Until Harry

by L. A. Casey

  “Long,” I replied to Layton without looking away from my uncle.

  My father stayed behind me, holding me tightly. I was aware that the close contact was probably going to change after my uncle was buried in the cemetery tomorrow, but I didn’t linger on it. I didn’t see eye to eye with my parents, my nanny or my brothers, but right now I wasn’t thinking of our differences; I was thinking of my Uncle Harry.

  “Where is your suitcase?”

  I tensed a little at the sound of my mother’s voice, then murmured, “At the Holiday Inn.”

  I heard a snarl. “You’re staying in the hotel, and not here?”

  I exhaled a tired breath. “Don’t do this now, Lochlan. Please.”

  He didn’t listen.

  “You’re not staying in a poxy hotel—”

  “Lochlan.” Layton’s stern voice cut our brother off. “We’ll discuss it later.”

  Silence.

  I closed my eyes when I heard the pounding footsteps of Lochlan as he stormed out of the room and down the hallway into the sitting room, slamming the door behind him. I wasn’t surprised that he walked away. Lochlan might be the temperamental brother, but Layton’s word was law. He was the only person who got through to Lochlan when he stepped over the line. I tried not to let my brother, or his outburst, bother me, so I focused completely on my uncle.

  “I was waiting for your email,” I crooned to him and waited for his reply, even though I knew it would never come.

  My father squeezed me. “It was sudden, sweetheart.”

  I felt ill.

  “How did it happen?” I asked the dreaded question that was on my mind from the minute I’d read Lochlan’s letter two days ago.

  “A heart attack,” my father exhaled. “He felt no pain. It happened in his sleep.”

  A heart attack, I silently repeated. That’s what took my uncle.

  I gnawed on my lower lip as I glanced at his attire. I couldn’t help but grin as I took in the thick fleece jumper that I’d knitted him when I was sixteen. He’d loved it, and no matter how many times I’d told him to bin it, he’d refused. He’d said it was the best present he had ever received, which caused me to feel bad for him because it was downright disgusting-looking. I couldn’t knit to save my life.

  My nanny forced the unholy task of knitting upon me during the summer I turned sixteen. I was more than awful at it, but my nanny didn’t care. She made me do it every weekend with her and her friends, who combined had three hundred plus years on me. If my nanny heard me say that, she would whack me. I inwardly giggled to myself at the silent jab and shook my head good-naturedly.

  “Him and that bloody jumper,” I muttered.

  Soft chuckles filled the parlour then, and it helped take some of the hurt and tension away for a few fleeting moments.

  When I was ready, I took a steady breath, then turned to look at the faces I hadn’t seen in the flesh for six years. The first person I saw was my mother. She looked older than her fifty-four years, but no doubt my uncle’s passing had added to the lines on her still beautiful face. My nanny, who was next to my mother, still looked the same as she had the day I left. My second brother was different. He was muscular . . . very muscular. He’d been overweight the last time I’d seen him, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

  “Jesus, Lay, did someone buy you a gym membership?” I asked, stunned.

  My father burst into laughter behind me while my mother and nanny covered their mouths and tried to muffle their giggles. My brother smirked at me, but his aqua-blue eyes shone brightly.

  “I couldn’t be the fat twin forever, now could I?” he asked, tongue-in-cheek.

  I playfully grinned. “I guess not. You look great.”

  Layton winked. “You too, sis.”

  My lip quirked for a moment, then I turned and looked at my father. His handsome face was the same, just hairier and fuller. His entire body was fuller.

  I blinked. “While Layton hit the gym, you hit the pub and chippy. Huh?”

  My father gently clipped me around the ear. “Cheeky brat. I’ll have you know a few layers of fat never hurt anyone. It keeps me warm on these cold winter nights.”

  “I’m teasing,” I chortled, and hugged him.

  I liked that he was fuller; there was more of him to snuggle.

  My brother, mother and nanny were in a fit of laughter at my teasing, and it took them a few moments to calm themselves. My nanny walked towards me when she was at ease and pulled me into her warm embrace.

