Briar Valley: The Complete Duet

11. Zach

CHAPTER 11

ZACH

FLAWS - BASTILLE

“Let me get this straight.”

“Again, Zach?” Killian moans.

I take a swig of beer. “I’m just curious how this situation came about. You are infamously the most unsociable person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, cuz.”

Killian’s scowl would set whole fields of crops alight. “You know, I’m sure Lola would understand if I murdered you after Ryder and buried your body in the allotment.”

“Me and Ryder in one day, huh?”

“Sounds like a fucking dream to me.”

“You’re really stocking up on good fertiliser for the summer.”

“Quality annoying asshole fertiliser, sure.” He flicks off the kitchen tap, soaking dirty dishes in water. “I could sell it in town and make a hell of a profit.”

“You’re a bit sadistic, you know?”

Killian takes a pull from his own beer. We’re working together in the kitchen to roast one of the chickens from the town’s coop that he shot last night, while the potatoes and vegetables roast in the oven.

“Noted,” he submits.

I’m not much of a cook. Killian has always kept us fed, clothed and well looked after, ever since our aunt and uncle passed away. Nobody asked him to, but he took me and Micah under his wing and never turned his back on us, death threats aside.

Killian lost both of his parents that day and gained the responsibility of two young boys who needed someone to look up to. He didn’t even stop to grieve before getting to work. That’s just who he is. I still remember it clearly.

“Gravy,” he realises.

“Make extra. You know it’s my favourite.”

“Yeah, I know. You and Micah drink it like water.”

Returning to his place of power at the overflowing oven top, Killian focuses on mixing gravy granules with boiling water and loading it into a saucepan. This would be so much easier if Grams was cooking. She’s much better than us at it.

“You think he’ll make an appearance tonight?”

Killian looks up. “Micah?”

I nod back.

“I dunno, kid.” He stirs his gravy with a shrug. “He’s retreated back into his studio this week. I spoke to Doctor Holmes. She’s happy to take him on as a client again.”

“We just have to convince him to go there.”

“Basically.”

Grabbing plates, cutlery and hand-sewn napkins that Lola made for us last Christmas, I lay the table. We rarely sit here to eat dinner, usually preferring the sofa or outside in the summer. Entertaining guests is an even rarer occurrence.

None of us have much luck convincing my brother to do anything, let alone speaking to a therapist he has no interest in working with. He lives on his own plane of existence, far from our reach. Not even I can get through to him.

“Maybe Lola could talk him around?” I suggest hopefully.

“Don’t get your hopes up. He won’t speak to anyone.”

A timid knock at the front door interrupts our conversation. Both of our gazes immediately zip there, and the tension in the room explodes. Killian would never admit it, but I can see that he’s nervous. This dinner was his idea.

I have never seen my cousin date or even show a remote interest in women. He’s always been content to devote his life to the town and nothing else. That’s why the offer of dinner with Willow nearly caused me to fall over when he told me.

“I’ll get it, shall I?” I glance around the open-plan living room and kitchen. “This place is a mess, Kill.”

“We’re guys,” he argues. “She’ll understand.”

“Lola would kill us both if she saw this bomb site.”

“I’m not your mother. Clean your own crap up. Don’t I do enough around here?”

Rolling my eyes at him, I smooth my unbuttoned, loose blue shirt and jeans, throwing the door open before I can chicken out. A blur of blonde hair rushes straight at me. I stumble back to catch Arianna before she bowls me over.

“Zach!”

“Hey, squirt.”

She clings to me like a spider monkey, using her weight to force me to crouch down so she can press her lips to my cheek. “I missed you.”

I brush a stubbly kiss against her skin in return. “Missed you too, Ari. Go and attack Killian now. Make sure to smother him in kisses.”

Placing her back on her little feet, I watch as she launches herself at the giant in the kitchen next. He barely hesitates before picking her up. I swear, this alien parasite living inside my cousin’s body is really starting to freak me out.

“Killian!”

“Peanut,” he greets. “What did I tell you about running everywhere?”

“That I should always be ready to throw a punch to go with it?”

“Kill.” I gape at him.

“That’s my girl.” He tucks hair behind her ear, clearly proud of himself. “Go on, make yourself at home. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Standing in the doorway, Willow is silent. I drink her in, from her slightly curling, midnight black hair that contrasts the olive-toned shine of her skin, to the light yellow dress she’s wearing that I recognise from Miranda’s wardrobe.

Her body begs to be touched from the rounded curves of her hips and to the sharp angles that carve her breathtakingly beautiful face. She’s full-chested and fills her clothing in all the right places. Fuck. I’m staring now.

“Willow! Come in.”

Her eyes dart up to mine. “Zach… thanks for the invite.”

Disregarding the palpable tension, I engulf her in a hug, only remembering her injuries when she squeaks in pain.

“Sorry,” I quickly blurt.

“It’s okay. How was your day?”

“Better for seeing you.”

