Ryan looked cranky. He didn’t do cranky. He was always so stable, so kind, it was kinda scary to see him like this. But he was right. I know he was. Knowing it and believing it though, seemed like two very different things right now.
“Okay,” I squeaked.
Ten minutes later and we were on our way. Ryan wasn’t mucking around. I think it was more that he didn’t want to give me too much time to think about it. To make it something even scarier in my head. A good call on his part, ’cause I was doing a kick-ass job at freaking the fuck out as he cruised along, unaffected. His window was open, the wind ruffling his hair and the radio was down low. I was sure he could hear the pounding of my heart over the stereo, but he remained unfazed.
An hour later I was standing in my now nearly empty bedroom, staring at the blank walls. I’d survived the trip back into the real world. Barely. Fine, it wasn’t that bad, but we hadn’t run into anyone, and no one spoke directly to me. I still wasn’t convinced how I’d cope when they did, but I figured I was running out of time. I don’t think my stubborn ass brothers were going to let me live like a hermit for the rest of my life. I wasn’t quite seventeen yet, that was a damn long life to live cooped up alone. The way I was going, there was a fair chance I’d drive them crazy before I even reached my next birthday. Who was I kidding? I’d drive myself crazy long before then.
Connor had come up and given us a hand shifting the furniture out. All that remained of my childhood bedroom was the pink walls, floral curtains, and a couple of old books that had fallen down behind the bedhead.
“You read this shit?” Connor asked, thumbing through a book. By the look on his face, I’m guessing it was a long time since Connor had last touched a book.
I just shrugged. Truthfully, since I’d been away at school, I read everything. Whether or not it was assigned for class, I read it. My iPad, which thank god had been password protected, was filled with all sorts of books. Books about cowboys and faraway places. Books about billionaires who swept their princesses away from their dreary day job sitting at reception desks or pouring coffee at the local café. I was a book whore. I had so many book boyfriends I was practically a slut. When my head was buried in a book, even a badly written book, I was in my happy place.
Without another word, Connor grabbed the last of the books and carried them into Ryan’s old bedroom. I’d be crashing in there for a couple of days while we got this painted and the smell left. There was nothing worse than the smell of paint. It made my eyes water and my chest hurt.
“You guys all good now?”
“Yeah, thanks, man.”
“Easy. I’m going to get some shit done before everyone arrives.”
What the fuck? Everyone was arriving? This was news to me. And a surprise I obviously didn’t hide very well. “It’s fine, Holly. Just the family. Payton’s cooking. Beau and Gage are coming. Not a big deal.”
“Oh. Okay then.” My pulse was beating like a snare drum played by a drummer on crack. Only it wasn’t okay. I wasn’t ready for this. Since I’d been home, I’d seen everyone. At one point or another I’d talked to them all and we’d played nicely. I was yet to see everyone altogether. I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was bound to happen eventually. On the upside, if Payton was cooking at least I’d get a decent meal out of it. There was only so many nights of steak and mashed potatoes a girl could stomach.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Connor looked uncomfortable. Like he’d just put his foot in it. Walking over to him, I reached out and wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed him. It took a minute, a long ass minute, before he returned my hug. With my head on his chest, I felt tiny in his arms. But safe. A feeling that could never been undervalued or underrated.
“Thanks, Connor.” I didn’t even say what for. I don’t think I really knew. All I knew was I had to say thanks.
“Any time, Holly. Any time.” With one final squeeze he was gone, leaving Ryan and I alone with a tin of paint, some rollers, and a handful of brushes.
“Ever painted a room before, Hols?”
“Do I look like I’ve painted before?”
“Oh boy. This is going to be fun.”
For the record, painting is not fun. Don’t let anyone fool you. It’s not. It’s bullshit. Stupidly, I assumed you dipped the brush in the paint, then slapped it on the walls. Didn’t seem like rocket science. Fuck me, was I wrong! Painting was a pain in the ass. Or maybe it was painting with Ryan, I wasn’t entirely sure. After the first twenty minutes of lectures on how much paint to put on a brush and how each stroke needed to be vertical, I gave up and promoted myself to DJ. Stealing his phone, I clicked on his playlist and kept the upbeat tempo pumping while he painted. I may have played a game or two of Solitaire, but he didn’t need to know that.
