His expression was taken aback as I spun on my heel and walked away.
“Follow her. DAMN you. You work for me. I said, follow her!”
“No, she told me to stay with you. Apparently your life is more important to her than her own.” I heard Buster reply as I pushed through the VIP door. I held my head high as I walked back through the club, avoiding the curious and occasionally leering glances. I hadn’t realized how exposed I’d feel without Buster’s protective presence.
I clenched my fists, feeling the icy coldness of my fingers as I pictured walking down Bourbon Street alone. I was pretty sure I remembered how to get back to the hotel from here, but dreaded the solitary walk if my ploy didn’t work.
I couldn’t imagine Ian wouldn’t come but it all depended on Buster playing his part. I knew Buster’s own protective instincts would have him anxious to join me, feeling that Ian could take care of himself, but I knew better.
Ian was in pain. I’d recognized it the second I saw him. Whatever had triggered it still existed, and until we could get past it he was only going to become more self-destructive.
I stepped back onto the street and quickly found myself pushed to the side from the crowds. I found myself pressed against a brick wall as I released the breath I’d been holding. Seconds later the door burst open again and Ian came rushing out, his gaze frantic as he looked around. Buster was right behind him catching him as he stumbled. Ian jerked away from his touch.
“If she’s harmed I will take it in your blood.” His accent was so thick it was difficult to decipher.
“If she’s harmed, I’ll gladly beat you to a pulp because it would be your fault.” Buster answered him as they glared at one another.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I have the two of you to make sure I don’t come to harm.” I replied, stepping forward.
“Love.” I opened my mouth to object to the endearment, but he held up a finger. “No, you are and always will be love to me. I have not called a single woman that since we’ve met. I assure you. I may have broken my promise, but I won’t lie to you.”
The sincerity glowing from his eyes stilled my protest and I found myself nodding. Ian vibrated with emotion and only at my acceptance did he move. He took my arm and stepped forward before pausing. He didn’t look back at Buster, but told him, “I’ll take her home. Return to Michael. He’ll need you to guard his back.”
“Yes, sir.” I glanced back at Buster, his tone catching me off guard as did the ferocious frown on his face.
Ian winced, a flicker of shame crossing his face.
“Thank you.” He said, turning to face Buster. “I don’t deserve her, mate. I know it. But you kept her safe and for that you will always have my gratitude.”
Some of the tension left Buster as Ian spoke.
“Tosser.”
“Wanker.” Ian replied, a glimmer of a smile coming back to his face. Buster slammed a hand against his shoulder, almost throwing him off balance. “You’re right, mate. She’s better than you deserve, but she seems to think you’re worth redeeming. I can’t fault her for that. But don’t let her down.”
Ian nodded, accepting the warning as his due. The streetlights gleamed off his mussed blond locks and I wondered how many women had run their fingers through it. Something on my face must have tipped Buster off as he gave me a considering glance, but I didn’t budge. I’d chosen my fate and I’d find out quickly enough if Ian could be saved.
We parted ways at the next intersection, and Ian took a left when I thought we should go straight.
“Shortcut.” He answered with a tilt of his head. I trusted him so I kept silent and followed. Each step was torturous as my heels seem to shrink on my feet, and by the time we reached the hotel I was ready to cry.
“Just a few more steps, love.” Ian supported me as I hobbled my way to the side entrance. Neither of us were prepared to walk in the front door of the hotel in case there happened to be a photographer loitering. “We truly look a pair.” He said, catching sight of our reflection as the elevator doors closed. “Vagabonds.”
I managed a weak smile as I leaned against him. My intense desire to know why was now tempered with doubts. I was relieved we’d made it back to the hotel unscathed, but I hadn’t missed the fact that Ian had withdrawn into himself with every step. Half the battle had been won. Ian had come with me. But the tight expression on his face made me wonder if I could handle knowing what caused him such pain.
I tightened my hand around his and felt a rush of relief as he squeezed back. Whatever the story was I’d deal with it. I only prayed I could find the words to help him.
