by Annie Dyer
“Do you want to come back in an hour and I’ll let you know about a place where you can get away from it all for a while? And think about your future?” I needed to call my step-mother, Marie, to ask about the cottage, and it was phone call I wanted to make in private.
“I need to get something to eat anyway. I’m starting to feel ravenous all the time and I really need to put some weight back on,” she gave a sarcastic sounding laugh. “Me, an ex-model talking about needing to fatten up. What has my life come to?”
“You know it will be fine,” I said as she stood up, picking up her oversized designer handbag.
She smiled and shook her head. “Claire, both you and I know that it could be anything but fine. This could go on for months, if not years, and yes, I’m now worried about him maybe ensuring I meet with an accident. That’s why I’m taking your security.”
“Are you going to tell me what’s happened to lead you to that conclusion?”
Katie looked out of the window. The rain had finally subsided, maybe not washing away the entirety of a summer’s day. “No. Not yet.”
“You need to go to the police.”
“I can’t. His influence is huge, Claire. And I have nothing real to tell them. They’ll put it down as me being paranoid or attention seeking and he’ll end up using that against me,” she said, checking her phone. “I need a divorce, I need to get what I can from him and then I need to start somewhere new. I don’t want to leave my charities that I work for, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that I might have to.” She stowed the phone away. “I’ll see you in an hour. Thank you so much for what you do for me.”
“It’s part of the service,” I said, dreading the phone call I was about to make.
“It’s more than your job and you know that.” She slumped out of the room, saying a polite goodbye to our receptionist while I brought up Marie’s number on my phone.
I loved our step-mother. To all intents and purposes, she was my mum, except she had never wanted to take away the memory of the lady who had given birth to me and three of my brothers. Marie had married our father after a whirlwind romance while he was on business in New York. She’d come home with him after the case had settled and taken on a broken man and four broken children. Marie had been my gravity, my sounding board and now I needed her help with a client, I was also about to tear open an old wound that only she knew about.
She answered on the second ring, her voice still containing traces of the New York accent that nearly thirty years in England hadn’t managed to subdue. “Claire,” she said. “I hope you’re ringing to tell me you’ll be joining us this weekend?”
Shit. I’d forgotten that half of my family was congregating at my parents’ house to help discuss Jackson’s wedding plans. He’d become engaged to Vanessa a month ago and neither of them seemed content to wait or to have something small. Vanessa owned a marketing company and they’d met only three months ago when she’d undertaken rebranding Callaghan Green. Event planning for her was anything but a chore and they’d asked family over to our parents for the weekend to go over their suggestions. “I had forgotten,” I confessed. “I’ll be there for the Saturday if I can’t get over tonight.”
Marie laughed. “This new case will be taking over your life right about now,” she said knowingly.
Marie had been a lawyer herself, pausing her career to look after us and then have three more babies, my younger half-siblings.
“You need to remember to try and have a life too.” And stop punishing yourself, I heard the words even if she didn’t say them.
“I know. It’s hard though,” I said, honestly. “This case in particular.”
“Maybe you should have someone else run it, or do the bulk of it with you acting as advisor,” she said. “But I know you won’t. I know this will be complex and messy.”
I had told her some of the details already. She was still an owner of the company and acted as advisor herself when we asked. “My client, Katie, needs somewhere to be for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months. And she needs access to a doctor.”
“Okay. Can I ask why?”
“She thinks she’s pregnant. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do yet though.” I filled her in on the details Katie had given to me, along with her concerns.
“Oh, Claire,” Marie said, concerned for both myself and Katie. “You want her to stay in the cottage?” There was a sigh. “That wouldn’t usually be a problem and we’d have taken no issue with that, but Killian’s brother is staying there with the twins. If she doesn’t mind sharing, then that’s no problem. I don’t think Nick would mind, even about the security detail.”
“She’s using his firm anyway,” I said. The security firm my brothers had commissioned was owned by Nick and Killian O’Hara, two ex-marines. My eldest brother, Max, had been roommates with Killian at university, which is how I had met him when he came back to our house for some holidays.
I had successfully avoided Killian for ten years while he was serving our country. He’d occasionally surfaced at large family gatherings but then disappeared to wherever he was based. Only Marie knew why I tried to avoid him. Even Killian didn’t understand.
“That might make it smoother. Nick’s got the place like Fort Knox with having the twins there. Let me speak to him and I’ll ring you back in five,” Marie said, a plan clearly forming in her head.
“Marie,” I said quickly before she could put the phone down.
“Sweetie?”
“Is Killian there this weekend?” I said, anxiety drowning my voice.
“Yes. Claire – he’s Max’s best friend, he’ll be an usher at Jackson’s wedding. You need to let yourself move on. Try to come tonight. We can talk,” she said. “Now let me speak to Nick.”
She hung up and I decided it was time to get some coffee, needing some form of sustenance. Voices were echoing around the corridor my office led out on to, specifically the voices of my two older brothers.
