Reasons to Leave (Reasons #1)

by Lisa J. Hobman

  “Mr. Reynolds! Are you all right?”

  He wiped his eyes. “Not really, but I’ll live.” He smiled sadly and walked through the doors.

  Overcome with nausea, he took some time in the men’s restroom to splash water on his face and calm himself. After walking away from his father’s room, a sense of panic had washed over him. He was suffering palpitations, and he knew that part of it was down to just being here, in this area again. He longed to go back to Scotland. Back home. But now his father had passed, he knew that returning home would most probably be delayed.

  He had no idea how long he’d been standing there, staring at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Thankfully, no one else had entered. After taking a few deep breaths, he left the rest room and made his way toward the hospital’s exit.

  “Jason!” He looked to his left just as a fist connected with his face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jason staggered backwards with the force of the impact. He hit the wall with his back and the air left his lungs in a whoosh. Bending double, he gulped desperately trying to pull air back in, but as he looked up, he could see the fist ready to strike again. It came toward him again, this time hitting him in his side.

  “You bastard! You fucking disappear off the face of the earth for ten years, and then you come back like nothing’s happened! And you’re the one who’s by his bed when he dies! You selfish, spineless bastard!”

  Jason recognised his brother’s voice, albeit more mature than he remembered. He didn’t retaliate. He stood up and the fist connected with his face again. People walking into the hospital stared and gave the pair a wide berth. Someone shouted for security, and two large, burly, uniformed men came to grab for Dillon. Through blurred vision and the blood seeping from the corner of his eye, he could see that Dillon had filled out quite a bit. He’d always been a scrawny kid. His mousey brown hair was in a fashionable short crop, and his eyes mirrored Jason’s in colour, but that was where the similarity ended. And there was something else burning in there too.

  Hate.

  He wore loose fitting jeans and a fitted white T-shirt, which was now spattered with Jason’s blood. He watched as the two security guards lunged forward. Holding up his hands, he yelled, “No! Leave him. He’s my brother.” The two men glanced at each other in confusion.

  “Don’t go playing the fucking big brother card with me now, Jason. I have no brother! Not after what you did!” The pain and anguish was audible in the younger man’s voice, and he lurched forward again delivering another blow to Jason’s body, making him crumple to the floor. “You killed them, Jason! You killed Mum first when you left and never said why. You just up and left! How could you do that to her?” Another punch, this time to his back. “And now you’ve killed Dad! I’ve lost everything because of you! No one was the same after you left. I got the scraps of everyone because you decided to do a disappearing act! How could you? Did I mean nothing to you? Did we mean nothing to you? And what about Stevie, eh? You left her too!”

  Another punch made contact but with less force. Dillon appeared to be tiring himself out.

  Jason sat in a crumpled heap, blood streaming down his face and his eye swelling as he was motionless, slumped against the wall.

  The two security guards grabbed Dillon. “Oy! Enough, sonny Jim!” One of them shouted right in Dillon’s ear. “You’re upsetting the other visitors. You pack it in right now, or I call the police, capiche?” He strained against the men who were twice his size. After tugging and resisting, Dillon finally held his hands up in surrender.

  The men let him go and stepped back but hovered in case he decided to attack again. Jason looked up and waved the men off. “It’s fine…we need to talk…thanks for your concern though.”

  He pushed himself up and felt his nose. There was so much blood. An elderly lady skirted around Dillon and passed Jason a handful of paper towels without speaking a word. “Thanks, love. I appreciate that.” He did his best to smile as the lady gave him a sympathetic look and Dillon a scowl before walking through the hospital entrance. The security guards backed away and left the men alone.

  Jason looked up into Dillon’s face to see an expression, which was a combination of fear, anger, regret, and sadness. His chest heaved up and down. His hair was damp with either sweat or the fact that he had rushed here after a shower.

  Panting like he’d run a marathon, Jason addressed his brother. “Do you want to go inside, and I’ll wait here for you?”

