Quiet Longing (Quiet Love #2)

2.

Rhys

She was gorgeous.

When Tristan and Derek told me their American cousin was coming to stay for the summer, I certainly hadn’t been expecting her . Or her accent, all low and sultry. I had a hard time keeping my blood from flowing a certain direction.

“What are you doing skulking in and out?” Aidan asked when I returned to the pool room.

“Uh, the girl, Charli. She was out there looking for water, so I got her some from the mini-fridge.”

Aidan shared a look with Derek and grinned. “Uh oh. I think Rhys has the hots for your cousin.”

“I was being helpful,” I muttered and went to sit down. Aidan could be an annoying prick at times.

“Leave him alone,” Derek said. “Though, I will warn you all to keep your paws off her this summer. She didn’t come here to have you lot slobbering all over her.”

“I’ll have you know I never slobber,” Aidan retorted. “Though, saying that, she does have a very nice pair of—”

Derek lifted his pool cue like he might knock Aidan on the head with it. “Don’t finish that sentence, lad.”

“What? I was just going to say she has a lovely pair of eyes . Besides, you have nothing to worry about. She’s a little on the chunky side for my taste.”

As soon as he said it, I wanted to defend her because Charli wasn’t chunky. She was curvy in a way that made my blood heat. Besides, I knew how it felt to be judged for your weight. Ever since I hit puberty, I’d piled on the pounds and hadn’t been able to shift them since, so I knew what it was like to be called fat by the likes of Aidan.

“Hey, fuck you, Aidan,” Tristan spoke up for his cousin, and I was glad he did because that meant I didn’t have to. “You’re only calling her chunky because she barely spared you a second glance. If she had, you’d be writing sonnets about her curves.”

Aidan scoffed. “If I’d wanted a second glance, I could’ve gotten one.”

Theo chuckled. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Listen, you can all stop talking about Charli right now,” Derek said. “My parents brought her here so Nuala could have a friend for the summer. You know she’s been struggling lately.”

“Are those girls from her school still being arseholes?” Theo asked, concerned. We all knew he had a thing for Nuala though he’d never admit it.

“Yep. Nuala walked in on this one girl, Kiera, puking her guts up into the toilet. Bulimia, most likely. Nuala promised she wouldn’t tell anyone, and she didn’t, but Kiera’s decided to turn the entire friend group against her just in case.”

“Poor Nuala.”

“At least she has Charli for the summer,” Derek said. “The two of them have been emailing back and forth for weeks, and Nuala’s been in a much better mood ever since.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Anyway, my point is, Charli’s off limits. Got it?”

We all made noises of agreement. Not that I had a shot with her even if she wasn’t off limits. Girls never looked at me. Maybe it was my own fault for hanging out with a bunch of good looking bastards like these four. A bloke like me didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t even know what it felt like to have a girl look at me and show attraction. If it ever happened, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell.

About a half an hour later, we called it a night. It took me about fifteen minutes to walk home, but I managed to stretch it to twenty by going the long way. I tried to keep out of the house for as many hours as possible. Mainly because of my dad. Mam kicked him out last year, but she’d recently taken him back. She always took him back.

My gut twisted when I neared the front door and heard shouting. Dad was roaring his head off, and Mam’s tearful, frightened responses made my jaw clench. I was about to slot my key in the door when it flew open, and Dad emerged, his face red with fury.

“Get out of my bloody way!” he fumed, shoving past me before stomping away from the house. I stood there, my entire body tense, hating how I feared him. I was big now, practically the same height as him, but it wasn’t his size that intimidated me. There was something uncontrollable in my father; an unpredictability that was terrifying. When you walked into a room and he was there, you never knew what kind of reception you were going to get.

I hurried inside and found Mam on the kitchen floor, weeping.

“Mam,” I breathed, lowering to kneel before her and trying to keep the fury out of my voice. The last thing she needed was more anger. My father’s was already more than she could bear.