I ignore Killian’s exasperated scoff.

“Oh.” Willow’s cheeks blush pink. “Well, I’m happy to see you guys too.”

Patting my arm, she walks past me and spares Killian an awkward smile of greeting. He nods back, hiding behind the safety of the oven and various bubbling saucepans. Touchy-feely isn’t really his style, though I’m beginning to doubt that too.

“Wow,” Willow exclaims.

She’s looking around our home in awe. Killian and his father built the cabin with the intention of us all living together when we were older, leaving them to retire in peace. Having three boys in the house was loud and messy, but Aunt Lorelei loved it.

She doted on us like we were her own kids, especially after our dad died of cancer. It’s no wonder where Killian got his big heart from, though he has his father’s steely exterior and high standards.

Our cabin is smaller than Lola’s modern monstrosity, but it’s still a monolith of glossy mahogany, exposed steel support beams and huge windows that stretch all the way up to the ceiling, revealing unfettered views of the surrounding forest and mountains.

We added a massive dark leather corner sofa that could fit a whole family, and a flat screen television that takes up an entire wall. Killian loves shooting zombies when he runs out of wooden logs to smash to pieces.

For a while, Micah joined our video game nights. That hasn’t happened for a long time. Willow turns in a circle to take it all in, running her fingertips over granite surfaces and plaid cushions that soften the admittedly masculine furniture.

“Your home is beautiful.”

“We used to live in the empty cabin across the road.” I grab three fresh beers from the fridge. “That was before Killian and his old man built this place for us.”

“How long did that take?”

“Four years or so. It was an ongoing project while we grew up.”

She accepts the beer. “Thanks. You’re very talented, Kill.”

Still hiding behind the breakfast bar that separates the two rooms, Killian’s nostrils flare as he struggles to accept the compliment. He actually looks a little shy. Fuck me sideways. Willow is bringing out a whole other person inside my cousin.

“My parents were some of Briar Valley’s original residents,” he explains, still stirring his gravy. “They knew how to build something to last. We designed this place together.”

“So that’s your aunt and uncle?” she asks me.

“Yeah. Micah and I moved to Briar Valley when we were kids after our dad died.” I fill in the gaps. “Years passed, and we never left.”

“This must have been a great place to grow up.”

“We were home-schooled by Pops and spent most of our time playing on dirt bikes or pissing Lola off when we trashed her flower beds.”

“ You trashed her flower beds,” Killian corrects.

“He never went long without getting grounded.” I gesture towards the scowling asshole. “Always getting in trouble.”

“Only because you were a little rat,” he accuses. “And a fucking loudmouth.”

I flip him off. “Not my fault you got caught the most.”

“Pops?” Willow smothers a laugh.

“Your grandad,” I clarify. “He taught all the kids around here and kept us out of trouble. It hasn’t been the same around here since he died. The whole town loved him.”

She fixes her gaze out of the window at the steadily falling rain. Shooting me a death look, Killian gestures for me to do something about the smile disappearing from her face. I didn’t mean to upset her.

“Zach?” Arianna breaks the silence. “Can I watch a movie?”

Her eyes are glued to the huge TV screen as she flops onto the sofa, its huge size dwarfing her sheer tininess. Grateful for the distraction, I grab the remote.

“Sure, squirt. Whatcha fancy?”

“I like animals and princesses.”

“Who’s your favourite?” I wink at her.

Her mouth falls open. “You can’t make me pick!”

Chuckling at the outrage on her face, I grab a blanket and wrap it around her shoulders. Her eyes have turned into giant saucers as the movie begins, dappling bright colours into the room.

Willow fusses over Arianna for a moment, ruffling her hair before joining us back in the kitchen. The tense moment has passed, and she’s wearing another carefully constructed smile. I doubt she realises that I can tell the difference.

“Need help with anything?”

“It’s all under control,” Killian says as his timer goes off. “Well, unless you want to help serve. I can’t do fancy presentation or shit like that.”

“Sure. Where do you want me?”

I watch them work in comfortable silence as they load up five plates with food, dancing around each other with a weird kind of ease. I’ve never seen Killian so relaxed around someone else. He can be a moody bastard, even around us.

Something about Willow brings out the calmer part of him that longs to have the warmth of a family again. It’s been years since we’ve had dinner like this. When we were kids, we gathered around the table every single night, without fail.

“Ari,” Willow calls. “Go wash your hands.”

“But Mummy, the movie!”

“It will still be there afterwards.”

Moodily stabbing the pause button, Arianna disappears to wash her hands. When she returns, Willow sets her up in the corner seat and tucks her chair in. She takes the next place, watching us both as we find our own chairs.

Killian naturally finds his way to the head of the table, deliberately ignoring the empty space at the centre of us all. None of us expected Micah to accept the dinner invite I delivered. He was on his way out of the front door at the time.

With everyone settled in, we begin to eat. Killian carves the chicken into neat portions and dishes it out while I pass around the dish of veggies and roast potatoes. There’s enough food for a small army, but I’m sure he’ll demolish it all.

