Strings of the Heart

by Katie Ashley

  Lowering my voice, I asked, “You know, when she asked you about your kilt?” When he still looked clueless, I sighed. “Are you wearing any underwear under that kilt?”

  “My, my, that’s awfully intrusive of you. What’s gotten into you tonight?”

  “Nothing. I was just curious.”

  He then gave me a sexy little grin that ignited the lacy panties I was wearing. “You really want to know for you or so you can tell Cassie?”

  “For me,” I whispered.

  “Well, you could always be daring and reach under there to see for yourself,” he taunted.

  I stared at him unblinking and unmoving for a moment. For one, I was shocked that he had even suggested such a thing—it was so uncharacteristic of him. On the other hand, was he actually suggesting that I touch him so very intimately in the middle of a crowded dance floor? “I, uh,” I muttered incoherently.

  Rhys chuckled. “Too scary of a prospect for you, Allie-Bean?”

  His somewhat condescending tone irked me. “No, it’s more the fact that I don’t think your mother would approve of me groping you in the middle of her fancy fling.”

  “I really don’t give a damn what my mother thinks.”

  “Yes, well I do. Besides, I have my reputation to contend with. I’m going to have to pass this time.”

  “Pity then,” he replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He then ducked his head to where his breath warmed my earlobe. “I’ll be nice and put you out of your misery. I’m wearing boxer briefs.”

  “Oh,” I replied, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice. I don’t know why it really mattered to me.

  Pulling back, Rhys eyed me with an intense expression. “You know, I think we’re entering dangerous territory.”

  I swallowed hard. “W-We are?”

  He slowly nodded. “I’m saying things to you tonight that I really shouldn’t. It’s not right.”

  “I don’t want you to say or do anything different, Rhys,” I countered.

  “You don’t?” he asked, his brows rising in surprise.

  “No, I don’t. I like you just as you are—the good and the bad.”

  The sound of a shriek, followed by breaking glass, snatched us out of the moment. Rhys dropped his arms from me and raced back into the house. I followed right on his heels. When I got to the doorway, I froze. In the middle of the room, Ellie was throwing a tantrum, crying, pulling her hair and stomping her feet. Most of the partygoers in the ballroom had scattered to the opposite end of the room and were whispering behind their hands.

  Elliot and Margaret made a half circle around Ellie as if they were trying to contain her. They spoke no soothing words of comfort. Instead, they eyed her with contempt. Rhys, however, barreled right past them to try to calm Ellie down. “Ellie-Bellie-Mellie, please don’t cry. I’ll make it right.” His words, coupled with his expression, broke my heart for him. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you,” he said soothingly.

  Ellie’s crying quieted to whimpers, and she no longer stomped around. Instead, she swayed back and forth, humming the tune that the quartet was playing.

  “What did you do?” Rhys demanded, his eyes narrowing at his parents.

  Margaret’s face was the shade of an eggplant from anger, not embarrassment. “We couldn’t hear each other talk over her playing. I simply asked her to stop. When she refused, I closed the lid to force her to stop.”

  The veins on Rhys’s neck bulged in fury. “How could you? She wasn’t hurting anyone.”

  “She was ruining your mother’s party. She should have never been here in the first place,” Elliot replied.

  Ignoring his father, Rhys tentatively put an arm around Ellie’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you back home. You can play the piano all night if you want to.” When Ellie started to resist, Rhys began humming the same music she was. It seemed to calm her, and she willingly let him lead her out of the house. I followed close behind them, unsure of what to say or do. Part of me felt responsible. I’d worried about suggesting she come to the party. Of course, I’d feared some stranger ridiculing her. I never could have imagined her own mother would have treated her so horribly.

  When we got to the doorway of the carriage house, Ellie balked and pulled away from Rhys. She started walking across the lawn to the garage. “She wants to go home,” Rhys murmured.

  “But isn’t this her home?”

  “Not when she feels hurt and angry. I guess you could say it’s her way of running away, putting distance between her and my parents.”