She sniffed and wiped at her teary eyes. Her hand left her cheek, and every muscle in my body tensed with rage when I saw the bloodied cut. Dad hadn’t hit her since he moved back in. She’d been convinced he’d turned over a new leaf, but I knew better.

Normally, I was home and could get in his way, let him hurt me instead of her. But it was Thursday. He normally spent Thursday nights at the pub and didn’t get home until the early hours of the morning. I’d thought it was safe to stay out for a while, but I’d been wrong.

“He … he just snapped. I don’t know why.”

I held back all the swear words I wanted to let rip and instead spoke evenly, “He’ll never change, Mam. We need to get you out of here. I’m going to take you to Aunt Claire’s—”

“No!” she begged, her voice desperate. “I can’t let anyone see me like this.”

“Yes, you can. If you tell Claire what Dad’s really like, your sister will let you stay with her. She’ll keep you safe until we can figure something out.”

“I can’t, Rhys. You don’t understand.” She was shaking her head as she stood and walked to the other side of the kitchen.

“I understand, Mam. I live here, too, but I know that life can be so much better than this. When he was gone this past year, things were easier,” I said, holding in the urge to add, You never should’ve taken him back. A comment like that wouldn’t help.

She didn’t respond as she stopped at the sink then turned the tap on and frantically began washing her hands. I watched her, struggling for a way to convince her to leave. If I could at least get her out of here for one night then maybe getting her to leave Dad for good this time would be easier.

There was a small mirror on the windowsill. I saw the moment she caught sight of herself, and her shoulders slumped forward before quiet weeping ensued. I hurried to her, turning off the tap and grabbing a dish cloth to dry her hands. She turned in my arms, still weeping, and I held her tight. She was a small woman. I didn’t understand how a man my father’s size could ever harm someone so much weaker. I was a big lad, but it was never in my nature to hurt others, especially not anyone smaller.

As I stood there, holding Mam, my thoughts returned to earlier in the night. My encounter with Charli. I’d seen that bruise on her forehead, and my mind had instantly gone to a dark place. I hated how Dad had shaped me this way, to always suspect the worst. People got cuts and bruises all the time through small accidents and mishaps, but my first instinct was to assume an injury happened violently.

“I don’t know what to do,” Mam said.

“You don’t have to know yet. Just let me take you to Aunt Claire’s. We’ll figure out the rest later. What’s important right now is getting you out of here.”

“If he comes home and finds us missing, he’ll be even worse.”

“You let me worry about that.”

No more fight left in her, my mother acceded and let me pack her a small bag to take to my aunt’s house. Mam was quivering the entire drive there. I’d taken her keys because she was in no fit state to drive. It felt strange to be enacting a plan I’d plotted in my head hundreds of times. Every time Dad hit one or both of us, my brain would frantically try to figure how to get away from him.

One idea was to simply change the locks and dump his stuff on the front lawn. Our house belonged solely to my mother since she’d inherited it from her grandparents. That was something that always stuck in Dad’s craw, too, that the house wasn’t his. If Mam died, it would go to him as her husband, but I was determined never to let that happen.

Mam would outlive that prick. I’d make sure of it.

I called ahead to let Aunt Claire know we were coming over. I told her Mam and Dad had gotten into a fight though I didn’t give specifics. She was a smart woman. She’d figure it out when she saw Mam’s face. I was pretty sure she suspected my father’s behaviour over the years, especially when we had random injuries we couldn’t easily explain. But Mam was so full of shame, so secretive about the whole thing. If Aunt Claire ever tried to gently broach the subject, she’d pretend everything was perfectly fine.

She’d never tell another living soul what Dad was really like, not even when she broke up with him last year, but all that was going to change starting tonight. We couldn’t let things go on like this any longer, couldn’t keep living this way.

I helped Mam from the car and grabbed her bag. Claire appeared in the door only seconds after I knocked, her eyes travelling over Mam’s bruised, wounded face.