“What are you doing about these curtains, Holly?” Ryan asked as his voice brought me crashing back to reality.
“Hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t look at me like that. This morning I hadn’t even thought about painting the walls or throwing everything away. Yet here we are.”
“Whoa there! Calm your farm, Holly. I’m not judging. Just asking. I’m wondering if you give a shit if I spill paint on them or not.”
“Right. Yeah. Sorry. And no, I don’t give a toss if you splatter them with paint. Honestly, it might make them look better. They’re hideous. Remind me again why they’re still hanging here.”
“Mum.” His answer was said so sadly it physically hurt my heart. Mum. I hadn’t heard from her since before I left. One day she was here, stirring up all kinds of shit, then she was gone. At first I was pissed about it. I was her daughter, her only daughter, and she just up and left with not even a goodbye. Then after Gage explained where she’d gone and why, I started to understand. She needed to go figure out her own shit first before she would be any use to anyone. It was probably true. From the way she’d been carrying on like a complete idiot at Christmas, I believed it. Didn’t make it hurt any less, though.
When everything fell to shit, I thought she’d call. I hoped she would. I hoped that one morning I’d wake up after another shitty night and stomp down the stairs and there she’d be. Wearing her old yellow robe, reading a book, waiting for me. I imagined the moment she spotted me halfway down the stairs, she’d stand up and hug me in the way only a mother could. Each morning I wished for it. And so far, each morning my wish had gone unanswered.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up before dinner?” Ryan suggested. For someone who’d done not a whole lot more than hold a paint brush, I was surprised by the amount of paint I was wearing. Tiny white speckles coated my arms and legs. It was probably through my hair too.
“You sure?”
“Yep. I’m just going to finish up here. Then we need to let it dry. I’ll do another coat in the morning.”
“Okay then.” Bouncing to my feet, I scurried out the door, off to find something to wear. Even though it was just family, I felt like I had to put on my best happy face and at least pretend everything was okay.
***
“Where’s Carly?” I asked as we all sat down. Everyone else was there, I couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t be.
“It’s a family dinner, Holly,” Gage explained, but really that didn’t explain shit. Wasn’t Carly part of this family? She was Payton’s best friend and Gage’s girlfriend. At least I thought she was.
“Just let it go,” Connor murmured into my ear as he passed me the plate heaped with roasted potatoes and pumpkin. Bypassing the potatoes, I helped myself to some pumpkin before scooping out a spoonful of peas and breaking off a piece of chicken.
“Please tell me you’re going to eat more than that.”
“Beau.” Payton’s tone was full of warning. “Leave the girl be. She can eat what she wants. Besides, if I know Holly, she’s saving room for dessert.” Fuck, I loved Payton. When she winked at me, I knew I loved her. She was the sister I never had and now, the mother I mi
ssed. Even though she was only married to Beau, with her simple words or chastising looks she managed to keep all of my brothers in line. Hell, she even had Dad drinking water with dinner instead of his usual bourbon. I’d kill to know what her secret was, but then again, maybe it was better if I didn’t.
The rest of the meal was, thankfully, uneventful. Connor rambled about cow prices and stockyards and stuff. I don’t know, I kinda tuned out when he started talking. Gage was crapping on about his complete and utter abhorrence for paperwork, and complaining that if he knew this much ‘paper-pushing’ was involved in being a vet, maybe he’d have chosen a different profession. Beau fussed over Payton the whole time, much to her annoyance. He was either playing with her hair, offering her more food, or asking if she was feeling all right. In my gut I knew they were hiding something, and I had a fairly good idea what that might be. As much fun as it would be to call them out in front of everyone, if it was what I thought it was, then I was keeping my big mouth shut.