  Dillon’s face contorted with confusion. “You didn’t fight back…you just…you let me hit you. Why didn’t you fight back?”

  “Because you’re my brother, Dillon, and as much as you have no idea why I left, you are obviously upset and have every right to be so. So I didn’t want to hit you. I don’t want to hit you. I know I have a funny way of showing it, but I do love you. I always did. I’m not here to fight with you.” Jason blew out a long huff of air and dabbed at his cut lip. “Look, go on inside. Say your goodbyes. I’ll be here when you come out.”

  Dillon still looked confused and shook his head. He pointed a finger at Jason accusingly. “You owe me some answers, Jason. But I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m so angry all I want to do is punch you as soon as I look at you. Now fuck off back to wherever you crawled out from. We’ll talk when I want to. On my terms.”

  Jason nodded. “Okay, little bro. That’s fine.” He took out his wallet and removed a business card. “My mobile number is on this card. Ignore the other stuff, it’s my business up north. I’m staying at the Sure Stay…the one just off the motorway. Room forty. I’ll wait to hear from you. We have lots to discuss, and there’s some stuff that you need to be prepared to hear. It’s not pretty.”

  And with that, Jason thrust the card into his brother’s hand. “Now you’ve got my contact details, it’s just how you want it…on your terms. I’ll wait to hear from you.” And with that, he turned and walked away.

  ****

  “He’s fucking back! I can’t believe it, Stevie. He must have some kind of telepathy. I don’t know how he dares to show his face around here after what he did.” Dillon’s disembodied voice sounded distressed and pained down the line.

  Stevie’s heart almost stopped. “Jason? He’s here?”

  “Yeah, he fucking is… Jesus, I’m so sorry for swearing…and I shouldn’t say Jesus either…but fuck. What do I do now?”

  Her heart drummed out an erratic rhythm in her chest. “When did you see him?”

  “He was just coming out of the hospital when I arrived. They’d rung to tell me Dad had passed away, and I rushed to get there. They said my brother was with him when he passed, but I should’ve been there, Stevie. Me not him.” A sob travelled down the line, making her heart ache for him. Regardless of what she thought of the man, he had never harmed Dillon.

  “I’m so sorry about your loss, Dillon. I really am.” She rifled through her thoughts, trying to make sense of Jason’s unannounced arrival back in their hometown.

  “But why is he here? Why would he come back now, Stevie? He didn’t come back for Mum. I just don’t get it.”

  She began to sweat. She was either going to have to tell him everything or she was going to have to lie. Neither option sat well in her gut. A split second decision brought her next words. “I saw him, Dillon. About a month ago. I was helping on a school trip that happened to be at an Outward Bounds centre up in the Highlands. It turned out that Jason owned the place.”

  “What? This…this Wild Front Here place on his business card? You went there? You saw him but didn’t think to tell me?”

  She swallowed the ball of anxiety lodged in her throat. “Look, Dillon, there are so many things that you don’t know. Jason asked me not to tell you, or anyone for that matter, that I’d seen him. He needed to stay away and had very good reason to do so. You have to believe me when I tell you that. What he did…when he left…he did it because he had to. I can’t tell you any more than that. Please trust me.�
��

  Dillon snorted. “How can I trust you? You lied to me by keeping it from me. A lie by omission is still a fucking lie, Stevie. I could’ve gone to see him. I could’ve spoken to him.”

  “But like I said, he wanted to stay disappeared. He thought I’d tracked him down at first. He wasn’t happy to see me initially.”

  “Initially? So what happened when he got over it and found that you were as shocked as he was?”

  “Dillon…that’s…it’s complicated.” She sighed heavily.

  “You fucked him, didn’t you?”

  She inhaled sharply at the bitterness and choice of words. “Dillon! It’s none of your business! And there are very deep feelings between Jason and me. He still cares for me, and I for him. It’s not about sex…it’s…it’s—”

  “What, Stevie? Love? When he left you ten years ago and disappeared without saying a word?”

