Ryan (O'Connor Brothers Book 2)

by A. S. Kelly

  “So, kid. The kitchen?” Ian turns to Evan.

  “This way, mate. I hope you’ve brought ingredients with you, because we don’t have a fucking thing.”

  “Evan!” Christine cries.

  “I have some bags in the car, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand.”

  Ian and Evan go outside to grab what I presume will be supermarket bags full of shopping. Nick turns to me and says: “I stopped by your house and picked up some stuff for you, in case you were planning on staying here for a while.”

  I nod.

  “Good, so everyone’s here,” Christine says.

  “You’re lucky Mum and Dad didn’t tag along too – I almost had to tie them to the sofa.”

  “I can imagine,” Riley smiles.

  “Here we go,” Ian and Evan come back into the room, laden with shopping bags.

  “That looks like more than enough for one dinner,” Christine comments.

  “Well, we held back,” Ian says, grinning, before heading into the kitchen with Evan at his heels.

  “What should we do?” Christine asks.

  “You’d better go and get dressed.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Or I’ll have to break Nick’s nose if he keeps staring at you.”

  “What? I wasn’t looking at anything!”

  “Oh please, don’t kid yourself.”

  “So what if I was? She has nice legs – what’s wrong with admiring?”

  I shoot him a glare.

  “What’s wrong is that you’re looking at my girlfriend,” I snarl.

  “Oh, for…”

  “Don’t start,” I say, pointing my finger at him.

  He mimes zipping his mouth shut.

  “Hey,” Ian pokes his head into the living room. “Cut it out, guys. You’re giving me a headache.”

  Christine laughs, perfectly comfortable being dropped into the middle of the O’Connor chaos. She isn’t shocked at all by the ridiculous scene playing out in front of her; it would freak anyone out, but not her.

  I look at my brothers: always the same overbearing dickheads. But they’re genuine, thoughtful. I look at Riley, ready to pop any minute, but whose beauty could light up a whole city. I look at Evan, who takes everything in his stride, even more than he himself expects. And then I look at her. Her full smile, her round face sprinkled with sexy freckles, her flame-red hair which is sticking up from all angles. The way she is, with other people and with herself: so wonderfully real.

  I look around at all these people, together, and myself in between them, and realise that, for once, I’m not pissed off with the world. I don’t want to run as far as possible. I feel the chasm in my chest start to dwindle, see something rise from the ashes, casting its light once again over my life.

  And, for the first time in years, I can feel that part of me – the one I thought I’d buried forever – claw its way back to the light, pushing aside the hate and the pain, feeding from a supernatural force that I don’t even recognise: but it tastes like hope.

  “So you weren’t the only victim?” Ian asks.

  Christine told us everything the police had said. She was actually one of a handful of victims in a series of attacks through different cafés in town. It looks like the guy also broke into a few houses, maybe hoping to find something more valuable. So, they’re not just dirty thieves: they’re also fucking vandals who seem to enjoy destroying everything they can.

  “The whole neighbourhood’s worried. A few streets are even organising night watches.”

  “But you have a burglar alarm, right? The house is safe?” Nick asks, concerned.

  “Of course. Not that there’s much to steal here – they’ve already taken everything they can from me,” she adds sadly.

  The conversation turns to a more cheerful topic: everyone noticed that Christine didn’t want to talk about it, and tried to shift the attention elsewhere to distract her.

  “Is everything okay?” I lean in towards her, as she sits on the sofa, her untouched plate resting on her lap.

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Ian won’t be offended,” I smile, taking the plate from her hands. “Maybe they shouldn’t have just turned up like this, and invaded your privacy…”

  “Are you kidding? I haven’t spent an evening like this since…well, I never spend any evenings like this, really.”

  “It’s not…too much?”

  She looks at me, her head tilted to one side.

  “It’s not too fast, too…strange?”

  She sighs. “I don’t know – but I know that I like it.”

  I smile suddenly.

  “Come on, let’s get you home,” Ian says, helping Riley to her feet, “Or you’ll fall asleep here on Chris’ sofa.”

  “Sorry, Chris. I’m always so tired at the moment.”

  “I understand, I fell asleep everywhere when I was pregnant with Evan. Once I actually fell asleep on the bus, and woke up at the airport.”

  “Why does that not surprise me,” Evan comments sarcastically, and his mother slaps him around the back of the head.

  Riley and Ian hug Chris, who thanks them for coming as they head towards the front door. Nick gets up and comes over to us.

  “Are you sure I can leave you alone with him?” he asks Christine.

  “I’ll be here too,” Evan cuts in.

  “You’re right, sorry. Can I leave you with these two? Because, you know, Ryan could have a terrible influence on this kid.”

  “I’ll try to keep them in line.”

  Nick hugs Christine, sending a blaze of fury through my body.

  “I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” he says to me, before joining Ian and Riley at the door.

  My brothers leave, and we’re left alone.

  The three of us.

  The overwhelming instinct to run and find a paper bag hits me immediately.

