Off Course

by Sawyer Bennett

  ***

  I turn the key in my door and open it up. Maeve is lying on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on her lap. She's wearing nothing but a t-shirt hiked up around her waist, showing me her barely there panties.

  The sight of her disgusts me.

  "Hey," she says brightly. "Want to come eat some popcorn and watch TV with me?"

  Stepping in, I shut the door. When I look at her, I wonder how I could have missed all the lies. I wonder how she thoroughly fooled me. I feel like an idiot.

  "I need you to get your stuff packed," I tell her.

  "Why?" she asks carefully.

  I don't answer but continue on. "Then I need you to get out of my home."

  "Cillian... what's going on?"

  I push forward. "Then you have two choices. You can go on your merry way and stay out of my life for good. Or your second option is to drive yourself straight to Dublin Mind Wellness and check in. If you complete rehab, and stay sober for a full year, then I may... may... consider letting you back in OTE. Until such time, consider yourself on permanent hiatus. I'm replacing you as the band's bassist."

  Tears form in her eyes and where once they made my heart shred for her pain, they fill me with loathing. "Cillian, why are you doing this to me? Please tell me what's wrong. When you say things like that to me, you know it just makes me sad." Her face lowers to the floor and she lets out a tiny sob. It's fake... I know it. "It makes me want to... to drink. Have a care with me, Cillian."

  I walk up to her fast and grab a fistful of her shirt, hauling her off the couch. The bowl of popcorn goes flying. Sticking my face in hers, I snarl, "You fucking lied to me, Maeve. You played some sick, twisted game with my feelings and you caused me to lose the woman I love. You're lucky I'm not strangling you right now. You're lucky I'm giving you a choice."

  "That's not true, Cillian. I swear it. What did Renner say about me? She's lying. You have to believe me."

  Still clutching her shirt, I drag her down the hall into the bedroom. Pushing her toward her suitcase, I release her and she stumbles a little. "Renner didn't tell me a damn thing. And I don't believe you. I don't know that I ever will. Now get packed and get out."

  "I'm sorry, Cillian. I didn't mean to do it that way. I was desperate. I thought I would scare Renner off, and then you'd see me again. Because you don't see anything when she's around. I just wanted you so bad. I didn't mean to lie about my parents... I just wanted you to stay by me."

  I'm so tired of this scene and I just need her to leave. "Please get dressed and go."

  Maeve drops to her knees and starts crying. "Don't abandon me, Cillian. I need you."

  Fury rages through me, because all I can think about is the fact that I abandoned Renner. I left her out in the cold and if she was feeling even a fraction of the sadness that Maeve is pretending to show me right now, she must have been completely devastated. My chest feels like it's caving inward, the pain of that thought is so intense.

  I turn my back on Maeve and walk back into my living room, opening the door. "I'll be back in half an hour. You better be gone by the time I get back or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

  I leave, softly shutting the door behind me.

  CHAPTER 25

  Renner

  I'm lying on my bed... well, on an inflatable mattress that's laying in the middle of Linc's former bedroom. I'm renting his condo from him for the time being and first order of business needs to be to get some furniture. Well, that's the second order of business. First order is to get a job. Luckily, Linc has cut me a hell of a deal on the rent--he's basically charging me peanuts.

  I have a good nest egg saved up from when I worked at Delta and I'm thankful I never had to tap into it while I lived in Dublin.

  Just thinking of Dublin brings a tiny pang to my chest. Then thinking of Dublin causes me to think of Cillian and the pang morphs into a full-blown stab of agony.

  I miss him so much--despite the betrayal I'm feeling. Despite the heartbreak.

  A day doesn't go by that I don't think of getting on a plane and flying back to him. Maybe I shouldn't have given him an ultimatum. Maybe I should have told him the truth of what I knew about Maeve. Maybe I should have just given him time to work through the issues with Maeve.

  Was I being selfish? Was I being a brat... demanding that he choose me over another woman?

  All questions that won't be answered, because no matter how much I miss him, no matter how many times I question the sanity of my actions, I know...deep down... that I won't do anything to change my current situation. I'm too stubborn, or too much of a coward. I'm not sure which but either way, it has me frozen here and unable to do anything to end my torture.