  “Stop it, Dillon. Stop it right now or I hang up and don’t speak to you again. You’re not in possession of all the facts. When you are, you will understand. I’m sure that now he’s here he’ll talk to you.”

  “He won’t be here. Not after today.”

  “Why? What happened today? When you saw him, how did you react?” Silence followed her question. “Dillon? What did you do?” Panic washed over her.

  “I hit him repeatedly. He deserved it. But he…he wouldn’t fight. He just let me hit him.”

  “No! No! Oh God no, Dillon. He really didn’t need it. Oh God. Where is he? Did he leave again?”

  “Ha…well for all I know, he did. It’s what he does best, after all.”

  “Dillon!” She lost her temper and shouted. “Where the hell is he? Did he say where he was going or anything? Anything at all? Tell me right now, or so help me I’ll—”

  “He said he was staying at the Sure Stay…room forty. But why do you care? He dumped you remember? He left you too!”

  “Yeah and like I said, he had good reason. And here in the real world, Dillon, shit happens. You deal with it and you move on. Some things are worth forgiving and some aren’t, and I hope very soon that you realise the difference.” She slammed the phone down and grabbed her car keys and bag. She rushed for the door and once outside, slammed it behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jason called into the pharmacy in the grounds of the hospital on his way back to his bike. He picked up gauze squares, antiseptic ointment, and painkillers along with fabric wash, toothpaste, and other things necessary to clean up after a beating. This was the first time his face had been involved, and when he caught sight of himself in the reflection of a shop window, he winced at the image staring back at him. His eye had begun to blacken and his cut lip was swollen.

  All chances of leaving as soon as possible and heading back home were now scuppered. He knew now that he would need to remain in London for the foreseeable future and deal with the fall-out from seeing his younger brother, Dillon. He would also need to help sort his father’s affairs out. A job he did not relish the thought of.

  Back at his hotel, he cleaned up his cuts and washed his face before taking a long hot shower. Once dried, he pulled on a pair of scrunched up pyjama bottoms. His leathers thankfully covered his T-shirt, and so there was no blood on it, but it needed a rinse through. Once he had washed and rinsed it, he hung it over the shower rail and examined his bruised ribs in the mirror. Dillon had certainly done him over good. His whole body ached. And he was completely drained from the encounter. He couldn’t be bothered to go through the agony of pulling on another T-shirt. Raising his arms, he had discovered, was too painful a task, that one thing was certain.

  He pulled the drapes closed and gingerly lowered himself to the bed. Sleep would be good. Sleep was healing, so they said. Unless the dreams returned. He got himself settled and had just closed his eyes when there was a knock at the door. Fuck it. Was Dillon here for round two? He groaned and rose slowly from the bed again, feeling every muscle expand and contract painfully as he moved.

  With more than a little trepidation, he opened the door a crack and peered out. Worried blue eyes stared back at him. He pulled the door wider.

  Her hands flew to her face. “Oh Jason, no!” Tears overflowed in waves from her beautiful but sad blue orbs, and she reached up to touch his face. “Look at you. I can’t believe he did this”

  He frowned at her words. “You know? How?”

  “He called me to tell me you were here. I told him that I saw you up in Scotland. He wasn’t happy and said some cruel things.”

  Anger rose within Jason, and his heart began to thunder in his chest. “Right…now I’ll fucking hit him.”

  “No…no…please…he doesn’t understand. Can I come in?”

  Jason stepped aside. “Of course, sorry, come on.” He flicked on the light, hurting his sore eyes in the process.

  “Are you…are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? Can I get you some ice from the restaurant downstairs?”

  Jason shook his head. “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse. At least there were only fists involved.” He tried to smile.

  “He said that you let him hit you. Why didn’t you defend yourself, Jason?”

  “How could I? He thinks I left out of some twisted need for attention or to cause him harm. He’s angry. He said that I killed Mum and Dad. Maybe he’s right… I spoke to Reverend Greenough, and he said that Mum was never the same after I left. Maybe she died of a broken heart, Stevie.” His voice cracked. “And I can’t hit my own brother…well, not over that. I’d hit him for upsetting you though. That’s different. What did he say to hurt you?”

