by Liz Crowe
“We’ll be along in a few minutes,” Antony said, yanking her close and kissing her on the mouth then dismissing her in such an offhanded way it caused a wave of raw fury to crash through her brain.
“Will you please stop acting like some kind of Neanderthal?”
“It’s okay, Rosalee. He’s right. We’re overdue for a chat.” Aiden kept his gaze on his brother.
She stomped out and headed up the small incline near the pool, when she heard the first clear sound of flesh hitting flesh. Dropping Jeffrey to the grass, she said, “Run with me.” He nodded, his eyes serious as if he understood the urgency.
As they burst into the tent, she wondered who best to grab for help. She spotted Dominic dressed as a vampire, his long blond hair slicked back, and his huge eyes framed by what had to be eyeliner. He’d gone into full, frontal flirt mode with some new woman in town, a teacher or something, who seemed well-matched for him in a slinky, lady-Dracula getup. Rosalee thought, not for the first time, she’d be hard-pressed to identify most of the guests as regulars at the Lucasville Episcopal Church.
She spotted Lindsay and Anton sitting with a few other older couples, eating and laughing, although Lindsay’s eyes were tired. Kieran and Melinda sat alone, stiff and unhappy, with full plates of food in front of them. Renee sat at a table of her friends, giggling and admiring the Halloran family engagement ring.
Dom met her eyes, and she jerked her chin to indicate she needed him. He got up and headed her way, snagging Jeffrey, and slinging him up on his shoulders.
“Somebody needs a root beer.” He grinned at Rosalee.
“Yeah, um, listen, I think you should go check on Antony and Aiden.”
“Why? They’ll pound on each other and get whatever it is—or whoever it is—out of their systems. It’ll make for a better basketball game this weekend, trust me.”
“No, I mean it. I….” She stopped when Lindsay walked up, carrying a fresh drink.
“Hey, honey. Where did you find this one?” She patted Jeffrey’s leg.
“Pole barn.” She bit her lip, picturing the carnage she’d left behind.
“Good. That’s exactly where I sent Antony. Lots of great hiding places there.”
At that moment, Rosalee would have given every penny in her paltry bank account to say to Antony’s mother that there would be no holiday wedding. That the whole thing was the worst sort of farce. Somebody else’s idea of a happily-ever-after she simply did not deserve. And one that Antony didn’t want anymore—if he ever truly had.
Just as she opened her mouth to let the ugly truth fly, Renee appeared at her elbow.
“Did you manage to bring Aiden back with you?” she asked with arched eyebrows.
Rosalee’s face flamed hot. She hated this bitch, and everything she represented for Aiden right then, good and bad.
“No actually,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “He’s down at the pole barn getting the crap kicked out of him by his older brother, if you must know.”
This fact didn’t seem to faze anyone in their circle. Renee sipped her gin.
Lindsay sighed. “Dom, would you?” she asked, reaching up for Jeffrey, who went eagerly into her arms. Rosalee tried to hang onto him, knowing Lindsay had been weakened from her treatments. Lindsay just smiled into the boy’s flushed face. “The day I can’t hold a fine young man like this is the day you can plant daisies on me.”
“This is your fault,” Renee whispered before stepping away. “Your fault,” she mouthed again behind Lindsay’s back.
Dom winked at her, smacked Renee’s leather-clad ass hard enough to make her squeal then motioned for his brother to join him. “Kieran, vamanos.”
The tall, redheaded man leapt up, as if relieved to have an excuse to escape his present company. “Trouble mi hermano?”
Melinda’s royally pissed-off face got even more pinched.
“Si, con dos hermanos.”
Kieran shrugged at his unhappy future wife. “Sorry, babe. Family stuff.” She waved him away. He blew her a kiss. She ignored him.
Rosalee tried to breathe, but the anxiety, guilt, and now anger at Renee’s presumption about why the men were fighting, filled her lungs and wouldn’t allow it. She dropped into a chair, while Renee and Lindsay walked with Jeffrey toward the bar, presumably to get him his forbidden root beer. After a few minutes, she dropped her head down on her arms and fought the urge to burst into tears.
Chapter Twenty
“Now this is a sight you don’t see every day.” Dom stood in the pole barn doorway, arms crossed and wearing a scowl.
