Red Dagger

by H G Lynch

  “Oh. Okay. Do you mind if I ask who you’re going with then?”

  Ashley nudged me again, digging her elbow into my ribs, and I could feel her wide eyes on me, desperate to hear my answer. I hadn’t told her I was going to the dance with Ruairidh yet. I’d only said I’d be seeing her there. I cleared my throat and tried to sound casual as I said, “Ruairidh asked me.”

  Ashley choked, and Justin looked at me with a little bit of fear. “Oh,” he whispered. “Okay. Sorry.” He quickly walked back to his desk.

  I wondered if everyone was really so afraid of Ruairidh that I had just become untouchable.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the dance with Ruairidh?” Ashley hissed in my ear.

  I waved her off. “I was going to. I just forgot.”

  She gave me a glare that let me know she wasn’t buying that. Of course not. Ash could always tell when I was lying, and I’d barely stopped thinking about going to the dance with Ruairidh since he asked me.

  “Yeah right,” she muttered.

  I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. He only asked me because I had nobody else to go with.”

  “What about Angus?” she murmured, eyeing me from behind her glasses.

  I felt my expression harden, and Ash’s eyes widened. “Angus didn’t ask me.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  I rolled my eyes. Was that the word of the day or something? I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  She nodded, suddenly solemn, and we spent the rest of the class separated by our own thoughts.

  It didn’t take long for word to spread that I was going to the dance with Ruairidh, and I cursed Justin for not keeping his mouth shut. Thankfully, neither of the boys were in my afternoon classes. I could only assume Angus had heard the word going around, and he was probably pissed as hell—not that he had any right to be. He was the one who’d backed off from me. It was his own fault his brother had the guts to ask me out.

  Still, I wasn’t surprised when I left my last class of the day and found Angus waiting for me in the hallway, looking coldly furious. Other students gave him a wide berth and lingered as long as possible in the hopes of witnessing the coming argument.

  Before Angus could start yelling, I took his arm and whispered, “Can we please do this without an audience this time?”

  His jaw was set like a rock, but he jerked his head once without meeting my eyes. He stayed silent as we walked side-by-side out of the building and all the way to his house, my nerves growing with every step. My skin was buzzing with the anger coming off him. For the first time ever, I was a little afraid of Angus.

  Finally, we reached his front garden, and I took a deep breath. “Okay, look—” I started in my most reasonable voice, but Angus whipped around and his glare shut me right up, stealing the breath from my lungs. He didn’t say a word. Stung by the fury in his eyes, I whispered, “Please, Angus.”

  His eyes twitched, and he gritted his teeth. “Please what, Islay? Please give you my blessing? Give you my permission to go and fuck my brother? What were you thinking?”

  I flinched. “I . . . .”

  “Don’t answer that. I don’t care. I thought you were better than this, Islay! God, I can’t even say I’m surprised! Ruairidh always gets what he wants, and he doesn’t give a shit if it hurts me. But you! I thought you were my best friend! How could you do this to me?”

  “Angus—”

  He raked his hands though his hair. “Fuck. I love you, Islay! I fucking love you, and you go behind my back with my own brother!”

  I gasped, feeling as if he’d punched me in the chest. Tears burned in my eyes, and I tried to breathe around the hurt crushing my chest. I closed my eyes, choking. He said it. He finally said he loves me . . . and it’s too late. It’s way too late.

  Suddenly, I was furious at him. How dare he say that to me after he told me we should just be friends? How dare he yell at me because I wanted to go to the dance, and Ruairidh was the only person who would take me? Where did he get off telling me who I could and couldn’t go to the dance with? I wasn’t his fucking pet. He didn’t have a leash on me, didn’t have a claim. If he’d said those words to me two weeks before, I’d have been thrilled. But now? Now, I just wanted to punch him in the face.

  The rage built up inside me until I couldn’t hold it back anymore, and I screamed at him. “Really, Angus? You love me? That’s bullshit! If you really loved me, you would have asked me to the dance first! And guess what? I would have said yes! If you’d just manned up and asked me first, I’d have gone with you! But now it’s too late, and you have no right to be pissed at me for going with Ruairidh because at least he had the balls to ask me, so I wouldn’t have to go to the dance alone!”

