Meet The McIntyres - The Complete Series

by Rebecca Barber

  Gage: Fuck no!

  That shocked the shit out of me. I thought Gage would be cool with me crashing on Carly’s couch. Especially because she was with him. Devastation consumed me. I didn’t know what to say. It was my own fault really. I’d gotten my hopes up. I really only had myself to blame.

  Ryan: Okay.

  Gage: Take Carly’s bed. You need a good night’s sleep.

  Gage: In the bottom drawer of the dresser you’ll find a couple of my shirts and some sweat pants. They’re not the best but…

  That was enough to cue the waterworks again. I had to stop doing this. Riding this rollercoaster of emotions was making me dizzy. Thinking the worst of everyone, waiting for them to disown me or hate me, I couldn’t do it anymore. It was screwing with my head. I had to learn to trust them. I had to learn to trust myself. It wouldn’t be easy, but at the very least, I had to try.

  Ryan: U sure?

  Gage: Carly said if she can’t smell you on her pillow tomorrow she’s kicking your ass.

  Gage: …and mine.

  Gage: WTF did I do?

  Ryan: Thanks.

  Although I said thanks, it didn’t seem like enough. Gage and Carly mightn’t know it, but right now they were saving my life. I don’t know what I would’ve done if they’d sent me away. Snagging another beer, I headed into Carly’s room and found something to put on. After tugging on a pair of navy sweatpants that were too short and too tight, I tried for a shirt. After barely a breath, I gave up on that. Trying to pull it over my shoulder hurt too much to even bother. Between the couple of beers and the pills, sleep was calling me. Lying back across the bed, I groaned as the softness swallowed me. Damn, this was so nice. I barely had time to pull the comforter over me before I was out.

  “Ryan?” I looked up at the sound of my name. Alex was standing there looking dishevelled and exhausted and sexy as hell. Even feeling the way I was right now, I couldn’t deny how hot he looked covered in sweat and dirt. “What are you doing here?”

  Using the wall to steady myself, I stood up on my wobbly knees. “My dad…he died.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex

  I heard what Ryan said, but I couldn’t believe it. Or maybe I didn’t want to. He looked like a puppy someone’d kicked. His eyes were red-rimmed, his hair dishevelled, and the pants he was wearing were at least two sizes too small. When he clutched at his arm and winced, I knew there was no way I was turning him away. Not tonight.

  “Come on. Let’s get inside.”

  Unlatching the door, I watched him shuffle past me with his shoulders slumped. After I grabbed him a bottle of water, he collapsed into the couch and let his head fall back against the cushions.

  “Give me five minutes to have a quick shower?” He just gave me some nondescript grunt.

  If I heard what he said correctly, this had hit him and hit him hard. I don’t know what had led him to my doorstep, but I couldn’t send him away. As quick as I could, I stepped under the cool spray. All my ideas of an early night vanished with Ryan’s appearance. If he needed someone to talk to, I was here. He wouldn’t go through this alone. Even if I didn’t know what brought him here, I was glad it was me he turned to.

  After changing into sweats and a long sleeve shirt, I found some clean extras. If I could persuade him to change, surely he’d be more comfortable in clothes that fit. I didn’t even want to know who’s pants he was wearing. Now was not the time for jealousy.

  “Here you go. Thought you might want to get changed.”

  “Thanks,” he replied emotionlessly.

  When he reached out for the arm of the chair to push himself to his feet, he howled like a wounded wolf.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just this stupid broken collar bone.”

  “What broken collar bone?” Damn! Ryan’d been through the wars lately, and by the sounds of things, I didn’t even know the half of it. “Have you eaten?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  The same time he told me that, his stomach grumbled loudly. “You go get changed, have a shower if you want, and I’ll organise some food.”

  Without a word, Ryan shuffled off towards my bedroom. I heard the shower start and started rooting through the freezer, hoping to find something at least half edible in there we could reheat. After finding a packet of Bolognaise sauce, the decision was easy. Grabbing a saucepan, I filled it and waited for the water to boil. I was by no means a chef, but I could hold my own. Turning on the oven, I threw a loaf of garlic bread in and waited.