  Trudie opened the door. The moment she saw Rhys’s face she gasped. “What happened?”

  “I need to take Ellie back to the Brandewine Institute. Now.”

  With a nod, Trudie replied, “Let me get my bag.”

  “You know you don’t have to stay with her there,” Rhys said.

  Trudie smiled and patted his cheek. “I don’t have to, but I want to. She needs me tonight.” She then disappeared back into the house. Across the yard, Ellie waited patiently at Rhys’s car, swaying to the music that floated back from the tent.

  Tentatively, I took a step forward. Placing my hand over Rhys’s heart, I said the words that were sorely lacking in the moment, but the only ones I could think to even comfort him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  He brought his agonized gaze to mine. I could see he was troubled, not at Ellie, or it seemed, not even at me, but, he was too highly strung to form words. Instead, he just nodded his head in acknowledgement at my words.

  “Look, I know you need to be with Ellie tonight. Don’t worry about me. I’ll call a cab and—”

  Rhys furiously shook his head. “No, please don’t go. Stay here and wait for me to get back.” He squeezed my hand that still rested on his chest. “I need you tonight, Allison.”

  The emotional weight of the moment and his words made it hard to breathe. When I could finally speak again, I didn’t realize the irony of my words until after I’d spoken then. “Of course. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

  “Thanks, Allie-Bean.” We were interrupted by Trudie coming out the door with a small suitcase. “You can wait for me in the pool house. That’s where I’ve been staying.”

  I nodded in acknowledgement like I knew what he was talking about. A shadow of a smile played on his lips. “It’s right over there.” He motioned to the side of the carriage house where a building with a glass roof was connected.

  “Okay, I’ll wait for you there.” I watched as he and Trudie made their way across the yard and got Ellie into the car. I stood in the same spot until the car backed down the driveway and disappeared into the night.

  Thankfully the backyard was lit up for the party, and I didn’t have any trouble finding the front door. As I pushed it open, I let out a low whistle. The “house” was actually one long, glassed-in room that appeared to have been built over an existing pool. I couldn’t help wondering if it had been done as a safety means for Ellie.

  On one side of the pool, there was a fully stocked bar that I was tempted to stop at. After the last half hour, I desperately needed a drink to calm my nerves. As I kept on walking, I couldn’t help shaking my head. Of course, Rhys’s parents didn’t have just your average pool. Oh no, it had a partial waterfall in the deep end that led into an alcove with faux rock formations. There was also a large Jacuzzi within the alcove. At the end of the room, my attention was drawn to two wooden doors. With my heels clicking on the tile, I headed to the room. When I opened the door, my nose was assaulted with the smell of Rhys. It must’ve been where he had been staying. There was a large, four-poster bed along with several pieces of furniture. His suitcases and clothes were strewn all around on the floor.

  Several picture frames adorned the nightstand. Most were of Rhys and Ellie while there was some of Runaway Train. With my heart beating wildly, I reached forward and snatched up one of the frames. It was a candid picture from Jake and Abby’s wedding with the guys and their families.
Instead of the professional one I’d seen in the wedding album, this one captured everyone in a moment of brevity. As my finger traced over the glass, I saw an island paradise in the background as Jake, wearing a teasing smirk, grabbed Abby’s boob while she stared wide-eyed with horror out at the camera. Rhys had his head thrown back laughing at something AJ had said about Jake’s antics. One of his arms was slung around my waist, drawing me close to him. I stared up at him with an adoring smile. Out of all the pictures, I wondered why he had chosen that one to frame. Surely, he could see by both my eyes and expression that I felt far more for him than friendship.

  After I sat it back on the nightstand, I left the bedroom, closing the double doors behind me. With nothing to do but wait for Rhys, I sat down on the edge of the pool. Taking off my naughty heels, I slid up my dress and let my feet drop into the water. I leaned back on my hands, swirling my feet through the cool water.