  Angus stared at me as if I’d just kicked him in the nuts, his face pale and pinched with pain, but I was too angry to feel guilty.

  I ignored the tears running down my face, and choked, “I waited for you to ask me, Angus. I waited and waited . . . and you didn’t ask! What else was I supposed to do? I wasn’t going to miss the dance just because you were too scared to ask me to go with you, and I know you hate your brother for whatever fucked-up reason . . . but I don’t hate him, Angus. I know Ruairidh isn’t perfect, but neither are you, no matter what everyone else believes! I want to go to the dance with Ruairidh!”

  “Oh, shit.”

  My head jerked up, and I saw Ruairidh standing on the porch, the door open behind him as if he’d just come to see what all the yelling was about. His gaze flickered between Angus and me, and I blushed, wondering how much of the argument he’d heard.

  His expression hardened, and he asked in that cold voice that made all the guys back off, “What’s going on?”

  At the sight of him, my heart soared, and then freefell, because he and Angus were eyeing each other as if they were ready to fight. I sniffled and cleared my throat to call out, “It’s nothing, Ruairidh. Go back inside.”

  He didn’t budge. Didn’t take his gaze off Angus. “I asked, what is going on here, Angus?”

  Angus locked his jaw, and without looking at me again, he stormed up the porch steps and paused next to Ruairidh. He turned his head and said something to his brother in a low voice before barging past him and slamming the front door hard enough to make me jump.

  On the porch, Ruairidh had gone pale, his eyes closed as if in pain, and I wondered what the hell Angus had said to him. I wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t move. I was rooted to the pavement, a blizzard of emotions raging inside me, and tears going cold on my cheeks. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t believe I’d said those things to Angus, that he’d yelled at me like that. Oh God, I thought, feeling like I might throw up.

  “Islay? Are you okay?” Ruairidh’s voice was right to me, and I flinched in surprise, stumbling back a step.

  I looked up at him through blurred, watery eyes, and whispered, “Not really.”

  He swore. “Look, I’m sorry, Islay. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I knew Angus would be pissed when he found out about the dance, but I didn’t think he’d take it out on you.”

  I was too numb and tired all of a sudden to bother telling him it wasn’t his fault. So I just nodded and hugged my arms around myself. He sighed. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

  By the time we got to my house, the tears had dried on my face. I felt numb and hollow inside, and exhausted on the outside. Screaming matches followed by crying jags took their toll, I guess. My head was thumping, my eyes were itchy, and I just wanted a long, hot bath and then my bed.

  Ruairidh was quiet during the walk, looking as if he was seriously contemplating fratricide. I let him stew, lost in my own sluggish thoughts, replaying Angus’s words and the hurt, angry look on his face over and over.

  It wasn’t until we were standing on my front porch that Ruairidh finally spoke. “Islay? Islay, look at me please.”

  When I didn’t obey, he took my chin gently between his forefinger and thumb and tilt
ed my face toward him until his eyes connected with mine. Even as distraught and upset as I was, I couldn’t help but notice how very green his eyes were—the colour of pine needles against a snow-white background.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? If you want to cancel for the dance . . . I’ll understand.”

  “No,” I said instantly. “No. I’m going to the dance.”

  His brows creased. “You could always go with someone else. I heard Justin asked you. Maybe you should go with him.”

  My heart sank. I was an idiot. “You don’t want to go with me anymore, do you?”

  His eyes widened. “No. I mean, yes. God, Islay, of course I want to go with you. I just . . . I don’t want you to be miserable. If you go to the dance with me, there’s a chance Angus won’t ever talk to either of us again, and the rumours . . . .”

  “I don’t care about Angus, or the rumours. I want to go to the dance with you, Ruairidh. I know you’re just taking me because you feel bad for me not having anyone else to go with, but . . . . I like you, Ruairidh. You’re . . . you’re not as bad as Angus made you out to be.”

