Red Dagger

by H G Lynch

As I walked toward home, going as slowly as I possibly could, I thought about the way she’d looked at me when I’d asked her if she was attracted to me. Her honey-bronzed eyes had gone to my mouth, a flush creeping up her cheeks, and it had taken every ounce of restraint I had not to kiss her right there and then. Part of me wished she’d said no, that she had no interest in me whatsoever. That would almost be easier to take than knowing that we could have each other if only my brother weren’t standing in the way.

  The other part of me, the selfish part that usually ruled me, was thrilled that she’d said yes. That part was the one screaming at me to go back to her house right then, take her in my arms, and kiss her as if my life depended on it, to make her forget all about Angus, to make her gasp my name on a moan.

  God, I was a bastard, I really was. But I was determined not to let her see that.

  It was time I gave Angus a kick up the arse. He needed to see what was right in front of him and grab it before it slipped past him.

  ** Islay **

  I spent all day Monday avoiding Ruairidh’s gaze and trying to ignore the posters for the End of Year Dance plastered over every frickin’ wall in the building. It was only a couple of weeks away, and Dad had promised that he’d be home to take care of Peter, so I could go this year. Last year, I hadn’t gone because I’d been at the hospital with Dad and my stepmother, Jayne. She’d been pregnant with Peter then, and after a trip down the stairs, was worried she’d miscarried. Dad had rushed her to the hospital and I didn’t think I could enjoy myself at a dance while there was a possibility Jayne could lose the baby, I had gone along with them.

  So I’d never been to the End of Year Dance, and I was excited to go. Except, I didn’t have a date, and with everyone still whispering about me and Ruairidh, I wasn’t sure showing up to the dance at all was a good idea.

  Still, I was half hoping Angus would ask me. I didn’t even think about Ruairidh—he’d made it clear he wasn’t the date-dance sort of guy, and even if he had been, I shouldn’t have even considered going to the dance with him. Just thinking it made me feel as if, somehow, I was cheating on Angus. I had to remind myself, there was no betrayal in it because I didn’t plan on acting on the thoughts, and anyway, Angus didn’t have a claim on me. Not yet, anyway.

  Ruairidh had said Angus was in love with me, but I was sure he was overstating it. I was starting to wonder if Angus actually even liked me that way at all. There had been no real sign of it since our almost-kiss, and that had been weeks before. Sure, he’d been aggressively jealous of his brother spending time with me, but I figured that had more to do with Ruairidh than me.

  As the week wore on, Angus showed no sign of planning to ask me to the dance, and I began to grow less and less excited with the idea of going at all. I didn’t want to go alone. Ashley had a date, a boy from Psychology had asked her, and she was over the moon about it. Niall, the guy who’d asked her, was a nice guy, cute, and apparently knew his way around a guitar.

  I was happy for Ash, I was, but I would have been happier if I wasn’t feeling so lonely.

  By Saturday, with just under a week to go until the dance, I was miserable and seriously reconsidering going to the dance. We’d been doing exams for the last three weeks, but they were over. I’d barely even thought about them, too wrapped up in the drama with the boys, but I was pretty sure I’d passed everything.

  A distant part of me, the part that normally took pride in my tutoring students, hoped Ruairidh had passed Maths. It had occurred to me that since the exams were over, he no longer needed tutoring, which meant I had no excuse to see him. Not that I should have wanted to see him outside of school. God, I really needed to sort out my feelings. I needed to get a grip.

  Still, when there was a knock on the front door on Saturday afternoon, my heart leapt in excitement, and I rushed to the door. I flung it open, expecting Ruairidh to be standing there with his smug smirk and some excuse as to why he’d come to see me—but it wasn’t Ruairidh.

  “Angus? What’re you doing here?”

  He made a face. “Expecting someone else, Iz?” His tone was bitter, and I wondered if I was that obvious.

  I shook my head. “No, of course not. I just . . . you normally call first. You surprised me is all.”

  He gave me a look that said he wasn’t buying that. “Uh huh.”

