If We Could Go Back, page 23
I’m sorry, Kieran.
Oh, it was going to be that kind of day.
For the past few months, I’d gone back and forth between regretting what I’d said and…thinking I hadn’t been blunt enough. Today, I was full of regret.
I couldn’t think of a time in my life I had been this conflicted. I was constantly pulled between what I felt and what I logically thought. I couldn’t get my heart to understand what my brain told me. I knew Kieran. I knew he had good intentions. I knew he wasn’t a coward. I knew he wanted what was best for those he loved. And yet…
But my hurt had a valid point. He was going about things the wrong way. He was protecting people’s feelings and ignorance where it wasn’t deserved. In my opinion. And then my brain chimed in again. You didn’t grow up with his family. You don’t know how much they’ve done for him.
“Fuck,” I exhaled exhaustedly. Back and forth, back and forth.
The house was empty, so I had only Duke to distract myself with. After my shower, I took him for a long walk and watched the rest of the town wake up. Then I dropped Duke off with my father before I took the car and got ready for a day in traffic.
I had meetings in Seattle all day, plus a lunch with my sister.
My early start did cut me some slack, however. The traffic wasn’t as bad as it usually was, though I still bitched to myself about Amtrak closing the express train. Again, I didn’t envy Kieran and Allison who went through this every—
“Dammit,” I said, pulling out my phone. I’d forgotten to call Allison. A text would have to suffice now. She was at work, and my first meeting was in ten minutes.
Reminding you that Jess has a dentist appointment tomorrow at ten, and Nate wants help with his science project. Which means he’s insecure about it, so please tell him you’re proud of him and that the teacher will recognize his progress.
She replied as I entered the restaurant.
Can you take Jess? I can’t leave the city that early. I know how to help Nathan, Bennett. You don’t have to feed me lines.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered under my breath. The hostess greeted me, and I told her my name and that I had a reservation for two under Brooks. She showed me toward my table, and I responded to Allison again.
It’s your week, Allison. I can’t cover for you every bloody time. I’ll figure something out with Jess tomorrow, but you must start putting our sons first.
When I had lunch with Brianna later, I got to vent some of my frustrations to her. Allison was another topic that made me torn. She was making more of an effort in front of the kids; she was more present these days. But the minute they were an inconvenience and got in the way of her work, I had to jump in.
“Not to be a dick, but her boyfriend is almost better with the boys,” I said around a mouthful of pasta.
“Frank, was that his name?”
I nodded. “I’ve only met him twice, but he seems like a good bloke.” Jess was fonder of him than Nate was, but my eldest was finicky. The important thing was that Frank understood the children came first, and it brought me some comfort every time the boys came home with a funny anecdote that involved Frank. It was all I wanted, for them to have a grown-up they could turn to when I wasn’t there. No more, no less. “Anyway. How are you preparing for, what was it you called it, your last birthday?”
She rolled her eyes at my smirk. “I’d rather not discuss it, thank you very much. Jess’s birthday is a much better subject.”
I chuckled. The fact that Jess turned ten in just a few weeks was definitely a topic worth discussing, because Allison and I were throwing him a big party in my backyard. Well, she was in charge of decorations, at least. But my sister’s thirty-ninth birthday was something we hadn’t covered at all, including what she planned on doing that day.
“Come on. Where will we bring a gift?” I asked. “You coming up to Dad or—”
“I suppose we can do a dinner here,” she said, disinterested. “Chris has been asking too, but with the wedding planning, and work, and…ugh.”
I smiled. “You’re happy. You try to whine, but I see it.”
She gripped her fork a little tighter and raised her bitch brow.
I laughed.
She was too funny about her obvious hatred toward turning forty next year.
“When’s your next meeting?” She went for another topic change.
I grinned and wiped my mouth on a napkin, then withdrew my phone from my pocket. “In…” Holy shit. Twelve missed calls. Panic seized my chest. Had something happened to one of the boys— “What on earth?” Maggie had called me, of all people. Twelve freaking times. Oh God, Jaylin. I swallowed hard, worried all over again, and hit redial.
“Is something wrong?” Brianna asked, concerned.
“I don’t know yet.” I frowned.
