She really didn’t know any better. All her life her parents had handed her everything. The concept of working for something never entered her mind. She was after all, only a sixteen-year-old girl.

  He touched her cheek, and kneeled on the bed. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears.

  “Oh babe …” he said remorsefully.

  He pulled her into his arms then, hugging her.

  “I’m sorry, Lex,” he whispered against her hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  She began to cry in earnest, and he felt worse. He held her, rocking her gently until her tears subsided.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said, her voice still emotional. “I shouldn’t have bought something so expensive without talking to you first. It was just so pretty,” she said, sounding so young and sweet.

  “It is babe, it is,” he agreed, looking over at the bassinet.

  “So you like it?” she asked hopefully.

  He looked down at her for a long moment, smiling at her. “Yes, I like it.”

  “Can we keep it?” she asked, her eyes lighting up like a kid’s eyes at Christmas.

  Brenden breathed a deep sigh and nodded. She gave an excited cry and threw her arms around him.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said over and over again.

  Brenden laughed, glad
that he’d made her so happy. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to pay for the expensive infant bed, but he knew he’d find a way. For her he’d find a way no matter what it took.

  As the days crept closer to Allexxiss’ due date, she became more and more withdrawn. Brenden had taken to staying at work or wherever until almost noon every day. When he got home, he was so tired he was ready to just drop into bed. At first, he tried to stay awake to do things with her, but it was increasingly obvious he was using his energies elsewhere. Allex starting thinking that he was probably screwing around on her. Of course he is, she thought viciously, I look like crap right now and I’m turning into a big fat cow! Those thoughts always made her cry. She’d cry herself to sleep, and when she’d wake the next morning she’d stew on what she’d been thinking the night before. By the time Brenden came through the front door, she’d be in such a bad mood she wouldn’t talk to him. Finally, they settled into a routine of him going straight to sleep when he got home, and her sitting around getting more and more anxious about the birth of the baby.

  She’d heard so many nightmare stories about how much it hurt, and how you felt like your insides were being ripped out. She also heard how women still died giving birth. What if she died? What if she couldn’t do it? What if it hurt too much? She worked herself into such a state that she started hyperventilating one day at the market. People around her thought she was going into labor. Someone who knew who she was, ran to get Brenden. He came on the run, and found her sitting on the floor crying hysterically and trying to breathe.

  “Okay baby, okay …” he said soothingly, getting down on his knees to take her in his arms.

  He smoothed his hands over her back, her hair, brushing away her tears gently. He held her for a long time, rocking her gently, while people in the market looked on.

  “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  She nodded, her face buried against his shirt.