We reached the room finally and slipped the shoes off with a cry of relief. It garnered a sympathetic smile from Ian as he told me, “Go change into your pajamas and I’ll rub your feet.” The thought was so sublime I obeyed immediately.
A few minutes later I returned to see him settled on one end of the sofa clad only in his undershirt and trousers, the bottle of bourbon next to him with a full glass. He caught my gaze and mustered a grin.
“I’m not nearly drunk enough to tell this tale, love. So you’ll have to forgive me this vice tonight.” I nodded, inexplicably afraid. Not of his tale, but the pain I was knowingly forcing him to endure in its telling. What right did I have to force him to this? Was I helping him or only making it worse?
He patted the cushion invitingly and I sank down, suddenly uncertain. He tugged my feet into his lap and pressed his thumbs deep into the ball of my foot. My own moan startled me and garnered a chuckle from him.
“Ah, love. You have no idea what you do to me.” He reached over and grabbed the glass of bourbon, tossing it back with a grimace. “A shame to treat such a fine whisky this way, but alas a wicked tale calls for wicked deeds.”
He glanced back at me, his fingers never letting up as he massaged the knots out of my feet.
“This story, as all the good ones do, begins with a lass.” He began. “She was a bonnie one, if you forgive me for stealing a phrase from Buster. I fancied myself in love as all lads are want to do when a pretty girl gives them liberties.” He swallowed and poured another glass, but didn’t drink it. “I was nineteen and we’d met at university. We told each other our deepest secrets, dreamed of a better future. I told her of how much it pained me to be the center of my parents’ disinterest. How I longed for their love. She told me she would love me, and I’d never need to worry over them again.” His gaze turned inward, but he continued to rub my feet, the touch seeming to keep him grounded in the present. “We spent an idyllic fall together, falling in love, I believed. I brought her home to meet my parents, for once uncaring at their indifference. Michael wasn’t there. They’d sent him off to negotiate a buyout. They had no respect for the Christmas holiday. I didn’t fret. I knew he’d have a chance to meet her soon enough.” A bitter smile crossed his face and he did reach for the glass this time, taking a swallow before setting it back down. “I’d determined I would ask this love of mine to marry me, but only after I’d introduced her to Michael. It was our way. We’d decided at a young age that lifetime commitments required the approval of the other.” I blinked back the dampness in my eyes, feeling my breath stutter as I inhaled. “I wonder sometimes what he would have thought of her. If he would have warned me against aligning myself with one such as her. But the opportunity never presented itself.” He met my eyes, but his were lost in the past as he stroked my foot. “Spring came and with it a gift. She told me she carried my child.” He bit his lip roughly as his eyes shuttered once more. “I was suitably frightened at the thought of being responsible for another life, but still I rejoiced. A son or daughter. A chance to love them as I had not been. I expressed my fears and excitement to her, but she was upset. She thought a child would take away our dreams and I tried to assure her it would not. We would be fine. I thought of asking for her hand then, but I didn’t want it to seem as if I did it only because of the pregnancy.” He gave me a mocking smile. “I still wished
Michael’s approval, you see.” He took another swallow, glanced down, and took another. “He was overseas still so I waited impatiently. We went to the midwife and I heard the heartbeat.” At this point I wanted to tell him to stop. I knew where this tale would end and tears slipped down my face as he kept going on inexorably closer.
“It was early she told us, but strong. I don’t believe I’ve ever smiled like I did that day. I told the girl I loved that my brother would be home soon, and I wanted her to meet him. That he would help us. See I’d never told her that both my brother and I had trust funds. I was wary of gold diggers, but we couldn’t touch the trust until we were of age. Twenty-one. Michael was and I knew he’d support us until I could access my trust.” He leaned down, resting his head on my leg as he gripped my foot. He peeked up at me and the emotion in his eyes took my breath away. “I always wondered if that was my mistake. If I should have explained more fully. If she would have made a different choice.” He shook his head and sat up again. “I’ll never know, but it doesn’t matter now anyway. She did what she did. She aborted the baby at ten weeks and told me it was a miscarriage. I was devastated.” His eyes gleamed with wetness as tears ran unabashed down my face. “I’d pinned so many dreams on that little one. I couldn’t imagine it was all gone so quickly. I insisted she go to the midwife. I wanted to know why. My persistence finally broke her down and she admitted to aborting it at the clinic. I couldn’t understand. I thought she wanted the baby. That’s what she’d told me. She’d never mentioned abortion. A few days later she broke up with me and left. Packed her things and was gone with no explanation.” I swallowed, the pain on his face hard to witness as I realized how deeply she’d wounded him, but I was also aware the story wasn’t over.