  I was getting really tired of his attitude lately. I missed the old Angus, the one who smiled a lot and was never snappy or sarcastic with me. “What do you want, Angus?” I asked tersely, so not in the mood for his jealousy.

  He rubbed a hand over his face, scrubbing away the hostility in his features. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Iz. I’m just stressed out. I shouldn’t be snapping at you. It’s not your fault. Look, can I come in for a sec?”

  My annoyance was slightly eased by his apology, so I stepped aside to let him in. I followed him into the living room, and he glanced around, rocking on his heels uneasily. “Is Peter taking a nap?” he asked.

  “He’s next door with Mrs Wallis.”

  “Oh.”

  He chewed his lip, his eyes darting around the room, never settling on me, and I got the feeling he was trying to stall. He was nervous about whatever he was there for, and a spark of hope lit up in my chest. Maybe he was there to ask me to the dance after all.

  The thought made my nerves jitter, and I bit back a smile.

  Angus took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for something difficult, and then said, “Look, Islay. I just . . . I wanted to . . . .”

  “Yeah?” I whispered.

  “I wanted to apologise. For the other day, in the canteen. I was out of order. It’s none of my business who you want to . . . be with.”

  He looked as if he was swallowing a bug as he said that, but he went on, my heart dropping like a stone as I realised he wasn’t asking me to the dance at all.

  “I shouldn’t have been angry with you. I just . . . I guess I thought maybe we had something . . . but I was being selfish.”

  I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Why? Why was he doing this? Was this because of Ruairidh? I hadn’t even spoken to Ruairidh all week! And this, what Angus was saying, sounded an awful lot as if he was giving up on us before we even started.

  I was almost certain he could hear my heart cracking in half, and I reached for him. “Angus . . . .”

  He shook his head, stepping away from me. “No, it’s okay. It’s . . . it’s better if we’re just friends. That’s all I wanted to say. So . . . bye.” Before I could stop him, he whirled around and left, slamming the front door behind him and leaving me stunned.

  Tears pooled in my eyes, and I sat down hard on the edge of the sofa, wondering why this had to be so difficult.

  Before I could totally break down, there was another knock at the door, and I stormed over and threw it open. “Dammit, Angus, you— Oh.”

  “What’s wrong?” was the first thing Ruairidh asked, his brow furrowed as he saw the tears in my eyes.

  Sniffling, I quickly wiped them away. “What are you doing here? You don’t need tutoring anymore. The exams are over.”

  “Islay, look at me,” he said softly, his voice compelling.

  I flicked my watery eyes to his, and he frowned.

  “You’re crying. What happened?”

  I laughed bitterly. What had happened? He’d walked into my life, and now Angus was trying to walk out, taking a slice of my heart with him. “Your brother just left. Did you two plan this, or is it just coincidence that you both decide to fuck with my head in the same day?” I snapped, distantly aware that I was doing what Angus had just done to me—snapping at the wrong person just because I was upset. But I didn’t care. Ruairidh could take it. This was partly his fault anyway.

  Ruairidh scowled. “What did he do?” he asked, his voice gone hard as a stone.

  The anger on his face was enough to make me take a step back, and I was glad it wasn’t directed at me. As pissed off as I was at Angus, I didn’t want Ruairidh beating hi
s head in, not over me, so I just said, “Nothing. Just forget about it, Ruairidh. Please.”

  He set his jaw, and I knew he wouldn’t be forgetting about it.

  Sniffling, I pulled myself together and tried to distract him. “You haven’t told me why you’re here.”

  Ruairidh shrugged. “I just got ungrounded.”

  “And . . . the first place you decided to come was to see me?”

  He tilted his head as if he was thinking about it. Then he frowned. “I didn’t really think about it. I guess I’m just used to coming here on Saturdays.” For a second, he wore the same lost look I’d seen right after his fistfight with Angus.

  I knew I shouldn’t, but I stepped back and opened the door wider. “Well, since you’re here, you might as well come in.”

