The Cassidy Brothers

by Sienna Blake

  Donncha had always been the emotional one. He had always been the one who talked animatedly of revenge and violence if anyone ever picked on us as kids. I’d always been the level-headed one. The one who spoke about telling the authorities and letting justice prevail.

  Now I understood Donncha on a level like never before. Because I wanted to kill Channe.

  I wanted to beat the living shite out of him before the Garda got here. To throw the worthless bastard into a bog somewhere, never to be seen again.

  But Orla needed me. She needed me to be level-headed. To take charge. To make everything okay.

  She was shaken up pretty badly.

  I was forced to push all my rage aside as the Garda showed up.

  Then Tristan showed up to the house with my parents in tow. Orla was forced to recount her story again—was this the third or fourth time?—and I did what I could to usher the Garda out of the house.

  Finally, they cleared out. We found that Orla’s turkey was overcooked, having been forgotten during the drama that unfolded and dealing with the authorities afterward, but we were all going to eat it anyway. There was nothing a good lashing of gravy couldn’t fix. I was in the kitchen with my brothers, cooking up the vegetables, as our parents freshened up from their trip.

  Orla appeared from the stairs, her hair dishevelled, having lain down for a nap.

  “Did you sleep okay?” I asked.

  She nodded. Then shook her head, her eyes looking hollow. “I just lay there.”

  I wanted to beat the living shite out of Channe for making her feel afraid. The three of us took turns pulling Orla into our arms, kissing her face, her cheeks, her bruises.

  She was looking better with every show of affection from us. Donncha even got a chuckle from her as he said something to her under his breath.

  When it was my turn, I pulled Orla into my arms.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep you safe,” I whispered into her hair that smelled like the vanilla shampoo she used.

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Doesn’t change anything. We promised you’d be safe here.”

  Orla looked up and slid her warm hand against my cheek. “I knew when I came here that trouble might be following me. You’re not to blame for that. No one is, except Channe.”

  “That bastard—” I hissed.

  She shook her head. “Please, can we try to put this behind us?”

  “Of course,” I agreed. “It’s behind me.” I was starting to think I couldn’t deny her anything.

  She gave me a dubious look.

  “Okay,” I said, “I’ll try to put it behind me.”

  “That’s all I ask.” She leaned in to give me a kiss. I kissed her as gently as I could, feeling like she could break at any minute. Before reluctantly letting her go.

  “What are you guys doing?” Orla asked, looking around the kitchen. “Oh, you guys don’t have to finish dinner. I can—”

  “Nope.” I cut Orla off with a firm shake of my head. “You can let us finish dinner, or we can order a pizza.”

  “Delivery drivers don’t come all the way out here,” she said with a smirk.

  “Then I guess we’d have to send Donncha.”

  “Like hell you will,” he mumbled, pulling Orla into his side. “I’m not leaving her.” The three of us couldn’t stop touching her, all of us seemingly needing to reassure ourselves that she was here, she was alive, and she was okay.

  Which raised an important point…

  Something we’d not discussed.

  “So…” I cleared my throat. “I think it might be best to keep this relationship from our parents for now.”

  “What?” Donncha asked with his brow furrowed. He slipped one arm around Orla’s shoulder. “Why would we do that?”

  I didn’t like the look in Orla’s eyes. She looked almost betrayed. “You’re embarrassed about me?”

  “What? No. God, no. I just think we should wait until after the holiday. They might not understand or approve. I don’t want to risk an argument tarnishing the holiday.”

  “I guess that makes sense…” Orla trailed off, biting her lip.

  “Listen…” I walked over to Orla and took her hands in mine, Donncha’s arm still around her shoulder. “I love you. I’m not ashamed of that. Or you. Or us. But there are going to be people who don’t understand this arrangement. I don’t know if my parents will be among them. So I just think we should play it safe for now. We should tell them—we will tell them—but once we’ve figured out how this is going to work in Dublin. Not here. Not in their house. Not on Christmas.”