“You need to choose, Max. This person is going to be working for you. Not me.” Jackson stood with his hands in his pockets, top button undone and tie abandoned. His hair was mussed but his beard neat. The similarity between him and Max was difficult to miss: Max was slightly taller, slightly wider. His hair was shorter and thicker, his beard longer but just as styled.
“But who do you think will be better?” Max said. “They’re both qualified legal execs; they both have experience in this sort of field…”
“You’re wondering which one will cope with your moods and you treating them like they’re not fit to breathe the same air as you, brother?” I said. Max did not like anyone who couldn’t keep up with his rapid thought process and would tell them so in no uncertain terms. “Who wore the higher heels?”
They both looked at me as if I had just landed after a trip to Jupiter.
“Seriously. The weather’s wretched. Whoever had confidence to wear heels in this will have the confidence to endure your bullshit,” I said, aware that I was sporting decent four-inch stilettos, trying to boost my meagre height and lengthen my legs. My brothers had been given the height gene. It hadn’t been shared with me.
“That would be Jeanne,” Max said. “She wore red heels. Everything else was black.”
I nodded. “A good combination. Powerful. Go with her and keep the other girl’s information on file in case Jeanne doesn’t work out. What time are you leaving for our parents’?”
Jackson beamed, his thoughts clearly focusing straight on Vanessa and the wedding. He looked ridiculously happy and it made my heart expand to see him that way.
“As soon as we can. You are coming, aren’t you?”
“I need the moral support to get through this,” Max said. “He’s becoming unbearable with all the sex he’s getting. I keep telling him that once they’re married and Van’s inevitably pregnant he’ll have to be content with his porn stash and right hand again.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Maxwell. You need to get over
this and find a girlfriend who can broaden your horizons beyond Ed Sheerin and the missionary position. I know you don’t have the confidence… I know, maybe we could hire you someone. Not a hooker – maybe a sex therapist? Consider it my gift to you…”
Max’s back slap on Jackson’s back was a little too hard.
“Remember you’re at work,” I said, knowing how easily they could get out of hand when winding each other up. “Yes, I’m coming. I might have company on the way there though.” My phone started to ring, Marie’s name flashing up. “Two seconds,” I said and bolted back into my office.
“Claire, sweetie,” Marie said as I answered. “It’s fine with Nick. She can have the room with the large ensuite on the other side of the house, so she’ll be away from the twins and Nick for most of it. She’s already sent him an email about security so he’ll be able to sort that easily. I just hope having Nick’s kids about won’t make any decision of hers harder.”
“I don’t think it can be any harder, Mum,” I said, my chest experiencing the familiar slice I’d become accustomed to over the years. “I’ll ring her and let her know. If she agrees can you let Doctor Brien know and have an appointment scheduled for her? I know it’s for her to organise, but I think she needs as much help as possible at the moment.”
“Of course. Text me with what she says.”
I said my goodbyes and phoned Katie, who agreed within seconds, her voice full of tears once more.
“Are you sure the housemate plus kids won’t be too much for you?” I said, feeling agitated and unsure myself.
“No,” she said. “I’ve just spoken with Nick and we’re going to speak more over the weekend. I know you’re referring to his twins but…”
I let the silence fall as thick as snow in the mountains. “You’re wanting to keep it – if you are.”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s all I can think about. Maybe being around the twins will change my mind.”
I laughed softly. “They won’t. They’re two gorgeous girls who are bubbly and curious and full of life. Nick’s on his own with them after their mother died,” I said.
“He doesn’t have any family?” Her voice was sympathetic. I liked Katie. Although the media had painted her to be not much more than arm candy for a wealthy man much older than her, she was a genuinely nice person who just happened to be beautiful.
“He’s got a brother, Killian, and his parents, but they live just outside of Dublin. They’re good people.”
They were. Killian was. And that was what broke my heart all the more.
Chapter Two
Killian
“No, that’s not meant for eating, Kitty,” I said, putting a finger into a sticky mouth and removing a piece of her dad’s newspaper. “Ouch!” The new tooth that Kitty had recently cut tested my finger and a little giggle emerged. “Nick, your daughter is clearly a cannibal.”
My brother laughed, his eyes fixed on the large screen TV, fingers battering a controller. He’d never gotten over his obsession with video games. His other daughter and Kitty’s twin, Margot, sat in the octagonal playpen, building towers of bricks and then knocking them down. “I starting them on self-defence. They were briefed to use you as a test before you got here.”
Kitty grabbed at my beard, which wasn’t really long enough to be grabbed and therefore hurt like fuck. “Not going there, Kits. Let’s put you with your sister.” I walked over to the playpen, placing her next to Margot who proceeded to smack her over the head with a toy brick. Kitty laughed. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down next to my brother, picking up my beer.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I said, as he paused his game. “Twins. By yourself.”