  “Hello, me darlin’,” she crooned.

  I closed my eyes and gave her a tight squeeze as I got lost in her soothing voice. My nanny was from Crumlin in Dublin, Ireland. Her accent was thick as ever – even though she had lived in England the past fifty years, she never lost her Irish brogue and I loved that about her.

  I smiled affectionately. “Hey, Nanny.”

  When my nanny let go of me, Layton was right there, gathering me up in his thick, muscled arms. I yelped a little when he lifted me clean off the floor and held me in mid-air like I weighed nothing.

  “Can’t breathe,” I playfully wheezed.

  My brother set me down and snorted, “Little terror.”

  I teasingly grinned, then lost it and replaced it with a bright smile for my mother when she approached me. I was expecting her to smile at me and possibly be a little teary, but I definitely didn’t expect her to burst into tears as she hugged me, which is exactly what she did.

  “Welcome home, baby,” she wept. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  I folded my arms around her small body and squeezed. “I’ve missed you too, Mum.”

  That was the God’s honest truth. I did miss her. We didn’t agree on my living away from home, but she was still my mother, and I loved her dearly. She held onto me for a long time as she cried. She kept pulling back from our hug, looking at my face, then throwing her arms back around me and squeezing me as tightly as she possibly could. It was like she couldn’t believe I stood in front of her. That made me both happy and sad. Happy because she was happy to see me, and sad because it was my fault that she rarely got a chance to see me in the first place.

  You have your reasons, I reminded myself.

  I stroked her back. “It’s okay, Mum.”

  Nothing was okay, but it felt right to say it.

  When we eventually separated, I looked from my family to my uncle and frowned. “I guess the only person left for me to greet is Lochlan.”

  A throat cleared from behind me. “Not quite.”

  Oh, no, I silently pleaded. Please, God, no.

  I felt my eyes widen as his voice encircled me like a warm blanket. No matter how many years went by, I would know his voice even if it were a whisper. I slowly turned, but I froze when I saw him standing in the doorway of the parlour, leaning against the panel with his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans.

  His eyes, my mind whispered. What’s wrong with his eyes?

  There were many things that I loved about the man before me, but his eyes were by far my favourite. They were the first things I looked at whenever I saw him. There was always a mischievous glint in his whisky-coloured eyes that only I could see because I looked hard enough. It was a glint that told me his soul was alive and thriving, but what I saw now caused me to shiver.

  There was no glint, gleam or light of any sort in his eyes. They were dead and reflected the clouded grey skies that often hung over York. They were as captivating as they were haunting.

  Even though I moved thousands of miles away to escape him, every day for the past six years I woke up seeing those hazel eyes and fell asleep hearing that soothing voice. I couldn’t shake him whether I was half a world away or in the next room.

  I lived and breathed Kale Hunt, and it was killing me.

  “Kale,” I managed to whisper as I stared at the first man to ever break my heart.

  He gazed at me, then with no trace of emotion he robotically blinked and nodded in greeting. “Welcome home
, Laney Baby.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Six years old (twenty years ago)

  Lane? Where are you?”

  I placed my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut and tried to contain my sobs, but couldn’t. They racked through my body because my head hurt so bad. Rubbing it didn’t make the pain go away and only worsened the throb.

  I opened my eyes when an arm slid under my knees, then another slipped around my back. I yelped when I was suddenly lifted up into the air, and instinctively latched my arms around the neck of the person who lifted me up. I looked at the person’s face, and when bright hazel eyes shone back at me, I cried.

  “Kale!”

  Kale Hunt was my best friend in the whole wide world. If anyone could make me feel better when I was hurting so bad, it was Kale. He was always the one to take my tears away and put a smile on my face.

  I buried my face into the crook of his neck and sobbed like my world was ending. Kale walked over to a desk in my classroom. He sat me on his lap, and hugged my body to his. He rocked me from side to side until I was calm enough to sit up without snotting and blubbering everywhere.