“That bastard!” she whispered furiously before throwing her arm around Mam’s shoulders and ushering her inside. My Uncle Eugene appeared then. He was a short, kindly man with greying dark brown hair. I couldn’t imagine him ever getting angry, never mind angry enough to raise a hand to his wife or children. My cousins, Shay and Ross, didn’t know how lucky they were to have a father like him. Eugene would go to the ends of the earth to keep his kids safe, and I admired him greatly for that. He was more of a father figure to me than my own dad ever was.

Mam and Claire went into the kitchen, with Claire gently shutting the door so they could talk privately. Eugene’s eyes came to me, his tone cautious.

“Did your father do that, son?” he asked, his expression flat. I wondered if he was trying to keep his shock or anger at bay for my sake.

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. It was difficult to speak about something I’d learned to keep unspoken for such a long time.

“And you. Has he ever—"

“I’m fine,” I said, not wanting to speak about how my mother wasn’t Dad’s only victim. “I just want Mam to be safe. Can she stay here with you for a few days until I figure something out?”

“You and your mother can stay with us for as long as you need. Don’t you worry about that. I want to know if you’re okay. It can’t have been easy, finding her like that.”

“It wasn’t the first time,” I replied, my voice low, and Eugene’s eyes flashed in understanding then anger and, at last, empathy. He shocked me when he pulled me into a hug. I was much larger than him, but inside, I felt small. I felt like a little kid being comforted and protected in the arms of someone older, someone who cared.

“Come upstairs,” Eugene said. “You can sleep on the futon in Shay’s room.”

I nodded, following him up the stairs before he knocked on my cousin’s door.

Shay was mute, meaning he couldn’t speak. When he was six, he’d had surgery that went badly, leaving his vocal chords irreparably damaged. I had brief memories of him from before the surgery when he could still speak. Then I remembered him after, and he was a different kid. Forever changed. But he was lucky in one way. He had amazing parents who loved him and went out of their way to make his life better. Every single one of us had learned sign language to be able to converse with him, and now, it barely made a difference that he couldn’t speak.

Sure, there were certain aspects of life that were difficult for him, but he was a positive lad and had embraced the challenges that came his way. I wasn’t sure I’d have such a good attitude if I were in his position.

Shay sat by his desk drawing when we came into the room. He turned, clearly surprised to see me there so late.

“Your cousin’s staying the night,” Eugene said. “Come help me set up the futon for him.”

Shay rose, and the two of them made quick work of setting up the futon for me. When Eugene left, Shay sat down on his bed, studying me curiously as I kicked off my shoes.

Why are you staying over? He signed, and I blew out a breath.

That’s a long story. Can I tell you in the morning? I signed back.

Sure, he replied and left me to it; though he must’ve seen some hint of my inner turmoil because he continued watching me for a minute before he finally turned away and got into bed. Shay was two years younger than me. His older brother, Ross, was away at college, so his room would be empty. I expected that was where Mam was going to be sleeping for the next few nights. Remembering I had a shift at the hotel in the morning, I set my alarm to make sure I woke up with enough time to drive back to Malahide.

I worked part-time as a kitchen porter in Derek and Tristan’s family hotel. They also owned another hotel in the city, but I hadn’t been to that one yet. Their dad, Padraig, knew I was looking for part-time work and had offered me a job at the hotel. Derek hadn’t been too keen on it. Being a rich kid, he didn’t understand I needed the money. We might’ve lived in the same town, but that was only because Mam had inherited our small house. We’d never have been able to afford to live there otherwise, not on Mam’s legal secretary salary and Dad’s occasional wages as a bricklayer.

It took a long while to fall asleep, and when I did, I strangely found myself dreaming of thick, dark hair and bright, hazel eyes. I needed to get a handle on my attraction to Derek’s cousin because, as he said, she was off limits. She was here to spend the summer with Nuala. She didn’t need me creepily lusting after her.