Even Dad was less snarky than usual. He criticised the way Connor was doing things, bitched about the state of the house, and complained that no one ever asked for his opinion, but mostly everyone just ignored every word he said. It was sad, really. He was our dad. At one stage in our lives, which to me at least, didn’t really seem that long ago, he was the centre of our world. A world he ruled with an iron fist, but he was always fair. Except with me. Being Daddy’s little girl did have its advantages, which I may have played up once or twice. I think when he found out the farm wasn’t his, right after Mum had walked out, it was just too much. He’d always liked a drink, but now it seemed that was all he liked. Somewhere along the way, we’d all just accepted that this was how he was.
After clearing away the plates, everyone—except Dad—settled in the lounge room. Splayed out on the lounges, they all looked exhausted. They probably were. The boys were out running around all day every day chasing sheep and keeping the farm running. And Payton, I didn’t even want to think about what sort of hours that girl worked. I knew she climbed out of bed before dawn and started baking, then served customers all day. On top of that, she had to put up with Beau’s bullshit at night. I know it was her choice, but geez. That was a lot to take on.
“Who wants cake?”
Just when I thought I couldn’t admire Payton anymore, she came into the lounge room carrying the most gigantic, most mouth-watering, most decadent chocolate cake I had ever seen. I could feel the pimples popping up as I drooled at the sight.
“You made this?” I scoffed. I hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, I mean I knew Payton was an amazing baker, but this looked incredible.
“Yeah. It was quiet this morning and I thought we could all use a treat.”
“You-can-think-that-anytime,” Ryan mumbled through a mouthful.
Sticking my fork in, I broke off a piece and moaned when the chocolatey goodness touched my tongue. It was like heaven in my mouth. “This is so good.”
“Is there any more?”
“More?”
“Yeah, you know. A second helping for your loving husband.”
“Loving husband who’s going to get a fat ass if he keeps eating cake like that!” Damn, I loved Payton’s sass.
“Nah. You’ll help me work it off later.”
“Ew!”
“Gross.”
“Don’t need details, thanks.”
“You’re all just jealous.” Beau winked at Payton and she blushed right to the tips of her ears. It was adorable. “So, about that second slice?”
With a huff that I didn’t miss, Payton found her feet and went and got him another helping. As soon as she was out of sight, Connor slapped him up the back of the head. “If you want a second piece of cake, fat ass, get off your lazy ass and get it yourself. Payton’s not here to wait on you hand and foot.”
Beau looked sheepish. Gage belted out a loud laugh and soon we were all joining in. When Payton returned she looked at us like we were a bunch of weirdos—which we probably were. Although it surprised me, the churning in my stomach seemed to have eased. Tonight, hanging out with everyone wasn’t as bad as I thought. It gave me hope. Hope that in time, I’d get past the humiliation and shame of what had happened and we could all be normal.
I’d thought too soon.
“So, I wrapped up a piece of cake for you for tomorrow, Holly.”
“Thanks?”
“You can take it for recess or morning tea or whatever the hell the kids call it these days.”
There it was. The bubble burst.
“Wh-what do you mean?” My plate and fork clattered to the floor, covering me in crumbs. I didn’t even give a shit. I couldn’t.
Everyone around me stopped, set their own plates aside, and looked at me. This wasn’t a fucking family dinner. This was some kind of bullshit intervention. As far as I was concerned, they could all go fuck themselves. Sideways. With a broom.
“It’s time, Holly. You need to go back to school,” Beau stated matter-of-factly. Did he think he was the boss of me?
“I-I-can’t. You…you…you can’t make me. Please don’t make me.”
Payton sank to her knees beside me. She had these sad, puppy dog eyes happening. I don’t know if she agreed with everyone, or if she was on my side, but I thought she’d understood. “Holly, just breathe. You will be okay. Beau talked to the school and they know the situation.”
“I-I-I’m not going back to Sydney?”
“Fuck no!” Connor boomed, bouncing to his feet, his hands tugging at his hair painfully.
That made me feel better. Slightly. Knowing they’d never send me back there, it helped. It didn’t make anything about this okay, but it helped. Slightly.
“You’re set to go tomorrow morning. There’s a uniform hanging upstairs for you.”