  There was silence as the three of them considered my words.

  “I don’t like keeping this from Ma and Da,” Tristan said as he showed up on Orla’s other side, sliding his arm around her waist.

  “Neither do I,” said Donncha.

  “I don’t like it either, but would you have us spring this on them now?” I asked. “How would they react if they walked in here now and saw us like this?”

  We all looked at each other and at the way we held onto Orla. Even the most liberal of people would turn their heads at us. This relationship was so far from mainstream.

  I wasn’t even sure that people in Dublin would understand it.

  Tristan let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid I have to side with Aogán.”

  “Tris!” Donncha exclaimed.

  “It’s just for Christmas, Donncha,” Tristan said. “We’re not hiding it from them, just choosing the best moment to tell them.”

  Donncha was quiet for the longest moment. Then he turned to Orla. “How do you want to handle this, ginger snap?”

  Orla caught my eye. Then she said, “I agree with Aogán. We wait to tell them.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. And nodded. I pulled up her hand to my lips and kissed her fingers.

  The next two days were going to be tough hiding our affection or her. Especially after her attack. We were all feeling super protective of her. But after that, we’d be going back to Dublin and taking Orla with us. I anticipated that we were all going to be living together soon. And we’d not have to hide our love. At least in our home.

  We just had to get through Christmas.

  Donncha

  This was torture.

  Sitting next to Orla at the table and not being able to reach for her hand, repressing every cheeky wink or smile, listening to her laugh and not being able to capture it with a kiss. Torture.

  I hated keeping my feelings for her a secret, especially when just the sight of her hair falling across her face or the way her nose crinkled when she laughed made my lungs feel like they were bursting, and all I wanted to do was to scream out my love for her.

  Ugh. Sheer. Torture.

  Christmas Day dawned and with it came more snow. It was just a light dusting, but it gave the day a traditional Christmassy feel. Aogán was the only one awake when I came downstairs, so I started a fire in the fireplace while he started coffee brewing. We were sitting at the table together, talking business when our mother came downstairs in her housecoat.

  “Well, this is nice to see,” she said, delight clear on her face. She turned the kettle on for her morning tea and took a seat at the table with us. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to find you guys getting along so well when we got here.”

  “Wasn’t this your goal when you connived for us to spend four weeks here without you?” Aogán pinned her with a shrewd look.

  She laughed. “I guess I’m not as crafty as I thought I was, huh?”

  “We know you pretty well, Ma,” I said with a wink.

  “I’m sure there are still ways in which your mammy might surprise ye.” There was a strange tone to her voice.

  What was that supposed to mean?

  She fixed herself a cup of tea and returned to the table just as Tristan walked into the room.

  “Oh, good. All my boys are here. Sit,” she said to Tristan. “I need to talk to yo
u three.” Her tone suddenly grew serious.

  “What’s going on, Ma?” I asked.

  “I want to talk about Orla.”

  We all stiffened. If she hadn’t known something was going on, this was a dead giveaway.

  “What about her?” Aogán asked, his voice almost even, the quickest of us to recover.

  “I’m not an eejit, boys,” she said, sipping her steaming tea as she regarded each of us in turn. “I know that something’s going on here.”

  We were silent. There was no good response to that. Not without lying to her face.

  “You love her,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  The three of us boys caught each other’s eye, our own fear and anxiousness reflected in the other’s.

  I let out a forced laugh. “Of course we do, Ma. She practically grew up in this house.”

  “That’s not the kind of love I’m talking about and ye know it.”

  The three of us were silent.

  Our ma continued, “I’m your ma. I know you boys better than ye know yourselves. I can see the way you all three look at her.”

  Aogán swallowed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Ma.”

  “Bullshite,” she said.

  I almost choked on my coffee at her outburst.

  “Have you told her how you all feel?” Our ma studied our faces around the table. “Uh-huh. You have. And…what was her reaction?”