  He looked faintly surprised as he stepped inside, and I shut the door behind him. I wondered if he’d really expected me to send him away, and then thought—of course he had. He knew he shouldn’t be there as much as I knew I should have sent him away. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not after Angus’s visit. It was probably selfish of me, but I didn’t want to be alone to wallow in my misery, and Ruairidh made a very good distraction.

  He followed me into the living room and hovered by the fireplace. After seeing Angus standing there, it occurred to me how much more space that Ruairidh took up. Not just because he was taller and more muscled, but there was something about his presence that meant he didn’t just stand; he loomed. With his dangerous aura, black tattoos, and dark clothes, he was so out of place against the cream-coloured walls and neat, homely furniture. The room felt smaller with him in it, and without the buffer of Peter in the house, I was suddenly very aware of how completely alone we were.

  Swallowing the butterflies trying to crawl up my throat from my stomach, I watched him run his fingers along the edge of a framed photo of me and my dad. His expression was hard to read, but it wasn’t hard to guess that he was thinking about his own father.

  To distract us both from our thoughts, I asked, “So, are you going to the dance next week?”

  He flashed me his trademark smirk, and replied, “Why, are you angling for an invite?”

  I snorted. God, yes, I thought. “As if,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “But you want to go, right?”

  “Me? Want to dress up in a stupid dress, wear stupid make-up, and go to a stupid dance with some stupid guy?” I scoffed.

  “You’re dying to go, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, a little bit,” I admitted.

  Ruairidh grinned, and I sighed.

  “At least, I did want to go, before . . .”

  He titled his head. “Before what?”

  “Before the rumours. Before Ash had a date. Before Angus . . . .” I rubbed my forehead. “Before Angus decided we should just be friends. I was hoping he’d ask me to the dance but, no. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s turned into such a . . . .”

  “Dickhead? Douche? Arsehole?” Ruairidh suggested helpfully.

  I nodded. “Sure, take your pick.”

  Ruairidh shook his head, looking irritated. “He’s an idiot. I told him to quit pussyfooting around and just ask you. But what does he do? He does the opposite.” He made a sound of disgust.

  I stared at him. “You . . . told him to ask me?”

  He looked away and shrugged. “Like I said before, he likes you. You’d be good together. But I guess he’s too fucking chicken-shit to man up and admit he’s in love with you.”

  Ruairidh’s expression was thundercloud dark, and I suspected he and Angus were going to be having a long, possibly violent chat when Ruairidh got home.

  Oddly, the thought made me smile a little bit. Not because I wanted either of them to get hurt, but because Ruairidh cared enough to be pissed off about his brother being a dick to me.

  But my smile didn’t last long, and I slumped back on the sofa cushions. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just that I’ve never been to a dance before – I never thought I’d want to. I skipped prom because my mum…it wasn’t long after she passed away. I just really thought I’d get to go this time. I even bought a dress and everything. Everyone else goes to them, and I just . . . wanted to see what it would be like.”

  Ruairidh gaped at me, his eyebrows rising toward his hairline. “You’ve never been to a dance? Seriously?”

  I shrugged. “I usually have something more important to be doing. Dad promised I could go this time. But really, I probably wouldn’t have any fun anyway.” Because I’d be sitting in a corner on my own, while people whispered about me, and trying not to think about Angus.

  Ruairidh raked a hand though his messy black hair, and swore under his breath, “Fuck it.”

  He turned and fixed his eyes on me, making my pulse jump.

  “You’re going to the dance,” he said, and it wasn’t a request; it was a command.

  I shook my head anyway. “No, really, I’m not. It’s fine. There’ll be other dances, and anyway, I don’t even have anyone to go with—”

  “Yes, you do. You can go with me.”

  My words dried up, though my lips kept moving, and I floundered like a fish under his penetrating stare. A flush crept up my face. Did he just say . . . ? Yes. Yes, he did.

  Seeing the look on my face, some of his harsh confidence faded, and he cleared his throat. “I mean, if you want to, that is. I can understand if you’d rather not . . . I mean . . . shit.”

  Is he blushing? Oh my God.