  Ruairidh shook his head. “You are either blind or stupid if you really think I’m only taking you to the dance because I feel bad for you. I’m not that kind of guy, Islay. I am a selfish bastard, and I only do things for people when I think I can get something from them in return.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I whispered, “So what do you want from me?”

  His eyes flared, and his palm slid along my cheek, rough with calluses from practising with his sword. “Everything. I want everything from you, Islay. If you can’t handle that, tell me now, and we’ll call it quits on all of this.”

  I swallowed, my pulse fluttering madly. The heat in his eyes left no doubt about what he meant. I wasn’t sure I was ready to give him . . . that. But the way he looked at me made me want to give him everything. He was so, so dangerous, and for once, I wanted a little bit of danger. I wanted to be free of my responsibilities for one night, and come the evening of the dance, I was determined to let it all go—maybe even including my virginity.

  I wasn’t stupid enough to think Ruairidh loved me, or that he would change if we had sex and become perfect boyfriend material. That wasn’t what I was expecting, nor was it what I wanted. I just wanted one night of freedom, and I knew Ruairidh could give me that in every single way.

  I met his shattering green gaze and said, “I can handle it.”

  He sucked in a breath and nodded. “Good,” he murmured. He leaned in and brushed his lips across my forehead in the gentlest of kisses. Then he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

  Surprised, I touched the spot he’d kissed, and felt the briefest hint of a smile tug at my mouth.

  ** Ruairidh **

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or kick myself. But god, I couldn’t believe Islay still wanted to go to the dance with me. I also couldn’t believe the look she’d given me when she’d told me she could “handle” whatever I wanted from her. I’d expected—and half hoped—that comment, and all the meaning behind it, would be enough to scare her away. I couldn’t afford to drag her down any further.

  I’d already fucked up her friendship with Angus and caused rumours to start flying about her around school. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to be sticking around. It was well past time for me to get my ass in gear and start seriously hunting the demon that killed my dad. I shouldn’t have even stayed that long.

  But damn, that girl was under my skin, and the fact that she wasn’t scared of me? That she wanted me? Yeah. That was something I couldn’t walk away from. Not this time.

  Which meant I was screwed, and one way or another, I was going to end up hurting her. It was just what I did. Who I was. I got what I wanted, and I left ruins behind. It had always been that way. I was the destroyer, while Angus was the one to put the pieces back together. Except, not this time. He’d lost his sheen of perfection, and even though it made me a bastard, I was glad. I was glad that Islay had seen the other side of Angus, the side nobody but I had seen since we were kids. I was glad she’d seen slices of my other side too, the side I never let show. She’d seen us both at our worst, and she’d still chosen me over him.

  So no, I wasn’t walking away from Islay, no matter what it would cost us both in the end. I was just that selfish.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ** Islay **

  I took a long nap after Ruairidh dropped me off at my front door, feeling as if I’d shatter into a million pieces at the slightest provocation unless I got some rest. When I woke up, it was dark outside my bedroom window, and my bedside clock informed me that it was just after nine at night. I’d slept half the day away, not that anyone could blame me, after the kind of day I’d had.

  Yawning and feeling a little less brittle, I dragged myself down the stairs and into the kitchen to satisfy my grumbling stomach. I was still wiping the sleep from my tear-swollen eyes when I almost bumped into Dad in the middle of the kitchen doorway. As tired and befuddled as I was, it took me a moment to register that he was home early, and he was glaring at me with parental anger.

  “Where have you been, Islay?” he asked, his voice tense.

  I could tell he was trying not to yell. Dad never yelled at me—ever. My brow furrowed. “Sleeping. I had a headache when I got in, so I went to take a nap.”

  “Oh, really? And what about your baby brother? Mrs Wallis was half out of her mind when you didn’t come to get him, and you weren’t answering the door! She thought something had happened to you so she called me!” he barked.

  I blinked and my hand flew to my mouth. Oh my God. I’d completely forgotten about Peter. Normally, he stayed with Mrs Wallis during the day when I was at school. I usually picked him up from her house when I got home, but between the argument with Angus and the discussion with Ruairidh, I hadn’t even thought about my baby brother.