“I wished to lick my wounds. The child I’d lost haunted me. The woman I believed myself in love with had betrayed me with no warning. I was enraged. I acted out and was promptly kicked out of university. I don’t remember the trip home or even why I went home. Perhaps I was seeking acceptance, love of some kind. I don’t know, but I didn’t find it there.”
He finished the glass of bourbon and poured another shot. I held out my hand and he gazed at it with surprise before passing me the glass. I took a deep swallow, wincing at the burn but it warmed the chill that had formed inside of me as I thought of his parents and imagined their rejection.
“When I arrived, they were suitably disappointed. As Father told me, “We paid to fix your mistakes but still you manage to screw up. You are a disappointment to this family’s name.” His stare was dead as dread began to crawl up my spine.
“I puzzled on that in my drunken stupor. I couldn’t quite put the pieces together. What did he mean by paying to fix my mistakes? My tuition was paid from the trust. I demanded to know what he meant and he laughed. Mother told me ‘my pregnant whore’ had come calling. My parents couldn’t stand the thought of my ‘bastard child’ existing and casting shame upon the family so they offered her money to abort my child.”
Bile clawed its way up my throat causing me to swallow hard. His hands shook against me and he wrapped them tightly around my feet in an effort to still them.
“Half a million pounds. That’s what my child’s life was worth to them. To the woman that carried him.” I climbed across the sofa, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He didn’t move, sitting as still as a statue. “I didn’t know who I hated more in that moment. The girl I’d loved and promised to take care of or my parents – the ones who should have loved my child as much as I did. I still don’t know which of them I hate more.” I tucked my head into the curve of his neck, his stillness frightening me even as I clung to him, desperate to give him the comfort he’d needed then.
“The next few months were a blur. Michael finally dragged me out of my stupor. He had Buster with him by then and he asked me countless times what was wrong, but the words would never come. They cleaned me up and have been ever since.” He turned his head, seemingly surprised to find me clinging to him. He brought his arms up around me. “At least until now. Now it seems I have a little warrior to keep me on the straight and narrow.”
I shook as the sobs poured out of me. All the tears he couldn’t seem to shed I cried for him. The boy that had been continuously rejected by his parents, the teenager that had been betrayed by the woman he loved, and the man that sat before me still grieving the loss of his child and the ones he loved.
“Oh, love, don’t cry for me. I survived and I found you. So maybe, just maybe, it was all worthwhile.” He whispered, stroking my back gently as my tears soaked his shirt. “I do regret one thing tonight.” I sniffled, rubbing my head against him wanting to know what. “I didn’t get to dance with you. You were so very beautiful in your dress. It is a shame.” A choked laugh escaped me as I pulled back to gauge his seriousness. His expression didn’t change as he stared back at me and I placed my thumbs against his cheeks, his gray eyes mesmerizing me as I leaned forward. The sound of the door had him pushing me back gently, a warning in his gaze.
“Go to bed, little warrior. This tale does not bear repeating.” I stumbled to my feet as Michael came in. He took in the scene with a glance, his expression concerned as he saw the tear tracks on my face. I shook my head, forcefully wiping the tears from my cheeks with the edge of my hand.
“Good night,” I whispered, moving to my room by rote. The click of the door behind me unleashed the remainder of my tears and as I curled up in the bed I allowed the pillow to soak up my tears as I cried myself to sleep for the man I loved.