  I looked to Kale when he handed me some tissue from his pocket. After wiping my nose and face clear of tears and snot, I blew my nose and sniffled before crumpling the used tissue.

  “What happened to you?” Kale asked me, his concern laced through his words.

  I continued to sniffle but remained silent and still. I didn’t want to tell him because I would get in big trouble, and he would probably shout at me. I didn’t want to be shouted at.

  “Lane?” Kale pressed when I turned my gaze from his. “What. Happened?”

  I felt my lower lip wobble, and he sighed.

  “I’m not mad at you,” he softly assured me, “but you need to tell me what happened. Anna O’Leary came and told me that you ran in here from the yard and that something happened. Tell me what. Please.”

  “I . . . I was playing skipping with Anna O’Leary and Ally Day when Jordan Hummings took our rope and ran away.” I lowered my head until my chin touched my chest. “I chased after him and tried to get it back, but Jordan fell and said it was my fault, so he punched me in my head and now it really hurts.”

  Kale’s hold on me tightened.

  “Jordan Hummings?” he growled. “The boy in my class?”

  I slowly nodded.

  That’s why I was so scared; Jordan was a big boy like Kale.

  “He hit you?” Kale asked, his voice a snarl.

  I began to cry again when Kale’s anger became evident. He quickly lost the livid look on his face and just as quickly put his arms back around me. He hushed me, said sweet things to me and that he was going to make everything better.

  I believed him.

  “Come with me,” he said, and stood up, then settled my feet on the floor. “My playtime is over in a few minutes, so I have to do this quick.”

  Kale was in big boy classes, and I didn’t like it. He had to be in big boy classes, though, because he was nine years old and had to learn big boy things . . . like maths. When I start year 2 classes next year, Kale and I will have the same yard time and can play together all the time. He told me so.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Kale as he threaded his fingers through mine.

  He grunted in response as he led me out of my classroom and down the long corridor to the exit door that opened up to the playground.

  “I’m going to fix what happened to you,” he said as he pushed the door open and stepped through it.

  I gripped his hand tightly as we walked around loads of children who were playing chase, hopscotch and skipping. We stopped at the girls who were skipping in the spot I’d been skipping on a while ago.

  “Hey, girls, have either of you seen Jordan Hummings?” Kale asked.

  I didn’t know who they were, but they were older than me. They might have even been in Kale’s class because they both smiled wide at him when he spoke to them. I narrowed my eyes at them and pressed closer to Kale’s side. I didn’t like that way they were looking at him. They looked a little too happy to see him.

  “Hey, Kale.” The girl with the bright red hair and lightly freckled skin beamed. “I did actually. He’s gone behind the prefabs with his friends. I’m not sure why, though.”

  Kale smiled to the redhead. “Thanks, Drew.”

  Drew’s smile touched her ears. It was that big.

  “Anytime,” she replied, tucking a piece of her luscious hair behind her ear, a coy smile on her lips.

  I didn’t like Drew; I didn’t like her at all.

  I tugged on Kale’s hand when he didn’t move. He was just standing there, looking at this Drew girl with a weird, goofy look on his face, and it made me mad.

  “Kale!” I snapped.

  He jumped a little, then looked down at me and blinked as if he’d forgotten I was there.

  “She is so cute – is she your sister?”

  Kale looked away from me and back to Drew when she spoke.

  “Lane? She’s actually my best friend. I’m really close with her brothers and family. She is pretty much my sister.”

  The look of admiration Drew shot Kale really ticked me off.

  “Wow. That’s really cute, Kale,” Drew said, and lifted her right hand to her shining red hair, twisting her fingers around the end of it.

  I wanted to chop the hair off her head. She touched it way too much.

  “It-it is?” Kale stuttered, then had to clear his throat because it made a funny noise.

  Drew nodded. “Yep. I think it’s really cool that you look out for her.”