  “Oh my God, Dad, I’m so sorry! I had a really bad day, and by the time I got home, I was so out of it, I just totally forgot! I can’t believe I did that!” Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I swore under my breath. It seemed as if I couldn’t stop crying lately, and I was starting to annoy myself. Christ, what was wrong with me?

  Dad crossed his arms over his wrinkled work shirt and gave me a disapproving stare over the rim of his glasses. Suddenly, I felt as if I was five years old again, when I’d broken a neighbour’s window playing football with some boys from down the street. I shrivelled up inside, hating that I’d disappointed Dad, that I’d made him and Mrs Wallis worry, that I’d made him come home from work early, and that I’d forgotten about my eight month old baby brother!

  Finally, seeing that I was close to complete meltdown into waterworks, Dad sighed and put his arm around my shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”

  I clung to his shirt, soaking up the scent of his Aramis aftershave, and sniffled. “Angus and I had a fight. He’s not talking to me anymore.”

  He patted my back. “Oh, honey. What was the fight about?”

  I sniffled again, stalling. I didn’t want to tell my dad that I’d fought with my best friend over the fact I was going to the dance with his brother. After a moment, I said, “I don’t even know anymore. It was something stupid, but he got really angry, and then I got angry, and I shouted at him, and I said some really horrible things.”

  “Shh. It’s okay, honey. It’ll be okay. You and Angus have been best friends forever. You’ll work it out. Just . . . give him some time to calm down. You two can never stay mad at each other for long.”

  I nodded against his chest, wishing it were that easy. But I didn’t think Angus was going to “calm down” any time soon.

  Dad kissed the top of my head. “I’m still mad at you for forgetting about Peter, but now that you’ve told me why, I won’t ground you. But you will have to stay home Friday night and look after him. Since I left work early tonight, I’ll have to make up the extra time, so I’ll be working late that
night.”

  I pulled away and stared at him. “But. . . Friday is the night of the dance! You promised I could go!”

  He gave me a hard look. “That was before I had to come running home in a panic, worried that you’d seriously injured yourself or been abducted, and found you’d left poor Mrs Wallis in a tizzy, dealing with Peter.”

  “But . . . .”

  “No buts, Islay. You’re lucky I’m not grounding you. Now get something to eat and go to bed. You’ve got class tomorrow.”

  I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to beat my fists against his chest and wail. It was so unfair! My one chance to go to the dance with a guy I liked, a guy who liked me, and he was telling me I couldn’t go. What hurt even worse? My argument with Angus had been for nothing.

  Holding back the anger and tears, I muttered, “I’m not hungry.”

  I spun around and ran out of the kitchen, pounding up the stairs. I slammed my bedroom door shut as I threw myself onto my bed and sobbed into my pillows. I screamed into them, pounding them with my fists, like a child throwing a tantrum.

  I didn’t care. I couldn’t believe it. Angus hated me, and it was all for nothing. I’d wanted so badly to go to the dance with Ruairidh. Hell, I’d almost been ready to give him my virginity if he’d asked for it.

  Now, I’d be alone on the night of the dance, looking after my baby brother—again.

  ** Ruairidh **

  Angus was avoiding me again. In fact, not even avoiding me because that would’ve meant acknowledging my existence. He was pretending I was invisible. He wouldn’t even look at me when I walked into a room. He always made some excuse to leave the dinner table as fast as possible, so he wouldn’t have to sit across from me.

  It was easier at school for him to ignore my existence, though we were in a lot of the same classes. I barely even saw him—he shot out of every class like someone had lit a fire under his ass, and I noticed it wasn’t just me he was giving the cold shoulder. Islay, too, was on the frosty side, and I could tell she was miserable about it. All through Maths, she sent Angus hurt, pining looks, and if I had been a lesser man, it might have pissed me off. Instead, all I felt was guilt, and a decent dose of shame too. This was my fault, but I couldn’t see a way of fixing it, not if Angus was ignoring us both.