“I don’t have any choice,” Nick said. “Besides, you would think that ten years in the marines would give me some survival skills, although I didn’t manage to stop them from redecorating the wall in the guest bedroom this afternoon.”
I chuckled having seen the twins’ effort at mimicking Picasso already. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “No one will be using that room for a few weeks so you have time to get a decorator in.”
Nick shook his head. “Wrong.” He took a deep inhalation and a mouthful of beer. “You know the case your lady is working on?”
I pulled my face at his description of Claire. He was the only person who knew what had happened between us and how it had ended. “She’s not my lady.”
“No, but you still want her to be,” he said, casting an eye over to where the girls were playing quietly, which was always a concern. They were far less suspect when noisy. “Katie Worthington called me today to ask if I’d provide security as we agreed the other month. Which will be an easy job for a few weeks at least.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because Katie’s staying here.”
My head snapped round to Nick. “Whose little plan was that?”
“Claire’s,” he said. “Sort of. Apparently, Katie needs to lie low for a few weeks while papers are served and needs space to get her shit together. I have no further details than that. Marie asked if I would mind a house guest.”
I frowned, a loud bang sounding behind me. I didn’t jump, ten years in the Royal Navy Marines had stopped loud noises having any affect, which was a huge positive given the state some of my comrades had come out in.
“Margot! Do not hit your sister!” Nick stood up, six feet four inches towering over the playpen. A tiny chuckle replied. “And don’t try looking cute because it doesn’t work!”
I laughed. “Damn right it does. Every goddamn time. What are you going to do when they’re older?”
“Send them to an all girls’ boarding school where they have retired sergeants on the doors and windows to stop them escaping.”
“I notice you thought about the retired.”
“Do you remember what we were like when we were in our early twenties and on leave?”
“Manwhores.” I’d slept with anything with tits and a pulse, desperately trying to get Claire out of my system. After leaving the marines, I’d managed a couple of semi-serious relationships but neither had been strong enough to make me work at them when things had started to go south.
“Exactly,” Nick said. “Or I could have two towers built like in that fairy tale they’re obsessed with. Only I’d keep their hair short.”
“Rapunzel?”
He nodded. “It’s a good plan. I’m sure I could buy a plot of land in the middle of the moors somewhere. Add a few wild bears.” He took another slug of beer. “You know Claire’s here too this weekend?”
I stared at the label on the bottle advertising the small microbrewery where it was made. “I figured she would be. I think she’s one of the bridesmaids.” I couldn’t describe seeing her as torture, because although it came with a shit ton of hurt, even after thirteen years of being dumped with no explanation or conversation, I still loved being around her, seeing her. Verbally fighting with her. She challenged me like no one else ever had.
“Do you not think you need to have it out with her? I think thirteen years is a long enough period of time for you both to have cooled off,” Nick said, pulling Margot out of the pen and passing her to me. “Pulling hair is not okay,” he said to his daughter. Margot buried her head in my chest.
“No,” I said. “That would be like getting a stick and poking a snake with super powers.”
A knock at the door sounded at the same time as Nick’s iPad made a noise. He glanced at it before looking at me, his security system clearly working. “Speak of the devil and it doth appear,” he muttered. “Fancy getting the door? It’s Claire and my new housemate.”
I carried Margot, whose hands were now pulling my hair, down the hallway. Female voices were muffled by the door but I would’ve been able to identify one of them even if it had been muffled through ten doors.
“Hello, ladies,” I said as I ushered them in. The light of the late summer evening was dwindling, red skies promising a better day than the rain filled one
we’d had today. Margot spun round to stare at Claire and her client.
“Hi,” the blonde woman said. “I’m Katie.”
She gave me a beaming smile that looked as nervous as hell and I automatically wanted to find and maim the person who had made her shoulders stoop and caused her to be frightened. Considering she was using my company for protection, that could well happen. “I’m Katie.”
“I’m Killian,” I said. I reached for her bag but she shook her head.
“No, I can carry my stuff. You look like you have your hands full with your little girl.” Katie looked wide eyed at Margot, who with her big blue eyes and wild mess of curly white blonde hair was as pretty as they came, even though I was completely biased as her uncle.
“She’s my niece, and there’s another one who looks just the same in the lounge with her dad,” I said. “Drop your bag there and go through.” I gestured to the door leading off the hall where my brother had now appeared, Kitty clinging to his legs.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Nick O’Hara. Welcome to the place that is run by two small blonde dictators. I apologise for everything in advance.” One look and he had turned on the charm: my brother was an ass when it came to a pretty woman and Katie was just that.
I turned back around to see Claire standing in the doorway, her eyes flicking between me and Margot. “Hi,” I said, taking her in. She was small, barely five-foot-three and more than a foot shorter than me, and petite framed. Narrow shoulders, narrow hips and a waist than I could span with my hands. Her hair was in its usual dark bob with a thick fringe and she had huge brown doe eyes that I couldn’t hold for too long without falling.
“She’s grown,” Claire said, stepping inside and closing the door.