  On the coffee table, Ryan’s phone was ringing off the hook. The moment I did it, I hated myself. I looked at his phone. It was an invasion of privacy and wrong in every sense of the word, but I just couldn’t not. It was like it rang and rang until voicemail picked up, then the caller tried again with text messages dotted in between.

  Zoe: Are you okay?

  Payton: Where are you?

  Connor: WTF Ryan?

  Holly: Please call me and tell me you’re okay.

  Gage: Ryan come home.

  Connor: Get your scrawny ass back here!

  It was no wonder he was crying at my door. His family were nagging and demanding. Thankfully, I only had Shane to deal with. I couldn’t imagine multiple versions of him coming at me from every angle.

  “Hey, sorry I took so long.”

  “No worries.” Ryan looked completely wiped out. Even a shower hadn’t perked him up. Not that I expected it to. “Dinner’s nearly ready.”

  “Okay.” It was like all the fight; all the spark had gone out of him. He was going through the motions, but he wasn’t really paying attention.

  When he settled himself in a chair at the table, I handed him his phone, a bottle of water, and a couple of aspirin. “At least tell them you’re okay.”

  Ryan looked at me with wide, sad eyes. Eyes that brimmed with tears again. I knew he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. He took the phone from my hand and stared at it like he had no idea how to use it. Like it was a foreign object he’d never encountered before. When it rang again, I recognised Zoe’s name.

  “Want me to answer it?”

  Again, no answer came, but he didn’t flinch when I reached out and took it from his hand.

  “Hello?”

  “Where the fuck have you been, Ryan? And where’s my car?”

  “Zoe, is it?”

  “Of course it’s Zoe! Who the fuck is this? And why have you got Ryan’s phone? Where is he?”

  Wow, this one was a ball of fun. I could see instantly why Ryan adored her. “My name’s Alex. Ryan’s at my place. He’s okay.”

  “Thank fuck! Wait! Where is your place? Is this Saturday night Alex?”

  Ouch! That fucking stung. Did he have a Monday night John and Wednesday night Frank? Was I just one of many flavours Ryan was trying out? Shaking off the jealousy, I focused at the task on hand. Ryan might have been here, sitting in front of me, but he was so far from okay it was kinda scaring me. I couldn’t say that, though. No one needed to panic any more than they obviously were.

  “He’s at my place in Melbourne. Look, Zoe, I don’t know what’s going on, I’ve just gotten home. Why don’t I call you in a bit? For now, just know he’s safe.”

  “Melbourne! That little fucker took my car and drove back! He left me here! I’ll wring his bloody neck!” By this point, I don’t think she was actually talking to me. I think she was more ranting to herself.

  “Zoe!” I said a little loudly. I had to. I needed to do something to get her attention and end this call so I could figure out what the fuck was going on. I had some of the puzzle pieces already, but so far, they weren’t fitting together. I needed Ryan to share the missing ones so I could put it together. “I. Will. Call. You. Back.”

  “Fine,” she huffed and hung up on me. That one was definitely feisty. I couldn’t wait to meet her.

  Handing Ryan back his phone, I watched him shut it off before I turned back to the saucepan of boiling water.
After adding pasta, I turned the microwave on to defrost the sauce. The smell of garlic bread was wafting from the oven, and I wanted to double over in pain. My stomach was killing me. And the scent of buttery, hot bread wasn’t helping. Once the kitchen was under control, I sat down at the table opposite Ryan. For a moment silence enveloped us. I wanted him to start, but one look at him and I knew he couldn’t.

  “What happened?”

  His head snapped up and his eyes bored into me. “He…he died.”

  “How?”

  “It was my fault. I killed him.”

  Although Ryan was staring straight at me, I’d bet money he couldn’t see me. He was caught somewhere in his own head. Briefly, I debated ringing Zoe back and asking what had happened, but thought better of it. If Ryan thought he killed someone, I needed to hear it from him first. At least his version.

  “Okay. Take a breath and tell me what happened. First, to your shoulder?” I figured starting off there was a safe place.

