by Tracey Lange
Denny
“I have to go.”
And he meant it. He had to get out of there, away from Sunday, away from the things she was saying and the images they were creating in his mind. That fucking guy preying on her, hurting her, and then leaving her there, alone. He shook his head to dispel thoughts that would not be dispelled and jumped behind the wheel of his Jeep. He was going to Katonah. He was going to find Billy Walsh. And he was going to beat the shit out of him.
He slammed on the gas and peeled out. No one was going to stop him. He headed toward the parkway and moved into the northbound lane. He’d be there in less than thirty minutes. He didn’t know Billy’s address, but he’d get it. And if he wasn’t home, Denny would search every shithole bar in Westchester County until he found him. Within minutes Kale called his phone, then Sunday. He declined both calls, silenced the phone, and concentrated on the road.
Something had fallen into place when Sunday said Billy was out to get him. It explained what Michael told him earlier that day, that he’d been contacted by Billy’s lawyer.
“That guy has a lawyer?” Denny had asked. “What did he want?” They’d been sitting at the kitchen table in the Brennan house.
Michael lowered his voice. “He said he filed for a lien because you defaulted on the loan. Is that true?”
“I missed a few payments, but Billy was cool about it. I talked to him.” Still, a thin slice of panic cut through his chest.
Michael, who had warned Denny this loan was a terrible idea, slumped back in his chair. No need for him to say anything; it only would have amounted to “I told you so.”
Denny had assured Michael it was a mistake, that he would clear it up. Maybe Billy got nervous and this was a shot across the bow, but once he knew opening was a week away and he would be the guest of honor, all would be good.
But if Sunday was right, Billy was after Brennan’s. He could cost Denny and Kale everything. He’d already cost them Sunday. That’s the colossal missing link that had been discovered tonight. Denny finally knew why she left. A fissure of guilt penetrated his anger. He’d become fairly holier-than-thou with her for leaving him holding the Brennan bag of needs. In his darkest moments he had blamed her for many things, including his financial troubles and shaky marriage, believing if she’d stayed to help him, none of it would have happened.
He passed the exit for Mount Kisco. Ten minutes to go.
The question of why she left had been answered, but now a new one took its place. Why the hell didn’t she tell them what happened? He could only imagine how difficult it was to talk about it—he’d just watched her do it. He’d watched his sister, small and alone in that chair, share her most traumatic experience, and do it with composure. The whole time he just kept grabbing his arms tighter, holding himself in place, making himself listen because he understood she needed to say it as much as they needed to hear it. But she could have done it so long ago. Saved them all, especially herself, so much pain.
A car on his left was trying to get over to make the off-ramp. The driver leaned forward, gave a friendly wave, and sped up, assuming Denny would let him in. But he didn’t. Fuck that guy.
Instead he hit the gas and pulled up alongside him. The driver looked at him with confusion and signaled with his hand but Denny ignored it. When the guy laid on the horn and sped up again, Denny tried to keep pace but the other driver swung over, forcing him onto the shoulder. He had to slam on the brakes so he didn’t hit a guardrail.
“Fuck!” He grabbed the steering wheel and yanked on it, like he was trying to shake it loose. Then he threw a solid punch at the roof of the Jeep. His fist made contact with the interior light, and the cover and bulb shattered. That dissolved the last of the anger and he let his head fall back against the headrest.
He didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do. Find Walsh and make him pay. But Sunday had begged him not to do anything stupid—Think about Theresa and Molly. Theresa and Molly.
Feeling depleted, he straightened up and checked around him before he pulled his car into the off-ramp lane. He exited, crossed over the highway, and got back on going south. He knew where he needed to go, and it wasn’t Katonah.
* * *
Angie answered the door in a long robe when he knocked, all pursed lips and disapproving eyes. “Molly’s asleep, Denny.”
“I want to talk to my wife.”
Her brows pulled up. “Well, that’s a change. Wait here.” She closed the door in his face.