Aiden caught a glimpse of him before Antony lunged again, forcing him to focus on the task at hand. They faced one another, breathing heavily, both costumes ripped. He thought his shoulder might be out of its socket, it hurt so badly. They’d both sport black eyes by morning. But he’d gotten his licks in, by God. Antony might have a broken nose for his trouble.
Kieran was shoulder to shoulder with Dom. “I wish I had my phone. This would make a killer YouTube video. Peter Pan kicks Batman’s ass around the pole barn.” He laughed.
Aiden made the mistake of shooting him a dirty look, and Antony hit him hard and low in the side, driving him ass over elbow on a bale of hay. The breath left his lungs in a loud whoosh as Antony hauled back to pound his face. Cartilage snapped and his jaw moved sickeningly sideways. At that point, he had no pain. Pain would come later.
He lurched up, determined to head butt the asshole. But just as he hauled back to make likely ill-advised forehead-to-forehead contact, Antony disappeared. Aiden lay there, trying to breathe, and wondering if he would be in any way presentable for his class on Monday. Sounds of random scuffling and cursing grew closer to where he lay sprawled on the floor, one leg still propped on the hay bale, and he scrambled to his feet.
“Get off me, you shit,” Antony yelled while Dominic hung onto his arms and tugged him backward. Kieran grabbed Aiden when he ran toward Antony, ready to use the brief respite to his full advantage.
“Don’t touch me, you pussy-whipped son of a bitch,” he spat out, breaking from Kieran’s grip. “I’m not done with him.” He cocked his not-aching left arm back, ready to plant his fist in Antony’s nose again while Dom had the bastard restrained.
“What did you call me?” Kieran yelled yanking him around so fast, Aiden almost lost his balance. The fist he had ready for Antony glanced a blow off Kieran’s cheekbone.
“Motherfucker!” Kieran shoved him to the floor. “You douchebags need to keep your fight to yourselves. No piece of ass is worth all this.” He looked down at Aiden in disgust before kicking him hard in the thigh. “At least I’m not trying to steal my own brother’s woman. I ought to let him do whatever he wants to you, punk.”
Fury blinded him as he reached out and grabbed Kieran’s calf, digging his fingers into the muscle.
“And you,” Dom said as Kieran swayed and his legs buckled, bringing his six-foot-six-inch frame crashing down on top of Aiden, “You need to keep your goddamned eyes on the prize.” Dom could easily hold Antony. Despite his shorter stature, he’d always been the toughest and most tenacious of all of them. “The prize that is Rosalee Norris.”
Aiden shifted to avoid Kieran’s grip and jumped up. “Yeah.” He stomped over where Dom still had Antony’s arms locked behind his back. He went right up in Antony’s grill. “You know what she thinks, right? Rosalee thinks you,” he poked a finger into Antony’s chest, “are boning your goddamn therapist, even while you make noises about marrying her.”
“Well, that sure would work out for you, wouldn’t it, you punk shithead.” Antony spat a stream of blood at Aiden’s feet. “Then you’d be free to do whatever it is your dirty-little-boy mind wants to with my fiancée.”
Dom blew out a breath of frustration then his eyes widened at something over Aiden’s shoulder. “Kieran, Jesus don’t make this worse than it already—duck!”
Aiden ducked, and Kieran’s fist landed squarely on Dom’s nose, f
orcing him to let go of Antony’s arms and bend over. Blood spurted from between his fingers.
“You are such a pussy-whipped loser,” he muttered as he climbed over Antony to get at Kieran. “Does she suck the chrome off your trailer hitch, ginger? I sure hope so.”
Antony spun around and faced Aiden, his dark eyes full of anger, but also a tinge of remorse. “She’s leaving town,” he muttered, arms at his sides, fists clenched.
“Who is?” Aiden asked, backing away, but eyeballing Kieran and Dominic, who were now scuffling around on the floor, trying to best each other.
“Margot. She’s moving back to Michigan. It’s…it was…I’m…fuck you,” he mumbled, rubbing the blood off his mouth. “I don’t owe you shit. You’re the one who’s trying to scam on Rosalee. And I’m here to tell you, you are not man enough for her. Stick to your cougar-mama hairdresser. You put a ring on that shit, our Nana Halloran’s ring. I suggest you—oof.”