Maggie answered with a hoarse, “Finally! I’ve been trying to call you for an hour, Bennett.”
“I know, I just saw—sorry, hon. I keep it on silent. What’s wrong?” I could hear she was crying, and I needed her to tell me what was wrong right fucking now. “Is it Jaylin?”
“It’s Kieran,” she sobbed, and my heart stopped. “That—that bastard!”
A breath gusted out of me, and I ran a hand through my hair. The frustration grew rapidly. If she called him a bastard, he must be safe. Right?
“He’s in Quincy,” she cried. “At the hospital.”
My fist hit the table with force as my patience ran out. Brianna jumped and put a hand to her chest.
“Tell me what happened,” I demanded. “Is he okay?”
Around me, I could see lunch guests glancing our way.
“You can go see him if you want,” Maggie snarled through her sobs. “He just ruined our family by telling his parents that he’s gay!”
“Jesus Christ,” I exhaled.
“Tell me what’s wrong.” Brianna reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, love. Is it one of the kids?”
I shook my head, dazed.
“Why’s he in the hospital, Maggie?” I forced out. To Brianna, I mouthed, “Kieran.”
“Oh.” Her lips formed the word.
Maggie continued weeping, only anger allowing her to push the words out. Or so it sounded. “His brothers put him there, of course. Did-did you know, Bennett? Did you know about K-Kieran?”
That’s what she— “That’s what you want to know?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s your greatest concern? Whether or not I knew Kieran was gay? For the love of God, Maggie—”
“He wrecked my family!” she screamed. I held the phone away and caught Brianna’s quizzical look. “I think he’ll survive a few stitches.”
Stitches wouldn’t put him in the hospital, and Kieran wouldn’t seek medical attention for anything minor.
“Text me the address of the hospital and any other information you might have,” I told Maggie. I was grateful my sister jumped into action and asked for the check. “Do you understand, Maggie?”
“I understand,” she cried. “No one cares about me.”
I suppressed a sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose.
My dad’s words came back to me. Sometimes we sacrificed ourselves. Sometimes we sacrificed others. Either way, someone was always going to suffer.
It was Maggie’s turn.
I handed over my credit card to the waiter and hung up the phone, then rambled anxiously to my sister about what I’d learned. Kieran’s in the hospital. Nausea churned in my gut, and I had to stop a few times to press a fist to my mouth. His brothers had abused him. I couldn’t believe it. In this day and age. They were his motherfucking family. Kieran’s in the hospital.
“Let’s step outside, darling.” Brianna ushered me out of the restaurant.
Hysteria crept higher. I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it.
The May sun shone down on us, and the street was crowded.
“Who does that?” I rasped. “For almost twenty fucking years, he’s kept that a secret to protect their goddamn bigotry.” The rage exploded within me, and I turned to the nearest brick wall and sent a fist flying straight into it.
“Bennett!”
“Who does that?” I yelled. “He’s their brother—their goddamn son!”
“Bennett!” Brianna hissed. “Oh my God, your hand.”
I didn’t feel anything but crippling fury, and I wanted to—I wanted to—hell. I screwed my eyes shut, dizzy, and bent over slightly. The pain hit me in pulsing waves, and I didn’t know what hurt the most—my hand or the image of Kieran. Oh God, I’d pushed him away. I’d made him feel guilty. I’d avoided him when he needed me the most.
“Fuck,” I whimpered.
I barely registered that Brianna was guiding me in between two buildings. Then she said something about being back soon. Tears welled up and spilled over. Kieran. That hurt the most. He was alone. He was in the hospital all the way across the country, and I didn’t know if he had anyone with him.
I had to get to him. I had to be with him. Maybe he needed me.
The clicking of heels alerted me to Brianna’s return.
“I told him I regretted we ever met.” My voice broke, and I turned away from the mouth of the alley where people flooded the sidewalk. “I pushed him away, Brianna.”
“Bennett, love, you have to pull it together,” she pleaded with me. “Your hand is broken.”
“I have to get to Boston,” I croaked.
She nodded and reached up to undo my tie. “A friend of mine has a clinic not far from here. Once your hand is taken care of, we’ll get you a ticket. Okay?”