“And you all knew about this?” The shock and panic were wearing off quickly and the bubbling fury was seeping out. The assholes. They were supposed to love me. They were supposed to have my back, no matter what. And right up until now, right up until this moment, I thought they did. Turns out, that too was all bullshit.
“Holly…” Ryan tried to placate me. I was pissed at him the most. We’d spent the entire day together and he hadn’t even given me a hint. Not one. No wonder he was so insistent on me going with him into town. It was all part of their master plan.
Finding my feet, I felt like I was about to explode. “Firstly, you’re all a bunch of assholes. How could you do this to me? Secondly, Beau,” I growled, stabbing my finger in his direction. “How could you have ‘explained the situation,’”—I even used air quotes, I was that pissed off—“when you don’t even know what the fuck happened? And thirdly, if you thought, even for a second, that springing this on me at seven o’clock the night before was the right time, you’re all fucking delusional.”
With that I stomped my foot, turned, and fled out the front door. I heard the door bang and my name being called, but I couldn’t slow down. I had to keep moving. If I didn’t, I’d break down. And right now I didn’t have time to break down. I just had to get away from here. From everyone. They had no fucking clue what they were asking me to do. None. If they did, I’m sure as shit they wouldn’t be forcing me to do something I was so not ready for.
Rocking back, I laid in the back of my ute and stared at the sky. Nothing much was happening up there tonight, which for me was probably a good thing. With the way things were at home when I’d bolted out the door hours earlier, it meant I’d be sleeping under the stars yet again. I wished my parents would just give up already and call it a day. Whenever I spoke to Mum, she promised me that everything was getting better and they were working on it. It didn’t look like it. At least not from where I was sitting. If anything, it looked like it was getting worse with each passing day. I hated them for it. I hated that they kept putting me in the middle. I was the kid, damn it. I should be the one throwing temper tantrums and making demands. Not them.
They’d been fighting as long as
I could remember, it’d never been this bad, though. It used to happen every now and then. These days though, these days it seemed it was all they did. Even when the other wasn’t around to hear them, they’d toss nasty barbs about the other. It’d deteriorated quickly. For my seventeenth birthday a couple of months back, Dad had bought me a brand new ute. Although I appreciated it, I wasn’t dumb enough to believe there wasn’t an ulterior motive behind it. He was ‘one-upping’ Mum. But she wouldn’t be outdone. Instead of doing the big traditional Christmas with the hot lunch and the tree with all the trimmings, Mum had flown us—just the two of us—to Fiji for a week. It was awesome. Snorkelling, wind surfing, paragliding, anything I wanted. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t enjoy the trip, nor am I going to pretend I didn’t milk it for all it was worth…besides, who knew when someone would pay for me to sit on a beach and watch the bikini babes strut up and down the sand again? It still sucked, though. I hated being a pawn in the middle of their game. That’s why I found myself sitting out here, in the middle of nowhere, on a Sunday night. And not for the first time.
Dropping the tailgate, I bounced out of the back and unrolled my swag. If I was out here for the night, might as well get comfortable. At least some of that money they’d been stuffing in my pockets was proving to be useful. The first couple of nights I’d spent out here, all I had was a couple of old horse blankets I’d found lying around the shed. The moment I realised that this was going to be more regular than not, I invested in a swag. Unrolling the green canvas, I smelt the country. Nothing I could do about that. No matter how many times I washed the sheets, it always smelt the same. Sadly, it was a scent that was beginning to bring me comfort instead of homesickness.
Punching the pillows that I kept stashed in there, I straightened the blankets before grabbing my phone from the dash, and the bottle of water I kept on hand. Cracking open the glove compartment, I found the box of crackers tucked there for emergencies, only to find it was empty. I must have finished them last time and forgot to replace them. Guess dinner was out of the question tonight. Tossing the empty box on the passenger seat—hopefully as a reminder to buy more next time I was in town—I locked up the ute, stripped off my jeans, and jumped up into the back.
Fighting Back (Meet the McIntyres Book 3) Page 2