  Fuck. What were we going to say to her? I looked to Aogán. But even he looked unsure.

  Ma raised an eyebrow at us. “Because that’s the one thing I can’t figure out. Because she looks at you…all of you in that way when she doesn’t think anyone is looking.”

  Anywhere but here. I wanted to be any-damn-where but here.

  “Aogán? Donncha?” I flinched when she said my name in that questioning tone. I could never lie to my ma, especially not when she got that tone about her. “Tristan?” My ma looked around the room at all of us, waiting. “I see. She’s with not one, but all of you.”

  “Ma!” Donncha said in exclamation. Tristan’s cheeks reddened. I wanted to bury myself in a hole and never come out.

  My ma raised her eyebrow. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  We three boys looked at each other in shock. I waited for the outburst, for the shriek of horror from my ma before she fainted dead away.

  To my utter surprise, she laughed. “You remember your father and I spent those few months in Tibet? Well, they have a common practice of polyandry. That’s a woman who has several husbands,” she explained with a grin on her face. “Fascinating custom. And, if I do say so myself, utterly enviable.”

  There was a piercing silence.

  No outburst.

  No shriek.

  No fainting.

  In fact, she had a dreamy look on her face that I refused to allow myself to think what the hell that was about.

  “You’re—you’re not upset?” I asked, focusing instead on this important fact and what it might mean for Orla. For us.

  “Nonsense. I’m thrilled to have a new daughter.” There was nothing but warmth and happiness in her expression. I let out a breath I had been holding.

  I couldn’t wait to tell Orla. This had just turned into the best Christmas ever.

  “Then tell me, Mama Cassidy,” Orla’s voice came from the kitchen behind us. Even now she called our ma that childhood nickname. We hadn’t seen her come in, but it looked like she heard the whole conversation. “How do you feel about a grandchild?”

  Joy spread across Ma’s face and she leapt from her chair, engulfing Orla in a hug. When they broke apart, there were tears in her eyes.

  “What’s going on in here?” our da asked as he came into the kitchen with sleepy eyes and wearing Christmas pajamas.

  “We have a new daughter and we’re going to be grandparents,” Ma said. I could see the pure happiness on Orla’s face at the acceptance she was receiving from our ma.

  “Ah, so you talked to them,” our da nodded. “Good. Now they can stop being so secretive.”

  “You knew too?” I asked, spluttering.

  “’Course I did,” he responded gruffly. “I’m your father. I may not be as eagle-eyed as your ma, but she tells me everything. Now, come on, let’s open presents.”

  “And…you’re okay with this?” I asked, my eyes still wide as saucers.

  My parents shared a cheeky look I almost wish I hadn’t seen.

  My da chuckled. “If you only knew what—”

  “Shh you,” my ma said to my da with a giggle, swiping at him with her hand. “What happens in Tibet…”

  Well that was a statement I was promptly forgetting about.

  But more importantly, we were worried for nothing. Our parents, the only other people whose opinions I cared about, knew about our unconventional relationship and loved us regardless.

  There was no better gift I could have asked for.

  Epilogue

  Orla

  One Year Later…

  “I really wish we could’ve spent a couple weeks here again,” I said wistfully as we pulled up in front of the country house. It was Christmas Eve and we were only staying until New Year’s Day.

  “I know,” Aogán agreed from the driver’s seat. “But work was just too crazy this year. It’s all your fault, you know.”

  I smirked. “Because I’m so brilliant?”

  “And humble.”

  I laughed, loving how light-hearted Aogán was with me. He was still the solid, responsible man I fell in love with. But he’d relaxed a lot more too, which I loved equally.

  I sat back in my seat, basking in the wonder that was the last year. Not only had I fallen in love with three beautiful men, I had fallen in love with designing toys. Turned out that I was good at it. Every toy I’d designed this year was a smash hit and required us to work harder than ever to keep up with demand. It was my calling. Maybe there was something to this fate thing that Aogán liked to talk about.