The next morning, my alarm went off, and I silenced it quickly so as not to disturb Shay. It was too late, though, because he was already awake. I worried he was going to ask me again why Mam and me stayed over last night, and I was still in no mood to talk about it. To my relief, he didn’t bring it up.

Instead, he signed, You can borrow some of my clothes if you want. You didn’t bring anything with you.

In my hurry to get Mam out of the house last night, I’d completely forgotten to pack anything for myself.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not going to fit into any of your stuff,” I replied, running a hand through my sleep mussed hair.

Shay frowned, looking worried he’d offended me. We might’ve been a similar height, but we definitely didn’t wear the same size. I could do with losing a stone (or three), not for aesthetic reasons but more for health. I was supposed to be starting college at the end of the summer, but I was in two minds about it. I had a secret ambition to join the French Foreign Legion instead. I wanted to get away from my life, away from Dad, but I couldn’t do that until Mam was safely squared away. I also wouldn’t be accepted into the legion unless I was in peak physical health, so …

Sorry , Shay signed. I didn’t mean—

It’s fine . No offence taken. I can survive wearing yesterday’s clothes, I signed in response.

Leaving his bedroom, I went to use the bathroom, washing my face and gargling some mouthwash in lieu of using a toothbrush. When I went downstairs, I found Aunt Claire and Uncle Eugene in the kitchen drinking coffee.

“Is Mam still asleep?” I asked, and my aunt nodded, her eyes gentle as they ran over me.

“Yes, and why don’t you go back to bed, hon? You look exhausted.”

“I can’t. I have work,” I replied, and she stood from the table.

“Well, at least let me make you some breakfast before you go.”

I nodded and sat, feeling like a fish in a bowl as they both eyed me, concern and worry etched into their faces.

“Your mother can stay here with us for a few weeks until we sort out a better situation,” Eugene said. “It’s not safe for her to go home with your father there.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling relieved. “That’s good. Thank you both. I don’t know where we would’ve gone last night if …” I trailed off, emotion catching in my throat. Claire came and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“I tried to convince your mam to report your dad, but she’s refused. I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with your father, but it’s not safe for you to go back to that house either. Promise me you’ll come straight here after you finish work today.”

“Okay, sure,” I said. “I’ll come back here, but I might need to go home and grab some clothes.”

“I’ll bring you,” Eugene said. “I have to work today, but I’ll find time later this week.”

“Right,” I replied as Claire put two slices of bread in the toaster for me.

A small period of quiet fell before Claire returned to the table, setting tea and buttered toast in front of me. She sat across the table as I took a bite, her eyes gentle when she asked, “How many times has this happened?”

I swallowed down the lump of bread like it was a solid brick then muttered, “How long is a piece of string.”

My aunt gasped. I looked up and found her eyes shiny with emotion. Eugene’s were a mix of empathy and fury though I knew the latter was for my dad.

“Oh, darling, why didn’t you ever come to us?” Claire asked, reaching out to touch my hand. I stilled, feeling a strange discomfort at her tender, caring words. If I could’ve convinced Mam to come to her sister’s sooner, how much suffering might we have avoided?

“She made me promise not to tell anyone,” I answered quietly. “When she took him back this year, she was convinced he’d changed. But last night, she finally came to her senses and realised he hasn’t changed, and he never will.”

Again, my aunt’s eyes were etched with emotion. It felt so odd to talk to someone about this because it was a secret my family kept for such a long time. I finished eating then brought my dishes to the sink.

“We’ll see you back here later, yes?” Claire asked as I made to leave. “No going back to your house?”

“I’ll come straight here, I promise,” I told her then headed out.

Work was hectic as usual, but for once, I was glad for how busy it was. I didn’t have time to stress about Mam or worry about how incensed Dad must’ve been when he came home and found both of us gone. He might suspect where Mam was, but my aunt wouldn’t let him into the house if he showed up there, and Shay would be around to scare him off.