When it opened again Theresa stood on the other side, mouth set, hand on the hip of her pajama shorts, ready for battle. He let out a gentle groan, hit hard by how good she looked and how much he missed her. Her rigid expression melted into concern. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t know where to start.
She reached for his hand, pulled him inside, and extended her arms. He let himself sink into them.
* * *
When he said he needed to see Molly—just look at her—Theresa led him upstairs, opened the door to the bedroom she was sharing with their daughter, and stepped aside to let him in.
Molly was on one half of the queen bed, her arms flung up by her head. Her hairline was damp. Like her dad, she was a hot sleeper. She was totally out, asleep to that deepest level only kids seem capable of achieving. He watched her little chest rise and fall, listened to her steady breathing, and realized with a heavy heart that if Sunday and Kale’s baby had been born, he or she would be just a little older than Molly.
Then he felt a stab of fear so sharp it almost brought him to his knees. There was evil in the world. How was he going to protect her from it? He wanted to pick her up and hold her, but if she woke and saw him like this, unsteady and emotional, she’d be scared. So he gently kissed her forehead and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Theresa led him downstairs to the couch in the softly lit living room and sat close. Maybe it was the example Sunday had set earlier that night, the fact that she’d been so honest with him, but he decided to do the same with Theresa. He stayed calm, held her hand, and told her everything. No excuses, no prettying it up.
He got a few head shakes when he explained how the financial problems started, but he could tell she was working hard to not react. She interrupted with calm questions—How did you get the mortgage without your dad knowing? How much do we owe on the credit cards? He loved her for using the word “we” and keeping her voice neutral, like she was gathering info so she could help attack the problem. The way her eyes moved around without focusing on anything, he could tell her mind was churning, thinking through how they would get out of the hole.
“Okay,” she said. “We just start cutting expenses, get on a tight budget. I’ll take on extra shifts and overtime, cancel my gym membership. We can sell one of the cars if we have to.” Her eyes and hands held on to his, like she was trying to transfer hope. He was ashamed for ever thinking she would give up on him. He didn’t know when he’d stopped having faith in his own wife.
There was a moment when he considered leaving it right there, keeping the worst of it to himself. She was still with him, on his side. Maybe he could shield her from the rest. But he’d been so relieved to hear the truth from Sunday. As painful as it had been, it was better than being in the dark.
“Theresa, there’s more.”
It wasn’t until he mentioned the hard money loan and using Brennan’s as collateral that she began to look frightened. Even then she stayed composed, but he could see the tension in her shoulders, feel it in her hands.
“Is this guy going to work with you? Give you some time?”
He told her about Billy Walsh and what he’d done to Sunday.
She sat with her hand to her mouth for a long time. “Poor Sunday. But it makes so much sense now.”
“What does?”
“Why she left. What else could have driven her away from all of you? From Kale?”
“But she could have told us. We would have helped her deal with it.”
&n
bsp; “Denny, can you imagine what it was like for her? The shame she must have felt?”
Sunday had referred to stupid mistakes she made that night: going to that bar, drinking too much, being nice to that fucking guy. Going up to his room had been straight-up stupid, but he’d tricked her. “It wasn’t her fault,” he said.
“No, but part of her will always believe it was.” She spoke with the authority of a nurse who’d worked with her fair share of trauma victims.
“She could have told me. I would have done anything to help her.”
She offered a sad smile. “I know. But, knowing Sunday, she was afraid none of you would look at her the same again. Especially you and Kale.”
He thought back to the weeks between the trip to Ireland and Sunday’s departure for LA, tried, in hindsight, to look for the signs. She had seemed off after they got back, a little distant. However, she’d also just spent almost two weeks alone with their mother. And she was supposedly getting over the flu. But he remembered now how spaced-out she seemed, to the point where he was annoyed with her. He and Theresa were trying to get ready for the wedding and the move to a new house half a mile away, and Sunday had been less than helpful. She forgot to bring Shane and Mom to appointments, tried to get out of attending Theresa’s bachelorette party. There were times no one could find her and it turned out she was sleeping in her room. He remembered Kale complaining about how little time she was spending with him.