  So all I can hope is that time will cause this ache to go away and that I'll be able to move on with my life.

  Pulling my iPhone out, I flip through my music and choose one of OTE's songs, Walking on Tree Tops. It's my favorite because it talks about doing impossible things with no risk of failing. I don't know why I torture myself by listening to Cillian's voice every day through his music, but maybe it speaks to the fact that I'm not ready to let him go.

  Slipping my ear buds in, I let my mind drift and I think about one of my favorite moments with Cillian. It seems silly that it would stay at the forefront of my mind, but maybe not. It's the night he first saw me at The Hibernian after I'd moved to Dublin. He had been so cocky and arrogant, throwing his rock star status around like it would mean something to me. I wanted to punch him in the face, and let's face it, I was slightly hurt he didn't recognize me. Then he called me cailin alainn, and I knew--in that split second--that he had never forgotten me. Even after all those years.

  I wonder if five years from now he'll remember me? I know I will never forget him.

  I set the song on repeat, close my eyes, and listen.

  When the lyrics start over for the third time, I for some weird reason get an overwhelming sense of danger and foreboding come over me and the hair stands up on my arms. Slowly, I open my eyes and I'm assaulted by the immediate realization that there is a man standing in my bedroom doorway.

  Shrieking like a banshee, my arms and legs briefly flailing around like a muppet, I roll my body off the mattress and away from the intruder, bouncing to my feet.

  When I finally focus on the man, it takes a slight moment for my brain to process that I'm staring at my brother, Flynn.

  Clasping one hand to my chest in an effort to quell the frantic beating of my heart, I rip the ear buds out with my other hand. "Jesus, Flynn. You gave me a fucking heart attack."

  My lungs are heaving with an effort to start the oxygen flowing again as it had been sucked out of me from sheer terror.

  He laughs... a deep, rich sound. "Sorry. I was going to touch you on the leg to get your attention but figured that would freak you out more."

  It's true... if he had touched me while I was zoned out listening to music, I would have peed my pants just before my heart exploded and sent me into cardiac arrest.

  "Well, don't sneak up on me again. If I had a gun I would have blown your brains out," I grumble.

  "If you'd answer your door when the doorbell rings, I wouldn't have to resort to sneaking up on you."

  I give him an exasperated look and walk by him out the bedroom door. He follows me into the kitchen and I pull a bottle of water out of the fridge, holding it up to see if he wants one. He shakes his head and I close the door, twisting the cap off to take a sip.

  "So what's up?" I ask.

  He shrugs. "Just checking on you to see how you're doing."

  I study Flynn. He's older than me by four years and has always looked out for me the way a big brother would. Actually, I had three of them looking out for me between him, Linc and Nix. I think of the boyfriends I had that they scared the shit out of through vile words and other intimidation tactics. It used to bug the crap out of me, but in hindsight I have to admit it's endearing.

  Flynn's dark brown hair and hazel eyes are classic Caldw
ell trademarks. You'd never guess we were related, except we share the same nose. Otherwise, everyone always thought the three Caldwell boys were brothers and I was the visiting cousin when we were together.

  "I'm fine," I tell him.

  "If that's the case, how come you're holed up here in this empty condo all by yourself? You don't even have any furniture here, Ren."

  "I'm going to get some... as soon as I get a job."

  "Why don't you just move back in with Mom and Dad until then."

  I shake my head. "I'm a little too old to be moving back home."

  "Then move in with me. I have an extra bedroom."

  Smiling at my brother, I give him an indulgent look. "I love you to pieces, Flynn, but there's no way in hell I'm moving into that hovel you call a home. Besides... I just want some time alone."

  Leaning his hip against the counter, he crosses his arms. "That's what's worrying me, Ren. You want to be alone an awful lot since you returned from Dublin. That's not like you."