  Kale acted differently then. He shrugged his shoulders like what Drew said was no big deal and then untangled his hand from mine so he could leisurely drop it over my shoulder. “Well, you know. Someone’s gotta look after her. She’s six but she’s really small for her age. She’s only a kid.”

  I frowned up at Kale and decided I didn’t like how different he was around this Drew girl and her friend with blonde hair who did nothing but stand and stare at him since the moment he’d asked where Jordan was.

  Jordan.

  At the reminder of why Kale was even talking to these girls, I tugged on his hand to get his attention, and when he looked down at me I said, “Jordan.”

  Kale blinked, then shook his head clear and set his jaw.

  He looked back to Drew. “You said Jordan went behind the prefabs, right?”

  Drew bobbed her head up and down. “Uh-huh.”

  Kale winked. “Thanks, beautiful.”

  He turned to me then and said, “Stay here with Drew. I’ll be right back.”

  With that said, he walked around me and headed in the direction of the prefabs. I was on the verge of tears because he’d done something wrong. He’d called Drew beautiful, but that had to be wrong because he said I was the only beautiful girl in the world. Just me. He always told me that.

  “Did you hear that?” Drew squeaked to her friend and clapped her hands together like a seal at the zoo. “He called me beautiful. Beautiful!”

  Drew’s friend jumped up and down and squealed. I resisted putting my fingers in my ears to block out the horrible noise.

  “I did,” Drew’s friend said as she too clapped her hands together like a seal. “I so did. Oh, my God! He so likes you! Did you see how he couldn’t stop staring? You’re so bloody lucky, Drew – he is gorgeous!”

  I didn’t want to stand there and listen to Drew and her friend as they gushed over Kale, so I ran after him. I heard Drew call for me, but I didn’t turn around to answer her. In fact, I mentally stuck my tongue out at her.

  Take that, Drew.

  I spotted Kale’s back as he disappeared around the back of the prefabs, so I ran my fastest after him. I got to the back of the prefabs at the same time a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

  “Hold your horses – Kale said you have to stay with me.” I looked over my shoulder and stared up at Drew, who was looking down at me with furr
owed brows. Her chest rose and fell rapidly like my own as we both tried to catch our breath.

  She lifted her gaze and looked straight ahead. Her mouth formed into the shape of an O before she flung her hand over her mouth and screeched. I jumped with fright and snapped my head forward, but like Drew, I too screeched when I saw what she had.

  Kale was in a fight – with three boys.

  “Kale!” I cried when one of the boys kicked him in the side of his belly.

  I tried to rush forward to help him, but arms folded around me from behind.

  “Stop!” Drew’s voice hissed in my ear. “You’ll get hurt!”

  I didn’t care; I had to help Kale before he got hurt.

  “Leave him alone!” I screamed at the boys. “Stop it, please!”

  The noises of punches and slaps filled my ears, and just as I was about to scream again, one of the boys on top of Kale suddenly yelped in pain after receiving a kick between the legs. He fell backwards onto the ground and held both hands between his legs. He didn’t get back up and try to hit Kale again; he stayed down and began to cry in pain.

  A few seconds later a second boy fell back off Kale, holding his nose, and he began to cry too, and like the boy next to him, he stayed on the ground and held onto his face as blood began to seep through the fingers he had pressed over his nose.

  I didn’t know why, but I held tightly onto Drew’s arms as she bent down and picked me up. She held me to her and tried to turn so I couldn’t see what was happening, but I turned my head just enough to see that the last boy to fight Kale was Jordan Hummings. The boy who stole my skipping rope and punched me in the back of my head.

  Kale was on top of Jordan. Both of them had blood on them, but Jordan had a lot more on him than Kale did, and he was crying. Kale was not. Jordan lifted his hands and tried to push Kale off, but Kale knocked his hands to the side and grabbed him by the collar of his school uniform and held him in place.

  “If you ever,” Kale bellowed down into his face, “touch my family again, I’ll fucking kill you!”

  I gasped. Kale said a bad word, a really bad word. He was going to be in so much trouble when his mummy and daddy found out.