Had he asked her what was wrong? Doubtful. He assumed she was throwing herself a little pity party. She’d missed Ireland, had to put in extra family time, Denny was moving out. He remembered sitting her down one morning and accusing her of being passive-aggressive.
No wonder she hadn’t told him.
He turned to Theresa. “I have to talk to her.”
She nodded. “Go.”
* * *
He drove home, assuming Sunday would be there by now, and thought about that morning he laid into her, not long before his wedding. She hadn’t argued with him, only apologized, which should have been a dead giveaway. Sunday had never been afraid to put him in his place. She was a peacemaker, but only to a point with him. When he lost his temper or his sarcasm was too searing, she’d tell him to knock it off. And she had subtle but effective ways of getting what she wanted.
One of the more memorable battles of their wills had been over none other than Kale. When he asked Sunday if he could read her story that night so long ago, Denny had feared something was afoot. He spotted them in the commons the next afternoon and recognized the signs: how engrossed they were, the way he looked at her, how she fidgeted and smiled at him. The last thing Denny wanted was for his best friend to start dating his sister. It would inevitably lead to high drama. He threw a few hints at each of them and figured that was the end of it.
So he was decidedly perturbed to learn they were often seen taking walks together through the neighborhood at night. Some guys on the team had spotted them on a bench at Hollis Park and reported back. Instead of confronting Kale, he waited around one night and watched it happen. Sunday sat on the back porch after everyone went to bed. When Kale came walking down the alley, she jogged across the yard to meet him. He took her hand and off they went. Denny had to nip this in the bud before it went to the next level.
His solution was to set Kale up with Katie Hall, a nice mix of hot and easy, and, coincidentally, friends with Michelle, Denny’s girlfriend at the time. They would all go somewhere Sunday would see them and that would be that. She’d be disappointed, but it was for her own good.
To be on the safe side, he pulled a fast one on Kale. They planned to meet up at the West Manor Summer Festival one night, and Denny showed up with Michelle and Katie. Pure dread was written on Kale’s face when he walked up to them, and of course he was too well-mannered to just leave. Several times he tried to talk to Denny, but Denny blocked him at every turn. Kale looked miserable while trying to be distantly polite to Katie, but it served him right for messing with his best friend’s little sister.
The plan culminated with a visit to the Ferris wheel, where Sunday was working as a ticket collector. As the four of them approached, Denny called to her and she turned with a wide smile.
“Hey, Denny. Hey, Michelle.” Her face fell when she looked behind them.
“Sunday, this is Katie.” Denny waved in her direction. “She’s Kale’s date.”
Her whole body seemed to shrink a bit.
Katie pointed up at the Ferris wheel. “How long is this ride?”
Sunday’s eyes touched on Katie’s cleavage and tight skirt, while she ran a hand down her shapeless West Manor Summer Festival apron. “About fifteen minutes.”
“Perfect!” Katie reached for Kale’s hand but he moved away.
“Sunday—” he said.
“You guys better load up.” She held the gate open for them, staring at the ground.
Denny reminded himself this was for the best. “You need our tickets?” he asked, holding them out, hoping she’d look at him.
She didn’t. “No, that’s okay.”
Kale stepped in front of her with a desperate look in his eyes. “Sunday, this isn’t—”
“Step over to the line.” She turned away, to the next customers.
After a fleeting moment of victory, Denny spent that entire ride feeling like shit, especially when he looked down to see Sunday leave the festival to walk home alone. He’d been a dick because he was pissed off they hid it from him. With each round of the wheel he realized that Kale and Sunday made a lot of sense together. And not another guy he could think of would treat her half as well as Kale would.