Dad had always been strangely freaked out by Shay’s mutism, thinking there was something off about him and that it wasn’t a simple medical condition. He also hated how Mam and me knew sign language, that we had a way of communicating that excluded him.

By the end of my shift, I was all set to drive back to Aunt Claire’s, but then Derek texted me about a party at their house that they were throwing to welcome Charli. My thoughts went to her as I wondered if she were the sort of person who liked parties being thrown in her honour. Personally, I couldn’t think of anything worse than being forced to be the centre of attention.

Then some kind of longing squeezed in my chest. I liked talking to her yesterday, liked how she looked at me as if I were the most interesting person in the room. Her smile had broadened for me more so than it had for the others, which confused me. I didn’t often get that reaction from girls, and it made me strangely nervous, something tightening in my chest when her eyes held mine. But I knew her warmth was mainly down to my Fallout T-shirt, which she was a fan of, too. Beautiful and a gamer. Could she be any more perfect?

Thinking I could spare a few hours to go to the party, I quickly called my aunt and explained the situation. She seemed hesitant but finally accepted when I promised I’d be home by ten. The only problem was, after an eight-hour shift, I reeked of body odour and was in desperate need of a shower. Remembering I had some clothes stashed in Derek’s room from the last time I stayed over, and how their housekeeper was meticulous about laundering every item of clothing that entered the house, I shot off a quick text to my friend asking if I could shower and change in his room.

Sure, man. Get your arse over here, he texted back.

That was what I loved about Derek. He didn’t ask questions about why I would need to shower at his place. He just went with the flow. It was a quick drive to their house. I parked outside, my mam’s twelve-year-old Honda looking completely out of place next to the Balfes’ collection of shiny new, top of the line vehicles.

I pushed down the feeling of inadequacy and knocked on the door. Thankfully, Derek was the one to answer, and we went straight to his room. As expected, I found my clothes neatly laundered, folded, and stored in a drawer. Derek fired up his PlayStation while I headed into the bathroom to shower.

“There are some new toothbrushes under the sink if you need one,” he called after me.

“Thanks,” I said because I did need to brush my teeth.

When I emerged from the bathroom, dried off and fully clothed—since I had no interest in being shirtless around my six-pack-having best friend—I dropped onto the seat next to him and quietly took the spare controller. He was playing FIFA , which I didn’t mind, though I much preferred dystopian or fantasy-based adventure games to football or sports.

“So, who’s coming to this party tonight?” I asked.

“All the usual suspects,” Derek replied. “It’s going to be a quiet one. I don’t think Charli’s a big party girl. Plus, it’d be overwhelming to be the guest of honour at a party full of people you’ve never met.”

“I can imagine,” I said, eyes on the screen.

A few moments passed before I noticed Derek glancing at me. “So,” he began. “Why’d you need to shower and change here? Piss off the old man?”

His question was light-hearted. He couldn’t have suspected the way it caused dread to curl around my insides. “Something like that,” I muttered.

“Ah, that’s shite. Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.” He shot me a wink. “My bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

“The last time I shared a bed with you I woke up to your bare backside on full view. No, thanks.”

“Hey! I was drunk. And it’s not my fault I can’t sleep unless I’m naked,” he defended.

“You could at least wear some boxer shorts.”

“I can’t. They constrict my blood flow.”

“Just shut up and play the game,” I griped, not keen on visualising where exactly his blood might be flowing.

About an hour passed before people started arriving at the house. I wasn’t much in the mood for a party, but I also wasn’t in the mood to go back to Aunt Claire’s and be constantly looked at with gentle, probing empathy. This was the lesser evil, for sure.

Theo and Aidan strode into the bedroom and sat on Derek’s bed, watching us play before Tristan came in and started complaining about us hiding out and being anti-social.

“Get downstairs the lot of you,” he ordered. “It’s fucking dead down there. We need more people to liven the place up a bit.”