  A giggle from the backseat drew my attention round. Donncha was playing peek-a-boo with our son, Keith, named after my father.

  All three of my men loved him as if he were their child.

  Channe was in jail, awaiting a trial for abuse and rape of a minor. I wasn’t looking forward to the proceedings, but that wouldn’t stop me from testifying. With Aogán, Donncha, and Tristan supporting me, there wasn’t much I feared these days. Channe needed to be locked up and I was going to do whatever I could to make it happen.

  Donncha covered his face with his hands, then popped them open to reveal a goofy face, making Keith giggle even harder than before. There was nothing like the magical sound of a baby’s laughter.

  The five of us were living together these days in a big house on the outskirts of Dublin, with a backyard and more bedrooms than we currently needed. When I had pointed that out to Aogán before purchasing, he had simply shrugged and said that we’d fill them up over time. The memory made me grin.

  At the Cassidy family home, we got out of the car, Tristan carrying Keith in his car seat while Donncha and Aogán gathered gifts from the back. They refused to let me carry anything but the diaper bag. I wasn’t going to waste time arguing. My men were overprotective, but I had come to love that about them. It was their way of showing how much they cared about me.

  The front door of the house opened before we reached it and Lana came hurrying out.

  “Where’s my favourite?!” She wrapped me in a hug first.

  Donncha rolled his eyes and playfully teased her about ignoring her other children. She sidestepped him and went for Keith, making me laugh. Lana had truly embraced being a grandmother when Keith was born, despite the truth of his conception. She didn’t care about biological parentage. All that mattered was that her boys called him their son. She was like a second mother to me. No one could replace my own ma, of course, but it felt so good to have a mother figure in my life once again. To have a family once again.

  We finally made it into the hous
e to find John watching an old black-and-white Christmas movie and eating from a plate of sugar cookies.

  “How many of those have you had?” Lana admonished, taking the plate from his hands.

  “Barely two.”

  “Two handfuls.”

  “But it’s Christmas,” John grumbled.

  “The season for sharing,” she replied, holding the tray out to us with a smile. Each of the guys took one, but I declined, as my stomach was feeling unsettled.

  Aogán and Donncha got to work putting our gifts under the tree. We’d gone a little overboard this year. It was partly because for once in my life, I had my own money to spend on Christmas gifts and partly because we were buying for our child, too. He might be too young to remember this Christmas, but that didn’t mean we weren’t going to spoil him rotten.

  Dinner was full of catching up. The elder Cassidys were still living out their dream of spending retirement sailing around the world, so we didn’t see them as much as we’d have liked, but they always came back with amazing stories. I found myself riveted as they talked about Australia…the Netherlands…Mexico. They were truly happy in their travels. I recognised it because I knew true happiness, too.

  Every single day I woke up feeling like I couldn’t get any happier. With the love of three men and a career that awakened a passion in me, how could I not?

  We slept in my old bedroom from last year that night, two beds pushed together and Keith in a small cot by our side. How things had changed from when I first arrived just over a year ago, cold, alone, and afraid. Now I was surrounded by warmth, happiness, and above all, love.

  Opening gifts on Christmas Day took over an hour, and the best part was watching Keith’s fascination with the boxes and the sound of tearing wrapping paper. He mostly ignored the actual gifts, which John found hilarious.

  I had spent a lot of time picking out gifts for my men this year. I gave Aogán a brand-new leather briefcase with his initials etched into it. Donncha got a framed picture of the two of us at the beach on my birthday a few months ago since he’d been asking for one for his office. I gifted Tristan a book on modern art. I knew he could put that to good use since his career as an artist was finally taking off. At the end of the summer, he’d gotten recognition as a rising star in the art world, and a selection of his pieces was on display at the biggest art studio in Dublin. I was so proud of him.