  I don’t know how long I had been sitting there lost in thought when Rhys’s voice caused me to jump. “Hey,” he said softly.

  “Hi,” I replied.

  He dropped down to sit beside me, stretching his legs out on the tiled floor. “Is Ellie okay now?” I asked.

  A sad smile formed on his lips. “Yeah, she was just fine when I left. She was listening to music and painting. I suppose I should be grateful for the small mercies of life.”

  “That she’s able to find happiness?” I questioned softly.

  He exhaled harshly, his head falling back to gaze up at the moon glowing over the glass roof. “While my heart aches each and every day for Ellie and her situation, sometimes there are days where it aches more for Lucy.”

  I stared curiously at him. “Why is that?”

  “One day when Lucy is older, she’ll be cognitive enough to realize that there is something different about her. While I know that Bray and Lily will never do anything to cause it, Lucy will compare herself to Jude and to Melody. Most likely, she’ll feel anger and sadness that she isn’t the same as them.” Rhys glanced over at me. “Ellie never has to do that. She never has to compare herself to me or feel what it’s like to not live up to our parents’ expectations. She’s thankfully oblivious to all of that.”

  I slowly processed the truth in his words. My chest tightened at the feeling of sweet Lucy ever having to feel bad about herself. Eyeing my painted toenails in the water, I tried to tune out the voice in my head—the one that was nagging me to question Rhys. But then I realized that I had to ask or else I would never be able to look at him the same way. “Rhys?”

  “Hmm?” he replied, staring out at the water.

  “You’ve never brought Ellie around the guys much, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  Gnawing on my lip, I finally dared to ask the question that was haunting me. “Is it because you’re ashamed of her?”

  Rhys jerked his gaze from the water to meet mine. His dark eyes bulged. “How dare you ask me that?”

  “It’s an honest question. I’ve only heard you speak of her a few times before tonight. You never mention your family when you’re with the guys.”

  Scowling, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You should know by now that I’m a very private person.”

  “Private or emotionally shut off?”

  Flinching prematurely, I prepared myself for him to yell at me, but he surprised me by murmuring, “A little of both.”

  “You don’t have to be that way with me. I want you to be able to trust me, Rhys.”

  “I do trust you. If I didn’t, I would have never let you meet Ellie.” Rhys exhaled an anguished breath. “The truth is I could never be ashamed or embarrassed by Ellie. The reason I don’t speak of her or bring her around is I’m more afraid of my reactions to the way others treat her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t respect anyone who finds fault with Ellie. Since I was a kid, I’ve been defending her. When I was in the fifth grade, I got expelled from a private school because I hit a kid with a golf club after he was telling people my sister was a freaky retard.”

  “Oh Rhys,” I murmured.

  He angrily shook his head. “I’ve ended many friendships, and even a few relationships, with people who expressed disdain and somewhat repulsion being in her presence.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “She deserves respect just like anybody else, so why should I give my time to those who have no respect for my blood?” Rhys bellowed.

  “No, I mean, it’s terrible that anyone would have disdain or repulsion for Ellie,” I said, softly.

  Rhys’s expression softened. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.”

  “Stop beating yourself up.” When he still appeared unconvinced, I said, “It shows a great depth of character that you care so much about your sister. She’s so very lucky that she has you in her life.”

  “I guess I’m really a bastard for not talking about her, huh?” he questioned. From the look in his eyes, I could tell it was something that really worried him.

  “No, I can totally understand your reasons. But at the same time, you’re protecting yourself more than you are her. Your motives are better than your parents’, but at the same time, you’re still hiding her away.”

  “The more people who know about her, the more ridicule she is going to have,” Rhys protested.

  “Yes, but at the same time, think of all the good you could do for autistic people if you were to come out and talk about Ellie—if you lent your name to fundraisers and charities. Your celebrity might even change the way some people treat autistic people.”

  Rhys weighed my words for a few moments. “You’re right. I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.” Tears sparkled in his eyes. “Makes me feel like a stupid, selfish prick.”