  “I’ll start clearing up,” Evan says, collecting the plates from the coffee table.

  “I’ll give you a hand.”

  I help him take everything through to the kitchen, putting the leftovers in the fridge and loading the dishwasher, as I hear the sound of the TV floating in from the living room.

  Evan comes up to me and whispers: “She’ll be okay, won’t she?”

  I look at this boy, trying so hard to be a man for his mother: but inside, I can see he’s shaking with fear. I grab his shoulders and give them a squeeze.

  “She’ll be okay,” I say, trying to act surer than I really am.

  “I know that she’s tough, but this…the café is everything to her. And now it’s…”

  “We’ll sort everything out.”

  “I was so scared,” he says, his eyes wide. “You don’t know what it’s like to find your mum unconscious, on the floor, in a pool of blood. I thought that she was…”

  “You’ve been really brave, Evan. You were amazing.”

  “I didn’t know who to call, I panicked.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  “I tried to call my dad, but I always just get hold of his secretary instead and…”

  “Call me. For anything, okay? Always call me.”

  Evan nods, and turns towards the living room.

  “I think she’s fallen asleep.”

  We tiptoe towards the sofa, where Christine is sleeping.

  “I’ll go and get a blanket from her room,” Evan says.

  “No, wait,” I stop him. “I’ll carry her upstairs. She’ll be comfier up there.”

  He looks at me suspiciously.

  “Don’t make that face. I’m not going to try anything.”

  “You’d better not. My room is right across the hallway from hers.”

  I smile. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  “You’ll take care of her then?”

  “I’ll take care of her. Go and get some rest, you must be exhausted.”

  Evan heads towards the stairs. I pick up the remote and turn off the TV, before turning to look at he
r again. I take a deep breath and lift her off the sofa, away from her chaos and her fear and drop her, unexpectedly, into my life.

  I hold her close to me, hugging her against my chest. I take the stairs one at a time, and push her bedroom door open with my shoulder, laying her down on the bed. I sit down next to her and watch her sleep, letting this wave of newfound emotion lap over me, shocking me, but putting everything right. I let it shake me then calm me down all at once.

  I lie down and pull her in to me. Her tiny frame fits mine perfectly, as if someone had sculpted her just for me, for this exact moment, so tender and intimate. Something I ran away from, that terrified me, but something that seems to me now like the only thing that makes sense in my life.

  I breathe in the scent of her hair, and immediately I feel safe, at home. I snake my arm around her waist, never moving her away from me for fear that she’ll run away again, leave me without a roof over my head. Without a reason to go on.

  I think about what I said to her, what I did. I think about her reaction, and the pain that I felt settle itself around me the moment I realised that I’d ruined everything before it could even begin. And that fear comes back, invading my body and my mind, holding me hostage.

  The fear that she’ll realise that I’m not who she thinks I am, that I’m not the right man for her. That I’m still not a man. That I don’t fit in here, with them, in this house.

  She could realise at any moment that Ryan O’Connor is nothing but a little boy who can’t grow up and just leave the past behind him. Someone who can’t look past the pain and see positivity, trust.

  I’m damaged goods; and she’s a beautiful dream that I know will really fucking hurt. Because the best dreams are the ones that make you crumble, leaving you devastated when you’re forced to wake up.

  65

  Chris

  The smell of coffee fills my nostrils, waking me gently from my sleep. I open my eyes to find a mug waving under my nose, and look up to see Ryan O’Connor’s heart-wrenching smile. I think this is the best wake-up call I’ve ever had.

  “Good morning,” he says, pushing the cup towards my face. “Coffee?”

  I lift myself up and lean my back against the pillows.

  “You do know how to make a woman happy.”

  He laughs, showing off a row of perfectly pearly white teeth.

  I take the mug from him and take a few sips.

  “What time is it?”

  “Half past nine.”

  “Oh God,” I say, jumping up, almost throwing coffee all over myself. “Evan has school…”

  “All good. I took care of it.”

  I look at him, confused.

  “I made him breakfast, took him to school and gave him some money for lunch.”

  “You?”

  He shrugs.

  Okay. I didn’t want to have this conversation first thing in the morning, without any caffeine in my system, but I need to set something straight. Right now.

  “Look, I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I just don’t think it’s…right.”

  “What am I trying to do?”

  “I don’t know, to redeem yourself, make up for everything…”

  “No, Christine. I’m not trying to make up for anything. I’m trying to start something.”

  “Something…?”

  “I don’t know what to call it. I don’t really want to give it a name yet.”

  “Maybe you should, though.”

  “Can’t you just accept it for what it is?”

  “Not unless I know what I’m signing up to.”

  “You’re a difficult woman, Christine Morgan.”

  “You’re not exactly a walk in the park yourself.”

  “I imagine you’re right.”

  “I’m always right.”

  “Let’s not get carried away, now.”

  I smile, taking another sip of my coffee.

  “Come on, get up and come downstairs. They’re waiting for us.”

  “Who?”

  “My family. They’re all in your living room.”