Reluctantly, I put down the controller and followed my friends downstairs. I wore a black hoodie and dark jeans, though, thankfully, the party was casual. Nobody was particularly dressed up. A few of Derek and Tristan’s parents’ friends were there, along with a couple of the neighbours’ kids. I wouldn’t exactly call the party dead, as Tristan had described it, but it also wasn’t a wild one like the brothers sometimes threw when their parents were out of town.

Music was playing, and there were drinks and party food. There was a laid back vibe, which, in my current mood, I found preferable to whatever Tristan had in mind. Derek handed me a beer, and I hung back, my eyes scanning the room until I saw her. Charli stood talking to her aunt and uncle, and another older couple who lived down the street. She wore ripped jeans and an oversized cream knit jumper that fell over one shoulder, exposing smooth, olive skin. Her thick, dark hair fell down her back in messy waves, and there was an easiness to her that drew me in. She laughed at something her uncle said and the light, feminine sound released some of the tension I’d been carrying around all day.

There was just something about the girl. Looking at her made all my worry and stress about Mam seem less overwhelming. I was pathetic. She spoke to me once, no, twice, and already, I’ve developed a crush. I needed to get a grip.

Somebody turned up the music, and I knew it was Tristan’s doing. If Derek was the older, more responsible brother, Tristan was the energetic, charismatic younger one. He got people going, made them excited. You could feel it in the room. He was hyping everyone up, making things more lively. I envied him that. He seemed to take being the centre of attention in his stride. I’d always been much more comfortable on the sidelines.

“Hey, Rhys,” someone said, and I glanced down to find Nuala had come to stand next to me. I got along well with Derek and Tristan’s sister. In fact, I’d always seen her as the little sister I’d never had. She was a kind, soft sort of person. The kind of person it was impossible to dislike. I noticed her nervously worrying her lip as she watched a group of girls enter the party.

“You okay?” I asked, frowning and wondering if these were the same girls who’d ostracised her from their group at school. And if so, what the fuck were they doing at her house? Some people had brass necks.

She let out a slow breath, but I could practically feel the tension radiating off her. “I’m fine, just thought I’d hang out back here with you. How’s work going at the hotel?”

“It’s busy, but I don’t mind that. I get along with the other kitchen staff, so that makes things a lot easier.”

“Right. Dad always says the kitchen staff are like their own little family. Chef Moira makes some amazing dishes. We always have her Beef Wellington on Christmas Eve. Oh, and I’m obsessed with her chili soup. We actually have some in the freezer. I eat it whenever I need a little pick me up.”

“I agree about the soup,” I said. “It’s incredible, and I love her lasagne. It’s my favourite.”

“Oh! I think we might have some of that in the freezer, too,” Nuala said, her eyes alight.

“What do you have in the freezer?” asked a silky voice, and I glanced away from Nuala to see Charli had joined us. She was even prettier up close. I’d never seen such thick, dark eyelashes. “Please don’t say dead body parts,” she continued jokingly, and Nuala gave a chuckle.

“No dead bodies. I was talking about the chili soup that the head chef at the hotel makes. Rhys and I are obsessed,” Nuala replied, and Charli glanced between the two of us.

“In that case, I really need to try this soup,” she said just as some pop song came on, and the group of girls who Nuala seemed nervous about started squealing excitedly. Again, her attention went to them, her lips turning down unhappily as she scratched nervously at her arm. Suddenly, Tristan approached and started talking to a petite blonde. They were too far away to hear what was being said, but it looked confrontational. Tristan began gesticulating towards the door as though telling her she had to leave.

“Hey, why don’t we have some soup now? I can defrost it quickly in the microwave,” Nuala suggested, her voice tight with anxiety.

Charli studied her cousin. It appeared she’d noticed Nuala’s nervousness, too, but she didn’t point it out. Instead she replied, “Sure, let’s do it.”

“Great, come on back,” Nuala said, and we followed her.

I could reason with myself that I was hungry for chili soup, but that would be a lie. I followed Nuala because it meant spending some time away from the party with her very beautiful, way out of my league, American cousin.