Aiden heard nothing but the satisfying sound of Antony’s lungs emptying of air when he planted his head into the man’s midsection. They went over top of Dom and Kieran, but Aiden had the upper hand and had landed a couple of good blows to Antony’s gut when a spray of freezing-cold water hit him straight in the face. He yelped, cursed, and struggled to his feet.
The water hit Antony next as he headed for Aiden, and he spluttered, letting loose a string of curse words to dye the very air blue. Aiden stood, dripping and shivering, his face a huge ball of agony, his shoulder screaming in pain.
Kieran and Dom got the water hose next, and they leapt apart to stand, dripping wet, hands on their hips, heads down. This particular treatment meant one thing.
Lindsay Love called from the doorway, holding the high-pressure hose nozzle in one hand. “Y’all had better have some kind of excuse for this behavior at my party, and open up your wallets. I’m gonna go on a real sweet shopping spree with the money you owe my swear jar.”
Aiden sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing, and trying not to moan from the pain. Bastard had pinned him and yanked his arm high up behind his back in the first five minutes of their fight.
“Mama,” he spoke up first, figuring that begging was his role still. “We’re….”
“Shut. Up.” The extra bit of rasp in his brother’s voice gave Aiden an evil sense of triumph. He’d landed a couple of good blows to the man’s throat. The rudeness garnered Antony the water hose right to his messed-up face.
“Ow! Mama! Goddamn it…I mean…cut it out!”
“Antony, I’m taking Jeffrey and going home. To my house.” Rosalee’s strained voice came from somewhere behind Lindsay. “You let me know when you’re prepared to act like a grown-up in front of him.”
“Aiden!” Jeffrey hollered from the darkness.
He sucked in a breath. His chest hurt, but not from the fight. “Go on with your mommy, Jeff. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Antony tensed next to him, but he ignored it in favor of shoving the man sideways hard enough to make him drop to one knee. That netted Aiden another chilling spray to his aching face.
“Aiden,” Renee said in a tight voice. He groaned. His mama surely knew how to make an impression. She must have dragged all three women over from the tent to observe her water hose intervention. “That had to be the most immature display of….” She stopped. He could see her Catwoman silhouette next to his mother, and recalled thinking how hot she looked, and how much he couldn’t wait to get her home and mess around with them still in their dumb costumes. “I’m going home,” she declared after a bit. He knew how hard it was for her not to rip into him.
The brothers moved slightly closer together, as if forming a wall of resistance to the general female disapproval radiating from the doorway.
“Kieran,” Melinda added in her nasally voice. “You need to—”
“Go home, Melinda,” Kieran said through clenched teeth. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I will not leave here without—”
“Melinda, just shut up and get your ass home. I’ll call you tomorrow. Ow!” Water whooshed by Aiden and hit Kieran in the mouth.
Antony raised his eyes to Aiden’s. Regardless of their anger, they gave each other a silent high five in honor of their brother’s suddenly rediscovered balls.
“Chrome off your trailer hitch,” Dom muttered under his breath. Kieran shoved him and they were at it again, fists flying.
Aiden heard his father before he saw him. His patented “fucking dumbasses,” comment under his breath and out of his wife’s hearing range, hit Aiden’s ears in a familiar, almost comforting way, before the man dragged Dom off of Kieran.
“Go on.” He pushed him toward Antony. “Go jump in the pool, all of y’all sorry excuses for men. Cool the hell off. You’re ruining your mama’s party.”
“Watch your language, Anton,” Lindsay said.
“Sorry, Linds, but I won’t tolerate this bullshit—”
She sighed and let the water hose dangle from her fingers. “Cool off then family meeting in twenty minutes in the tent.”
Anton gave each of them a hard shove toward the door. Lindsay disappeared, taking the water hose with her. Aiden stumbled out, noting the distinct lack of cars in the driveway, before running over the small hill, yanking off his ruined shirt and diving into the cool water.