“Thank you both.” Willow looks between us. “This is amazing.”

“Nothing beats a home cooked meal.” I steal the salt and pepper straight from Killian’s hands. “Anyone want gravy?”

Killian flips me off. “You go last, kid.”

“What does that mean?” Arianna lifts her middle finger, mirroring Killian’s move.

He looks horrified. “Ah, shit.”

“Language,” I chastise.

Laughing around a mouthful of beer, Willow nudges Arianna to encourage her to drop her middle finger and eat instead. Killian’s ears are still burning as he dives into his plate, stuffing down mouthfuls of food to escape his faux pas.

“We never had food like this at home,” Arianna says. “I want to stay here forever!”

Killian watches with pride as she drowns her roast potatoes in an unholy amount of gravy. Next time he restricts my consumption, I’m going to put on an Arianna pout for him. The little devil has clearly mastered the Killian code.

“That’s enough,” Willow scolds. “Eat your food.”

“But it’s so tasty!”

“That doesn’t mean you can eat it all.”

“Sorry, Mummy.”

We eat in companionable silence, broken by the sound of knives scraping and Arianna loudly chomping on a chicken leg. Willow mostly pushes the food around the plate, even when Killian glares at her in warning.

She disregards his scowling face completely. Fuck me, it’s the most hilarious to watch. He’s not used to being overruled in this house. As I open my mouth to crack a joke that will piss him off even more, there’s a creak from outside the front door.

Killian stands up so fast, his cutlery clatters loudly against his plate. Startled by the loud noise, Willow flinches and immediately grabs hold of her daughter.

“Mummy!” Arianna complains. “I’m eating.”

Then the front door cracks open, and everyone relaxes. A thick headful of messy hair held back by a pencil hangs over Micah’s paint-splattered face. He’s dressed in his usual painting clothes, a pair of ratty grey jeans and oversized t-shirt stained different colours.

“I’m late,” Micah says without looking up.

“No problem.” Killian quickly recovers, forcing himself to use a patient tone. “This is Willow and Arianna. They’re eating with us tonight.”

Freezing while washing his hands, Micah casts a nervous look over his shoulder. “We’ve met. Good to, erm… see you again.”

Christ on a cracker, he could win awards for awkwardness. My twin is a social pariah and certified textbook introvert. While he’s a hell of an artist, perhaps even more talented than he realises, he won’t win any medals for conversation.

“You’ve met?” Killian looks at them both.

Willow anxiously plays with her hair. “Briefly. I thought he was Zach, to be honest.”

“It happens a lot.” I wink at her, loving the way she blushes bright pink again just for me. “I’m the better looking twin, obviously, and I’m older than him.”

“By three and a half minutes,” Micah corrects.

“Still counts, Mi.”

Sliding into his empty chair, Micah keeps his head lowered and eyes averted. Arianna is giving him a fierce stare as she tries to figure him out. His jaw ticks, and after several loaded seconds, he finds the courage to look up and meet her eyes.

“You’re covered in paint,” she points out.

Micah swallows hard. “I was varnishing something.”

“Is that why you’re late? It’s rude, you know.”

Killian nearly chokes on his mouthful of food, and he has to take a deep pull of beer. Staring at her daughter like she’s an alien from another planet, Willow looks stunned by the little ballbreaker’s sharp comment.

“Something like that.” Micah clears his throat. “Sorry for being rude.”

Arianna doesn’t let up. “And what is varnishing?”

I half expect him to jump up and run for the fucking hills. One-on-one conversation is never a good way to approach Micah when he does grant us with his presence. Swallowing hard, he briefly looks at Arianna.

“It’s when you seal something with clear paint to preserve it.”

Her nose wrinkles. “Preserving?”

“So it lasts longer and can be displayed.”

“Enough with the interrogating, Ari,” Willow snaps at her. “Let the poor man eat his dinner and worry about your own plate, okay?”

“I was just asking,” she defends.

“It’s fine, really,” Micah replies in a rush. “I make… sculptures. Out of wood and stuff. I paint as well. It’s kind of a business, so people buy them from me.”

That’s one way of explaining his borderline-neurotic art business that earns more money than he’d admit. Micah’s intense mood swings and unstable mental health are conducive to one thing, and that’s creating stunning pieces of art.

“Can I see?” Arianna smiles broadly.

“Uh.”

“Please?” She bats her lashes.

Micah splutters before answering. “Sure, I guess.”

Fist pumping the air, Arianna dives back into her dinner with gusto now she’s won the argument. Taking a breath, Micah helps himself to some food, but not before I catch sight of something odd happening to his mouth.

I think… it’s a smile.

Fucking hell.

Killian stares in shock until I give him a pointed look. He refocuses on his plate, fighting a small smile himself. Neither of us have seen my twin brother do that for a very long time. What Arianna just achieved is a fucking miracle.