  Twenty minutes later we’d circled around the problem which had led him to my door. He’d told me about the accident at work, the old roadhouse Zoe had shown him, as well as a five-minute rant about not understanding Connor and his domineering ways.

  “I told them I’m gay.”

  “How’d they take it?” Even though we’d already had this conversation, Ryan looked like he needed to take his time to work his way through it. This time slowly and without fear of repercussions. When his eyes flickered to the door, I knew I’d made the right call. Without a word, I got up and deliberately strode across the room and slid the dead bolt and chain into place. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d used them, but if that’s what it took to make Ryan feel safe to let go, then it was nothing. On the way back to the table, I swiped the bottle of gin from the shelf and a couple of tumblers. I wasn’t sure we wouldn’t need the anaesthetic when all was said and done.

  “I didn’t mean to tell them. It kinda just slipped out.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Yes. No. Fuck, I don’t even know. One minute we were laughing and making fun of Holly’s new boyfriend, the next thing I know I’m blurting out in front of my whole family I’m gay. I always thought when I told them I’d be in control. Do it my way. Do it privately. Like one on one. Not spit it out over pie.”

  “There was pie?” I was trying to make him smile. My attempt fell flat.

  He simply ignored my comment and kept going like I hadn’t even spoken. Usually, this would’ve pissed me off, but under the circumstances I’d give him a free pass tonight. “I don’t even know what happened next. Things were said. Someone squealed. I think it was Payton. Might’ve been Carly. Beau asked questions, and Connor said something dumb. Nothing really. Then he spoke. It was like he held back until everyone else had their say. Not even Holly and Zoe, both holding me, promising me everything would be okay, could take the sting out of his words.”

  “What’d he say, Ryan?”

  “He told Beau not to defend me. That no one should defend a poof. He said he didn’t want a fag in his house.” Undisturbed tears streamed down Ryan’s face and I was surprised when I tasted my own. Without a word, I cracked open the gin and poured a healthy slug into the tumblers, handing one to Ryan, and downing mine in one long gulp. It tasted horrible and burnt like a bitch, but it was nowhere near as painful as having to endure hearing those words. I could only begin to imagine how much it must have hurt for Ryan to hear them. And from his dad, no less. It was one thing to be called those things from strangers as you walked down the street, but from your own father, that fucking sucked.

  “Then what happened?”

  “What do you mean? Isn’t that enough? He called me a fag. Told me to get out of his house.”

  “Ryan.” I reached out and touched his hand and he recoiled at the contact. Sucking in a breath, I held it for a moment before letting it go, trying to calm my own pain. “What he said, yep, it was terrible. But that didn’t kill him. You said you killed your father.”

  “I did! Don’t you understand that? My dad is dead and it’s all my fault.”

  Obviously, Ryan was working his way through his emotions and he’d just graduated to anger. Guess in tonight’s episode of this relationship I was playing the role of punching bag. Tonight, I’d allow it. But just for tonight. After that, no fucking way.

  “How is it your fault? How did he die?”

  “I always thought it was the alcohol that would do him in. For years he’s been a drunk. And a fucking mean one. I thought he’d get pissed and do something stupid. Like get behind the wheel or pass out in a pool of his own vomit. But no. Asshole had to go and have a fucking heart attack smack bang in the middle of an argument with Beau.”

  “What were they arguing over?”

  “Me. Beau was defending me. Telling Dad that I was still his son, and no matter who I chose to love, I was still the same person. Guess that didn’t go down well. After firing back, Dad apparently clutched at his chest, and called me a disgrace to the family name right before he hit the floor. They called the ambulance, but it was too late. He was gone before they got there. His heart couldn’t take it.”

  “So, how’s that your fault?” I wasn’t dumb. I could see exactly how he would be blaming himself. Fuck, if I were in his shoes right now, I’d undoubtedly be doing the same thing.

  “How isn’t it?” Ryan pushed back from the chair, sending it clattering to the floor. Neither of us made a move to right it. Instead we stared at each other, daring the other to break first. “It’s not a coincidence that he finds out I’m gay and the next minute his heart fails.”