By the time he emerged on the opposite side, Antony had joined him. Kieran and Dom were sitting, legs in the water, a good four feet of air between them. Aiden propped his elbows on the side of the still-warm concrete and touched his nose. Damn guy had broken it again most likely, and his left shoulder and upper arm were going numb pretty fast.
Antony emerged next to him, shook the water out of his hair, and climbed out without speaking or looking back.
Aiden sighed and let his body float behind him. He heard shouts and splashes, indicating Antony had shoved the other two into the water, so he got out, not eager to face either of them.
Grabbing a towel from the bin his mother kept stocked, he dried his hair then shucked out of his dark jeans and underwear before wrapping it around his waist.
“I’m going down there.” He spoke to Kieran and Dom, who seemed intent on ignoring him while drowning each other. He’d never seen Kieran so worked up. Not that Dom had stated anything they hadn’t all been thinking since meeting that Melinda bitch. “I can send Daddy back up for you two.” That got their attention. They scrambled to the side and climbed out.
He wanted to bypass the tent and duck indoors for a pair of dry shorts, but Antony spotted him and waved him inside. He sat facing their parents, a healthy two fingers of bourbon in a glass in front of him. His father and mother sat close together. Anton had his arm around Lindsay’s shoulders. Guilt flooded Aiden’s aching head at the sight of her reddened eyes. Sitting two chairs away from his oldest, formerly favorite sibling, he accepted the drink his father poured him.
Kieran showed up next, his sailor suit dripping water, then Dom, wearing nothing but a pair of wet boxer shorts and an evil glare.
“Sit,” their father commanded, preempting any requests for dry—or more—clothing.
They filled in the two spaces between Antony and Aiden, and took their drinks. Angelique appeared, still wearing her Glinda the Good Witch dress, her face tear-streaked. Aiden’s chest constricted. Something else must be going on. Her siblings acting like idiots would never affect her that much.
“What’s wrong?” He winced when the alcohol hit his sore tongue. It burned his throat going down, but lit a nice fire in his chest.
His sister stood behind and between her parents, a hand on either of their shoulders. “You stupid jerks ruined the party.” She glared at each of them. Anton patted her hand while Lindsay focused on her untouched glass.
“The cancer—” Aiden said, needing to add words to the space.
“It’s not getting any better,” his father finished for him, knocking back his drink, and pouring another healthy portion. “We got the news two days ago, and y
our mama has been trying so hard not to ruin the party by telling you. But what do you collective group of knuckleheads go and do anyway…hmm?”
Lindsay kept her eyes on her sons while Anton gazed at her. The raw desperation and terror in his father’s eyes scared the shit out of him. He gulped back his drink and shoved the glass forward. Anton refilled it.
“But I thought the surgery had been a success.” Kieran’s abraded fingers gripped his glass.
“They thought so, too, but at an eight week PET scan, they found more bad cells.”
His mother placed both of her hands on the table. Transfixed by them, by the memory of them dressing him, brushing his hair, swatting his bottom, Aiden gulped. The backs of them were dark brown and dried from the sun, the fingernails short, but tidy. He grabbed for one and she gripped him then held out her other one toward her eldest son. Eyes dark and brooding, Antony placed his huge palm in her smaller one.
“It’s gone to my ovaries. They want to do a radical hysterectomy, as early as next week. They think it’s confined there, but….” She bit her lip and held tight to Aiden and Antony’s hands. “You two are not helping me one bit. I don’t know what it is for sure, although I have an inkling, and may I just say shame on you.” She glared at Aiden, who shrunk back in his chair, while Antony swelled with righteous indignation at the other end of the row.
“It’s not just me,” Aiden insisted. “He is…he wants…well….” He stopped. How to explain what he suspected about Antony and Margot? That they had a bad case of the goo-goo eyes for each other? That he had some kind of crush on Margot, but still loved Rosalee? He shook his head.
“And you, Antony Ian Love, I’m just beside myself over this. You all are grown men now.” Their mother’s voice got stronger with every chastising word. “You don’t solve problems with your dang fists.”
“I don’t give two shits what you dummies are fighting over, or why. All I know is you’d better sort yourselves out fast. Your mama needs you to be strong, together, a unit. The Love family will not implode this way because some broad can’t make up her mind—ow!” Anton rubbed his shoulder where Lindsay had punched him.