  She touched the bruise just under his eye. “Never mind that. It’s really not important. I dealt with him and he apologised. Did you let him hit you because you felt you deserved it? Because if that’s the reason, you should know that you’re wrong. You didn’t deserve any of that.” She held his face in her hands. “You did what was right for you. It was what you had to do.” She caught a tear with her thumb as it trailed down his bruised cheek. “Dillon will understand when you tell him.”

  Jason shook his head. “I can’t, Stevie. I can’t tell him. How could I do that to him? It’d be like killing them all over again. I can’t replace his happy memories with that shitty mess. And who’s to say he’d even believe me? He hates me right now. Why would he trust anything I had to say?”

  She stroked his cheek. “I believe you. And so will he.”

  Jason stepped away and walked over to the bed. He sat heavily and ran a shaking hand through his damp hair. He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “Can I ask you to do something for me?”

  She gingerly stepped toward him. “Anything…what is it…what do you need?”

  “I need you…please? I just want to hold you and have you hold me back, that’s all. I just want to feel something else…something other than pain and fucking anger for just a while.”

  With a trembling lip, she switched off the overhead light, kicked off her shoes, and walked over to the bed. She climbed on and lay back, opening her arms to him. He crawled over to her, holding himself stiff due to the soreness of his body and curled into her, burying his face in her neck, pulling her as close as he could get to her. She stroked his hair and held him.

  He moved his face to rest on her chest and inhaled her scent feeling comforted by her closeness. Her embrace was the one place that made sense to him. It made sense of all the nonsensical, dramatic, crazy things in his life. He listened to her heart beating out its soothing rhythm against his cheek.

  After a while, he lifted his face to look at her. He could see her watching him in the dim light that shone into the room from the small en-suite bathroom. Beautiful.

  “What? What’s wrong?” She looked worried again.

  “I’m just feeling very sad. Today has been so hard, and the only thing that’s felt right is lying here with you. But I know that this is temporary. We want different things and to be in different places. I can’t stay here. And you can’t leave.
I just wish… I wish there was a way to make it work for us, but I’m trying so hard to accept that there isn’t one.” He rested his head down again and stroked her arm with his fingers.

  “We’ve been through all of this, Jason. Let’s not fight over it now…please.”

  She was right and Jason didn’t have the energy to fight with her over this anyway. She had made up her mind and clearly nothing he could do or say would change it. He would just take what he could get of her whilst he was here. Not in a selfish, demanding way. No…only what she was prepared to give him. And right now, her time and her comfort were all he needed.

  ****

  Stevie lay there enjoying the familiar feeling of Jason cuddled up to her. It was reminiscent of so many times they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms as teens. The pleasant sensation of his weight half atop her body was new but felt good nonetheless. It brought back bittersweet memories of her visit to Scotland.

  He was such a strong man, physically, but he had such a tender, damaged heart. The trouble was she had already fallen again. It happened all those weeks ago when she saw him for the first time in ten years. She’d tried to keep her fragile heart intact, but it was a futile exercise.

  Jason was her first love, her only love if the truth was told. Being with him was the most natural thing ever, like breathing in and out. There was little conscious effort involved. It just happened and it felt right. But therein lay the problem. They lived completely different lives now. Over five hundred miles apart. And he still wouldn’t fight for her. Not really. Not that she expected a knight in shining armour or any such fairy-tale crap. No. She just wanted a real man with real feelings, who she knew belonged to her, forever and always, a man who wouldn’t just give up. Jason had been that man once. But he had also given up once.

  The sad part to all of this was that she knew that she would never feel about another man the way she did about Jason. She had been ruined in that way. Although they had lost so many years, they still had the connection that made them two halves of the same soul. She could find a handsome man, a kind man, a man who adored her. But none of that would matter one single bit.