  I don't respond to him, because I'm afraid I'll break down into a small lake of tears. My family is wonderful... the best ever. But I haven't told any of them what happened in Dublin. Other than what I had briefly told my mom, none of them know about Cillian and I want to keep it that way. I just want to keep pushing and shoving all of the memories, good and bad, into a dark place and hopefully one day move past them.

  "Cady's worried about you."

  Pangs of anxiety shoot through me. "Why? Did she call or something?"

  "She's called, emailed, texted... said you're not responding to her. That's not fair to her."

  Guilt overwhelms me. I've been avoiding Cady like the plague, because I'm afraid that the barest contact I have with her will cause my resolve to weaken and I'll ask about Cillian. Which, of course, she'll tell me anything I want to know.

  And I'm terrified to even hear the slightest bit of news about him. I'm terrified she'll tell me he's moved on, that he's forgotten all about me, that he and Maeve are a couple, that they're getting married and going to have lots of babies. My mind runs amok at the possibility of all the heinous things she may tell me that I'm just not ready to hear.

  "I'll call her... soon." I can't help the fact that my words sound hollow.

  Flynn just looks at me, his face serious and intent. I hold a staring contest with him, to see who will blink and look away first. His eyes are warm and sympathetic, his mouth turned down slightly at the corners. He has a knowing look on his face.

  A really, really knowing look.

  "Oh, God... she told you about him, didn't she?"

  "Yes, but only after I relentlessly hammered her to get the information. She eventually caved when I told her I was worried sick about you and didn't know how to help you. Why didn't you tell me? Or at least Mom?"

  My shoulders sag. "I don't know... it's too painful I guess. I want to forget about him."

  "Cillian?"

  I nod.

  "Look... I don't pretend to know everything and I'm sure Cady gave me an abbreviated version, but if you want to talk about it...you know I'll listen. Hell, I'll even lend one of my strong and manly shoulders for you to cry on if you want."

  My heart melts over his words. Flynn has always been a tough man, but he has a heart of gold. I've cried on his shoulder more than once.

  "Thanks, Flynn," I say, drawing in a shaky breath. "But I really don't know what there is to talk about. I loved him... no, I love him. I think I always will. But things got in the way and he didn't love me back."

  That's the first time I've uttered those words, either out loud or even in my head. That Cillian didn't love me, and saying them out loud brings a level of truthfulness to the situation that paints a stark and barren picture for me.

  Oh, God. Cillian didn't love me.

  He cared for me...of that, I'm sure. But it was never, ever enough for him to choose me. I was never important enough to him.

  Despair wells up in me. I look at Flynn and his eyes are swimming in love for me, and I know he can feel the pain pouring off me. He does nothing more than open his arms and I walk in them. I lay my head on his chest while he carefully wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight.

  I let the tears fall, barely staining my cheeks before they seep into his shirt. I miss Cillan at this point, like I've never missed him before. But every tear that falls, I remember that he's probably not missing me. For every drop of wetness that Flynn absorbs, I remember that what we had wasn't strong enough. For every wet sorrow that escapes me, my heart starts to accept that it's truly over.

  I realize, with finality, I need to get this out of my system, and move on.

  So I go ahead and cry, because Flynn is offering me a safe environment to do it in. He whispers words of comfort as my tears pour, promising me that it will get better with time.

  It takes me several minutes for the flow to stop, and when they do, I pull away.

  "Feel better?" he asks.

  "Not really," I tell him as I grab a paper towel and blow my nose. "But I will be. I know I will be."

  "That's my girl. Want to go out and get a beer or something?"

  Smiling I say, "Sure. Just let me go throw some makeup on to get rid of my red and blotchy skin."

  He smiles back and tweaks me on the chin. "Okay, but shake a leg. And wings... I want to get some wings. I'm starving."

  CHAPTER 26

  Cillian

  I knock on the door sharply and then take a few steps back, jamming my hands in the pockets of my jeans. The heat and humidity here in New Jersey is brutal and I'm already sweating up a storm. Part of it is nerves, I'm sure. I check the number beside the door, just to make sure I'm at the correct address that Cady gave me.

  Hoping to God it's Renner that answers the door, I wait. I'm not ready to deal with her parents or, even worse yet, her brother or cousins. I just need to see Renner so I can try to fix what got broken between us.