  I almost spit my mouthful of coffee into his face.

  “Get used to it. The O’Connors never give in.”

  When I get downstairs, I find that my living room has been literally taken over by O’Connors.

  Mrs O’Connor is sitting on my sofa, bent over the coffee table. She has her glasses on, and is surrounded by documents and pieces of paper – I have no idea where she’s found them. Mr O’Connor and Nick are deep in conversation in the doorway. Riley is chatting to Ryan, sitting on my armchair with him perched on the arm. The smell of coffee still wafts around the room, mixed with something else that instantly makes my stomach growl.

  “Good morning, dear,” Mrs O’Connor is the first to notice me. She gets up and comes over to me, taking me affectionately into her arms. “I’m so happy to see you’re okay.”

  “Th-thank you,” I babble, confused.

  “I hope we’re not intruding.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re looking through the insurance documents, doing some research. We’ll find a solution,” Nick says, determinedly. “Evan gave us a pile of papers to look through – I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to go rummaging through your stuff, but we have to act pretty fast.”

  Mrs O’Connor takes my hand and sits me down on the sofa. “There are some muffins and an apple pie in the kitchen – or we can get you something else, if you fancy?”

  “A muffin would be perfect.”

  “I’ll go and get one for you.”

  As she heads into the kitchen, Ryan comes and sits down next to me.

  “Are you angry?” he asks, worried.

  “I don’t know – should I be?” I look at him.

  “I didn’t want them all to just turn up here like this, but Nick told them all everything. You have no idea what he’s like, he can’t keep a fucking thing to…”

  “Hey! I can hear you, you know!” Nick interjects, pretending to be pissed off.

  “Mum made a few calls then decided to come here to see what she could do.”

  “Your insurance only covers you for theft and fire damage, dear, but the rest…” Mrs O’Connor comes back into the room.

  I chew my lip, nervously.

  I already knew that. I was the one who signed that damn insurance form, cutting back the café’s budget so that I could start to save up for Evan to go to university.

  “You can get back the money for everything that was stolen, and hopefully that won’t take too long…”

  “I’m screwed, right?”

  Mrs O’Connor smiles kindly at me.

  “There’s always a way. And we’ll help you find it.”

  “W-we?” I ask, panicking now.

  Ryan squeezes my hand, then turns to me and flashes me one of his dazzling smiles.

  “All of us.”

  That afternoon, we go to pick up Evan from school, and then we head over to the café. Ryan parks on the street outside and we get out of the car, walking to the entrance. I look through the glass to see my colleagues, working away to clear away the worst of the wreckage.

  I go in, confused, and Vic comes straight over to me, throwing her arms around my neck.

  “Oh my God Chris. I am so sorry, it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t just walked off like that, if I hadn’t left you alone…”

  I pull away from her.

  “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m such a bad friend.”

  “And I shouldn’t have hurt you like that. I’m sorry.”

  “You were right, though – I’m exactly like you said, and I honestly have no idea how you put up with me.”

  I smile at her. “We put up with each other – that’s the secret to our friendship.”

  “We’re here to give you a hand. Ryan called us.”

  “R-Ryan?”

  “Don’t let this one get away, honey,” she whisp
ers to me, before getting back to work.

  I walk slowly around the café, trying to take in just how much damage was done, as Ryan, Nick and Evan are in the back, working out whether anything can still be used.

  It’s a strange situation. I’m not used to all these people helping me, involving themselves in my life just to give me a hand. I can’t be annoyed, can’t tell them all to mind their own business. It’s terrifyingly reassuring, having someone who wants to help you, who stands by you when you’re too tired and run-down to stand on your own two feet. I don’t know the O’Connors all that well – to be honest, I don’t really know much at all about Ryan – but it’s easy to see that they’re wonderful people, united and ready to help anyone who needs it. And, this time, I wouldn’t know what to do on my own. I run this place – at least, I try my best – but I’ve always been rubbish with paperwork. And now I’m paying the price for it.

  When I can’t take it anymore, we all head home. Ryan drops Nick off at his apartment, then we all go back to mine.

  I get out of the car and open the front door, Evan shooting past me inside.

  “I’ll grab some leftovers from the fridge and eat them in my room. I have homework due tomorrow.”

  I let myself fall onto the sofa, exhausted, as I hear Ryan shuffling about in the kitchen.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten out of a Tupperware, but after eating straight out of a casserole dish, I think I want to give it a go.”

  He sits down next to me on the sofa, passing me a plastic container of leftovers, two forks resting on top.

  “How do you feel?” he asks gingerly.

  “Tired. Shocked.”

  “My mum says that there’s something that can be done, we just have to wait a few weeks. Luckily, she found a clause in the insurance form about acts of vandalism. You know, the small print that no one ever notices – nothing gets past her. You’ll be able to get back almost everything.”

  “Your mother is terrifying.”

  “Sometimes. Don’t be fooled by her sweetness – she can be a real badass when she wants to be.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just tell me you’re not angry?”

  “Why would I be?”