***
I was poised, frozen on the sofa, as Michael stepped closer. The veneer I kept so carefully maintained was close to shattering after telling Jane my story. I knew I’d disappointed Michael tonight and waited for his ire. He settled on the sofa where Jane had been and indicated the bottle of bourbon.
“Do you have enough for two?” He asked and I nodded, pouring each of us a glass. We sipped in silence for a while as the past once again threatened my peace. When we finished our drink, he reached for the bottle and poured us another. “I don’t know what transpired this evening, but I won’t leave you alone to drink, brother. Tonight, we drink together.” He tipped his glass toward mine and as they clinked the past slipped back into the darkness where I’d buried it.
Chapter Nine
The morning sun woke me, its brightness piecing my swollen eyes. I pressed my hands to my head where a headache throbbed. My emotional evening had left me feeling hungover, or at least what I imagined a hangover would feel like.
The thought of Ian had me leaping from the bed, worried he’d slipped out in the night to try and drown his sorrow once again. I stumbled my way to the door in my haste, understanding now what drove him. The level of betrayal he’d experienced was incomprehensible to me.
My parents may have made mistakes but never would they turn their back on me. I knew this with absolute certainty. I also knew Michael would never turn on Ian, but he’d never had the opportunity to know the truth either. I’d understood Ian’s warning the night before. He didn’t want me to mention it to Michael, but I also knew Ian would not heal until he’d told his brother. I believed some part of him thought Michael would agree with his parents’ terrible betrayal.
As I came out of my room, I came to a standstill, the sight in front of me shocking. Ian and Michael were asleep on opposite ends of the sofa. A bottle of bourbon stood empty on the table in front of them, and they looked exceedingly uncomfortable with their arms and legs hanging off the too short sofa. Michael was a rumpled mess, his tie half undone around his neck, his sleeves roughly rolled up. They were sound asleep, and the expression of peace on Ian’s face kept me from waking them. Perhaps he’d found some measure of comfort in telling me his tale, and while I didn’t believe he’d told Michael, they’d obviously come to terms. I tiptoed back to my room as I decided a bath was in order. They deserved the chance to sleep in.
My bath couldn’t be rushed as my mind played back over everything I’d
learned the night before. One thing puzzled me though. What triggered Ian’s volatile reactions? I didn’t know what caused him to suddenly revert back to the behavior Michael and Buster both seemed to think I had changed. There was still a missing piece and without it I wasn’t sure Ian wouldn’t do it again.
When I finally came back out, they were up and dressed. I blinked in shock once again as I took in their attire. I’d seen Ian in workout clothes before, but this was the first time I’d witnessed Michael dressed so casually.
“Has the world come to an end and no one thought to tell me?” I managed to ask, gesturing to Michael. He wore black workout pants, tied loosely in the front with a gray muscle shirt. The look was so unlike him I barely noticed the impressively muscled biceps he’d kept hidden under his suits.
“Amusing. Ian and I thought we’d spar today.” The look they gave one another was appraising, and judging by their pallor and the empty bottle of bourbon that had mysteriously disappeared I imagined they were both hungover but unwilling to admit it.
“Breakfast first?” I piped up hopefully, glancing between them. Ian nodded, an amused smile playing around his lips.
“Breakfast first. We’ve rented out a gym for the day’s match.” He continued, and my comment about the ridiculousness of them renting out an entire gym to spar in rolled over me and was gone with his next words. “Buster will meet us there, but we’ll stop on the way to break our fast.”
“Wait, we aren’t eating here?” I asked, utterly confused. We always ate breakfast at the hotel. And looking over at Michael I still couldn’t picture him going anywhere dressed as he was.
“Nope. Come on, love. Close your mouth before you catch flies.” Ian tapped my chin and I snapped my mouth shut as they walked past me. I followed blindly, off-kilter from the sudden turn of events.
When we rolled up to a pair of golden arches I had to pinch myself to make sure I was actually awake. After they’d ordered the entire breakfast menu, Ian glanced at me to find out what I wanted. I replied automatically, still trying to decipher what was going on here. When Michael requested coffee instead of tea, I’d had enough.
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