  I knock again and wait. I don't hear anything from the inside so maybe she's not here. In fact, I'm not even sure Renner is living here. When I asked for Cady's help in finding her, she sort of brushed me off, but eventually relented and gave me her parents' address.

  There were a few things I had to take care of before I could leave Dublin, but now I don't have anything on my plate for the foreseeable future except for getting Renner back.

  No matter how long that takes.

  I decide to forego knocking for a third time and step off the porch, heading back to my rental car. I suppose I'll have to get a hotel nearby and try again later. I sigh, thinking of having to navigate the roads around here. This is my second time in the States, the first being just a year ago when we did a partial tour on the West coast. I was lucky enough then not to have to drive and I was sweating bullets on the trip from the Newark airport out to Renner's house. I hate that you have to drive on the right side of the road here. It hurts my head having to pay such close attention to what I'm doing.

  Just as I'm about to open the car door, I hear, "Can I help you?"

  Turning around, I have to shade my eyes from the late afternoon sun to see who is talking to me. It's a guy, about my age, maybe a little older. He's just a tad bit taller than me with a friendly smile on his face. He's walking around from the side of the house, holding onto a grease rag that he's using to wipe his hands. If I had to guess, I'm sure I'm getting ready to meet Flynn Caldwell...or maybe it's Nix. I'm pretty sure it's not Linc since he lives in Phoenix.

  "I'm looking for Renner," I say.

  The minute he hears my accent, the smile vanishes off his face and it's clear he knows who I am. "She's not here."

  "Any idea when she'll be back?" I try to keep my voice as pleasant as possible, because I can tell from his body language and tone of voice that he doesn't like me. But if he doesn't tell me what I need to know, I'm not above pounding it out of him.

  "She doesn't live her."

  "Well, can you tell me where she lives then?"

  "Sorry... I'm not about
to hand that over to a perfect stranger."

  "My name is--"

  "Save it. I know who you are. Still a perfect stranger to me. Now get the fuck off my parents' property." This last bit is said with such menace, there's a very good chance we may throw down right here in the front yard.

  Just to piss him off, I casually close the car door and lean back against it. Folding my arms across my chest, I peruse him up and down. "You're Flynn, right? Renner told me all about you." The way I say it is not flattering at all, and in fact makes it sound like I know some deep and dirty secret he may be hiding. Which I don't. But I'm all of a sudden not in the mood to play nice.

  His eyebrows raise and his eyes glitter with heat. He takes a few steps toward me, wiping the last bit of grease from his fingers. Dropping the rag to the ground, he takes his index finger and pushes it into the middle of my chest. Not hard, but not soft... just enough so he can make his point. "I'm only going to say this once. Get your ass back on a plane and get back across the Pond. You're wasting your time. I'm not about to let my baby sister have to deal with you, not after she cried her eyes out in my arms the other day."

  He removes his finger and turns away from me, walking toward the back of the house. I call out to him.

  "Hey, Flynn." He stops but doesn't turn around. "She's cried in my arms, too. Don't you think that says something?"

  I can see him take a deep breath, his head bowed down. He turns slightly to look at me. "Meet me at Joe's Tavern in an hour."

  Now that's a surprise.

  It's not an immediate acquisition of Renner's address, but at least it's something. It appears he's going to make me jump through some hoops first.

  "I don't know where that is," I say.

  He gives me an evil smile. "You look like a bright boy... I'm sure you can figure it out." Then he turns his back on me and walks away.

  Fucker.

  Pulling out my phone, I Google Joe's Tavern and figure out how to get there. I see it's not too far away and decide to go hunt down a hotel while I have some time. I have a feeling this isn't going to go as fast as I'd hoped.

  ***

  Joe's Tavern is pretty disgusting, but of course, I'm comparing it to the splendor of The Hibernian. The floor is a dull, gray concrete and the bar itself is made of faux-wood Formica that's chipped on the edges. The barstools have holes in the fake leather covering with stuffing spilling out. My shoes stick to the floor when I walk in.