When he got back to the house a little later that night, she was putting away laundry in her room. She’d come home from the festival and done the damn laundry. She rotated between a pile of clothes and her dresser.
He crossed his arms and leaned against her doorframe. “I set him up with that girl. He didn’t even know about it.”
She kept working.
“And he wanted nothing to do with her. He left as soon as that ride was over. After calling me an asshole and telling us all you’re his girlfriend.” He had never seen Kale so angry, certainly not at him. “I thought he was going to hit me.”
She shut a drawer and turned to him, arms folded across her middle.
“Look, Sun, you’re my sister, and I thought he was…” He lifted his shoulders. “… just being a guy. I didn’t realize…”
Still she just offered that blank expression. She was making him work for it. He couldn’t stand it when she stayed angry with him. It upset their balance.
“I won’t get in the way,” he said, “if this is what you want.”
Her chin tilted up. “It’s what I want.”
“But you need to be careful. If it goes south, it affects all of us.”
“It won’t go south.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
“Not really. But I am sure of him.”
In the face of such earnest conviction, Denny could only shake his head. “All right. Now would you please go put him out of his misery? It’s freaking pathetic.”
After that she hugged him and thanked him for watching out for her. And he told her he always would.
* * *
When he walked in the front door of the house, Jackie and Kale were pacing in the living room.
“Where the hell have you been, Denny?” Kale asked.
But he didn’t answer because Sunday came rushing in from the kitchen, and she’s the one he’d come to see.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kale
“Where the hell have you been, Denny?”
Kale had spent an hour and a half looking for him.
As soon as Denny stormed out of the pub, Sunday had asked Kale to go after him. He almost said no. He wanted—needed—to talk to her. Where Denny rocketed straight to anger, Kale had experienced acute distress while he listened to Sunday talk. Like a hand had reached in, wrapped arou
nd his insides, and squeezed as hard as possible. She’d been pregnant. With their baby. At one point, when she talked about the blood, he thought he was going to be sick, vomit right there at the table. And his mind started making fuzzy connections that were still too vague to pin down but had to do with why she had changed. Why she left.
She looked straight-up scared, with her wringing hands and anxious eyes, and the one thing he could do for her right then was find her brother. He couldn’t erase what happened that night, or the things that followed, but he could stop Denny from making it all worse.
He drove north to Katonah, up and down the small main drag, which was only a four-block stretch. The population of Katonah was less than two thousand, and suburban streets quickly gave way to darker, more rural outskirts, eventually hitting the Muscoot Reservoir to the west and the Cross River Reservoir to the east. People had acreage out there, long driveways with houses set back from the road. There was no sign of Denny’s Jeep anywhere.
He’d been conflicted about what he hoped to find. Part of him wanted nothing more than to find Denny, with Billy Walsh in hand. But that thought hitched in the pit of his stomach because his self-restraint would cease to exist, as would Denny’s. It’s not that Sunday was blameless. She’d been reckless that night, drinking far too much, putting herself in such a position. It was so unlike her, but Kale could see how it happened. They’d all left her home alone with Maura, she’d been under such strain, feeling alone in it. That fucking guy had taken advantage, and he must have been smooth because, drunk or not, Sunday wasn’t a fool. Then he’d left her there alone after she fell. Kale could only imagine the violence that might take over if they laid their hands on Billy right then. He didn’t know whether he was more disappointed or relieved when he found no sign of Denny or Billy and had to head back to West Manor.
While he drove, her story replayed in his mind and painful realizations snuck up on him—their baby would be over four years old now. His or her appearance and personality would be some combination of their genes. Luke would not be here—and he’d experience a moment of horrible vertigo as the world tilted a bit. He pushed the thoughts away, focused on finding Denny. But after cruising around town several times, he gave up and headed to the Brennan house, feeling like he had failed her. Again. Just like he did five years ago when he wasn’t there to stop what happened. When he’d gone on that trip and left her home alone.