  I shook my head. “Sometimes you’re just too close to a situation to truly see things the way they should be.”

  “How could I screw her over like that?”

  “Don’t you dare say that! You could never, ever do anything to hurt Ellie.” Reaching over, I cupped his cheek with my hand. “I’m not going to let you sit here and beat yourself up, okay?”

  With a weary smile, he replied, “Okay.”

  “You’ve got one of the biggest hearts I know, Rhys. There isn’t a malicious bone in your body. You would walk barefoot through a field of glass to make sure Ellie was happy.”

  “I suppose.”

  When he stared mournfully out at the water, I clapped my hands together. “You, sir, are in desperate need of a drink.” Holding my dress in place with one hand, I rose to my feet. “Come on. Let’s be cliché and drink away our troubles.”

  Rhys stared up at me for a moment before a grin spread across his face. “You’re so fucking right. If there was ever a night to get plastered, it’s tonight.”

  While I boosted myself onto one of the stools, Rhys walked around the side of the bar. “What sounds good?” I asked.

  “I think the better question is, what is going to get us shitfaced the fastest?”

  I giggled. “And if you get shitfaced, how will I get home?”

  Rhys shrugged. “Guess you’ll just have to stay here.”

  His reply caused me to gasp. “H-Here?” I stammered.

  “Besides the fucking monstrosity main house, I’m pretty sure there’s room in the carriage house for you.”

  “Oh,” I murmured, trying not to hide my disappointment.

  As Rhys plopped a bottle of tequila down on the bar, he winked. “Of course, my bed is pretty big, and I wouldn’t mind sharing it.”

  My mouth dropped open as I tried processing what he had just said. Like a typical guy, he’d been able to go from emotionally broken to teasing sex-fiend in less than two minutes. I don’t know how guys could inflict such whiplash with their feelings. But was Rhys’s joke just something to lighten the mood? Or was this really it—a proposition to be
with him? Deciding not to let him get one on me, I replied, “I’d be happy to share your bed.”

  Rhys’s dark eyes twinkled. “I think you’d change your mind pretty quick after you heard me snore.”

  I laughed. “I hog the covers, so we’re even.”

  “Two horrible bedmates, huh?”

  “Yep,” I replied, although secretly I wouldn’t have cared as long as I got to share his bed.

  Taking out two shot glasses from under the bar, Rhys sat them in front of me. “Think you’ve got it in you to do some hardcore shots?”

  “I will if you will,” I dared.

  “Oh, I will,” he replied. He unscrewed the lid on a bottle I wasn’t familiar with. When he glanced up, he must’ve noticed my questioning look. “This,” he began before waving the bottle, “is pure white tequila from the agave fields outside of Guadalajara.”

  “Sounds intense.”

  Rhys grinned. “Trust me, it is. They barely put in a capful of this shit when they make a margarita.”

  “How did you come to get it?”

  “AJ’s family has killer connections, so he always brings us back some when he goes to visit.”

  “I see.”

  As Rhys picked up his shot glass, I frowned. “No limes or salt?”

  Glancing at me over the rim of the glass, Rhys said, “You’re not totally hardcore then.”

  “If you don’t have any, that’s okay.”

  Rhys sat down the shot glass. He held up one finger to me before walking to the end of the bar and bending over. Leaning up on my stool, I saw that he was rooting around in a small refrigerator. When he stood up, I saw two limes in his hands. As he started back to me, he started juggling them. “I didn’t know you were a man of many talents.”

  “Oh yeah, I totally wanted to run away with the circus when I was a kid.”

  I giggled. “Seriously?”

  He cocked a brow at me. “You’ve met my parents. Anything, including the circus, would have been better.”

  My smile faded as I once again felt the intensity of his pain. When I started to say something to him, Rhys shook his head. “No more of that or we’ll have to down the entire bottle. Then I’m pretty sure we’d end up with alcohol poisoning.”