  “You said yourself you thought it would be the booze that brought him undone. Have you even stopped to consider how damaged his heart already was?”

  “But…but I did it. He died because of my choices.”

  “Your choices? Grow the fuck up, Ryan.” I hadn’t intended on dishing out some tough love. “Being gay isn’t a choice. It’s not something you one day wake up and decide to try. It’s who you are. And being exactly who you are is okay. Not everyone is going to understand and accept that. But it’s who you are. And those who don’t understand, they’re not worth having in your life.”

  “But my dad…”

  Ryan wasn’t crying anymore. He was a sobbing, emotional mess. With each outburst, his whole body quaked and his lip quivered. Standing up, I wanted to give him a hug. I needed to give him a hug. Not just for him, but for me. He might think I was holding it together right now, the truth was I was the complete opposite. I was barely hanging on.

  The microwave pinged and my eyes darted between the bubbling pot on the stove and Ryan. Needing a minute to search my reserves for some strength I wasn’t sure I had, I turned my attention to the kitchen. I should’ve been paying more attention, but shit happens. The pasta was overcooked and gluggy, the garlic bread was more brown than gold, and the sauce, well, the container had exploded and the whole inside of the microwave looked like a murder scene.

  It’d do.

  I couldn’t fucking start again. At this point I wasn’t even worried with how it tasted, let alone how it looked. If it lined my stomach, I was all good with that. Especially if I was going to continue downing gin shots.

  Hurriedly, I got it all together and pushed a bowl in front of Ryan. He looked up at me with the most pathetic, sad, and lost eyes I’d ever seen. Holding out a fork, I waited for him to take it. With a curt nod he took it and stabbed at the pasta. He didn’t look impressed. I tried not to take it personally.

  While he toyed with his food, I forced it down. “Where were you?”

  Ryan dropped his fork, leaving a thick red smudge of sauce on the table. “What do you mean?” he asked as he tried to wipe it up with his hand.

  “Leave it. I mean, when your dad and Beau were arguing. Were you there?”

  “No. I was passed out at Carly’s place. I got caught in the storm and stumbled up to her place to ride it out. I crashed at her place. My shou
lder was killing me, so I took a couple of pills from her cabinet. They worked a treat. Didn’t feel a thing after that. Actually, didn’t even hear a thing until the next morning when Gage and Carly were standing over me. They woke me up and told me.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Ryan was pretty much silent after that. Well, silent except for the swearing each time he took a swig of gin straight from the bottle. It seemed pouring it into a glass took too long. When he passed out on the couch barely an hour later, I looked off his shoes and he didn’t even budge. He was out for it. After covering him with a blanket, I stole his phone and wandered into the bedroom.

  Thankfully Ryan wasn’t one of those people who had a password on his phone. If he had, I’d never have been able to get in. Scrolling through, I found Holly’s number and called.

  “Ryan?” she answered breathlessly.

  “Ah, it’s Alex. Is this Holly?” I felt like a moron.

  “I’m Holly. Where’s Ryan? Is he okay?”

  I couldn’t hold back the chuckle as I sunk down onto my bed. Her concern was unmistakable. “Holly, he’s fine. Drunk, but okay. He’s passed out on my couch.”

  “Oh. Okay. Good.”

  “Good?”

  “At least he’s safe.”

  “You’re really worried, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am! He took off like a bat out of hell without telling anyone where he was going. He took Zoe’s car. He’s gay. And our dad just died. How couldn’t I be worried?”

  Fuck, I was an insensitive prick sometimes. “Sorry. I didn’t think…”

  “It’s fine. It’s just been one of those days, I guess.” Toeing off my shoes, I reached down and peeled off my socks. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why do you want to know? Do you even care?”

  Ouch. That hurt. Without realising it, I was rubbing my chest in that spot right above my heart. “Of course, I care. Ryan’s hurting right now and I care about him. So, if I can help in any way, please, Holly, just let me.”

  I heard her huff down the line. I would have sworn she was weighing up her options. Trying to make the right choice. I admired her for that. I may have only met the girl for two minutes and heard her name mentioned maybe half a dozen times, but already I admired her.