  I kind of wanted to laugh, but I was afraid it might offend him. Instead, I nodded eagerly. “No, no. I . . . I’d like that. To go to the dance . . . with you.” I was fighting a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, and I had to look down to hide it from him. I knew he was just offering because he felt bad for me, and I didn’t want him to think I was expecting more than that. But I couldn’t help it. I had a date for the dance, with the hottest guy in school. A guy who made my heart race, put butterflies in my stomach, and made me want things and feel things I’d never wanted or felt before.

  At that moment, I couldn’t care less about Angus, what he would say, or what he would think when he found out his brother had asked me to the Dance.

  For a minute, Ruairidh looked shocked that I’d actually agreed to go with him, but he masked it quickly with an indifferent expression. “Sure. Cool. Good. Um, I should probably go. Angus will be looking for me and—”

  “Ruairidh,” I called as he headed for the front door.

  He paused and glanced back warily, as if he expected me to say I’d changed my mind already. “Yeah?”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  He frowned, his eyes turning dark and serious. “Don’t thank me, Islay. This is probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.”

  Before I could ask him what he meant, he was out the door.

  ** Ruairidh **

  I lingered for a moment on Islay’s doorstep, trying to catch my breath. My heart was pounding as if I’d just faced down a Blaze Demon, and I felt breathless. Shit. Why the hell was I shaking? I’d faced down evil monsters without breaking a sweat, but asking a pretty girl to the dance made me into a knotted, nervous mess? What the hell?

  I blew out a breath and closed my eyes, tipping my face up to the clouded sky, and thought, Angus is going to kill me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ** Islay **

  Everyone, on Monday, was talking about Friday’s dance, and for once, it didn’t make me miserable. I didn’t feel like an outsider, like a loser, because I couldn’t go. I was just as excited as everyone else, maybe even more because it was my first time going. I had my dress hanging on my wardrobe door at home, ready to go. It was a beautiful slip of silver-blue fabric that brushed my ankles and split up the left side to just above my knee. I’d bought it with money I’d made from a few odd weekend jobs here and there. I’d also splashed out and bought silver shoes to go with the dress, and a grey shawl to cover my shoulders, since the dress was strapl
ess.

  During Psychology, Ash sat next to me and yattered on about Niall, and how sweet he was, and how he was having a party at his house that weekend to kick off the summer holidays ‘properly,’ as in with booze. The convention centre didn’t allow alcohol at the Dance.

  I smiled and nodded along, but I wasn’t really listening. I was too busy wondering what Ruairidh would look like in a suit—or if he’d even wear one. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up at the dance wearing his usual black t-shirt and ripped jeans. What I did know, though, was that he would be the sexiest guy there, no matter what he wore.

  A little part of me felt guilty for agreeing to go with him. I didn’t even know if Angus was going to the dance, and I felt an obscure pang at the thought of him dancing with some other girl. I felt even worse when I thought of him staying home all night while I danced with his brother.

  “Hey, Islay.”

  I jerked at the sound of my name, pulled abruptly from my reverie, and looked up. Justin Lakewood, a guy I’d spoken to a little in Secondary School, was standing by my desk, looking uncomfortable. I glanced around, and found that, for once, nobody was staring at me—or us. They were all distracted with their own conversations about the dance.

  I smiled at Justin, wondering if he wanted to borrow a pencil, since he had a habit of losing his. “Hey, Justin. What’s up?”

  He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his tie. He was always a little nervous, but he was nice enough. He was friends with Niall, Ash’s date for the dance. His brown eyes flicked to mine. “Um, I was just wondering if . . . well, if you were going to the dance this year? I mean, if you are, I thought maybe . . . you know, we could go together. If you want?”

  I blinked, and Ash gasped beside me, nudging my arm. I ignored her, blushing. “Oh. Um. I’d like to go with you, Justin, I really would but . . . I actually sort of already have a date for the dance.”

  He looked disappointed, and I felt a twinge of sympathy. I knew how it felt to be rejected by someone you liked. I was still angry with Angus.