I shook my head. “My hand can wait.” I was such a fucking idiot. “I…I…” Shit, I had to think straight. Priorities. Nate and Jess. Meetings— “I have to cancel my meetings and go home. Make arrangements for the boys.”
“Don’t be daft, little brother.” She wrapped my tie around my hand, and I winced at the sharp bolts of pain. Next, she tucked a Ziploc with ice in it underneath the temporary wrap. Did she go back to the restaurant for the ice pack? “Dad and I will take care of Nate and Jess. You’re going to get your hand fixed, then you wait at my place a few hours, and then you take the red-eye to Boston. You’ll be with him first thing in the morning. Don’t argue with me.”
I sniffled, and I didn’t argue with her.
Chapter 23
I arrived in Boston the following morning, bleary-eyed and with nothing but the clothes on my body, a bottle of painkillers, and a mind-numbing headache. Well…I had a new splint to my name too, attached around my wrist, stabilizing my whole hand up to my middle and ring fingers. Brianna’s doctor friend had taken me to get X-rays, revealing two fractures along my knuckles. I wasn’t allowed to use my hand for a while, and I was supposed to keep it elevated.
The last part wasn’t going so well. Neither was the first part, because I couldn’t open the bottle of meds one-handed.
And I probably shouldn’t have washed down two tablets with a vodka on the plane.
I hurried to the cabstand outside the airport and jumped in as soon as it was my turn.
“Quincy Medical Center,” I said, trying to open the pill bottle again.
The driver eyed me in the rearview. “There’re hospitals much closer, man.”
“It’s not for me.” Christ. I used my teeth and managed to get the cap off. “Please just go.”
This time, I downed two pills dry. Then all I could do was wait. I must’ve been a sorry sight. My suit didn’t look like it’d just come out of my closet, my tie was gone, my hair was a mess, I had shadows under my eyes, and the wrinkles of worry and annoyance were probably etched into my forehead permanently at this point.
The city of Boston disappeared from view, a city I’d come to know well by now. A city I actually loved but never had gotten the chance to enjoy. A city full of history and Kieran-related curiosities. How many times had I been in a cab toward Westwater Hotels headquarters, passed a bar, and wondered if Kieran had been there?
I’d since then learned that he didn’t get out of Quincy much growing up. When they went into the city, it was a special occasion. He’d mentioned his mother’s favorite restaurant was in the North End.
I’d had dinner in the North End many times, often wishing Kieran had been with me.
Now he was in the hospital.
And his phone was still dead, I confirmed as I dialed his number for the tenth time since yesterday.
Thank God for my sister. Not only had she taken the day off to be there for Nate and Jess, but she’d managed to wrestle some more information out of Maggie. I knew where Kieran was; he’d been moved to recovery as of sometime last night. Apparently, Maggie and Kieran’s mother were crying on each other’s shoulders over the phone. In turn, Kieran’s mother—who hadn’t been to see him—was getting her information from Grace. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was Kieran’s youngest sister, and I prayed she was on his side. Or hadn’t abandoned him.
Half an hour later, I was as restless as I was exhausted. My foot tapped rapidly as the driver entered hospital grounds, and I specifically told him the emergency room.
“I don’t want to end up in the maternity ward or something,” I muttered.
The driver hummed and made a turn, following the signs. “I think that closed. Years ago.”
Whatever, we’d made it. I looked out the window and figured this had to be it. Then I paid the cringe-worthy fare, cradled my injured hand close to me, and darted for the entrance.
I’d half expected a Friday-night type of cacophony. Instead, it was a Thursday morning, and I could walk straight up to the closest desk and ask where I could find Kieran Marshall.
Two nurses perked up, though one was buried in paperwork and charts. Another one helped me and asked about my relation to the patient.
“He’s my brother,” I lied.
Please don’t ask to see my driver’s license.
The nurse checked the computer. “He’s in recovery on the second floor. Elevators are over there—” she pointed to my left “—and he’s in room six.”
I nodded and thanked her, then hurried to the elevators.
Seconds felt like an eternity until I stood there, right outside his room, and stared at a door that didn’t have a window big enough so I could see him. I saw the foot of a bed, that was it.
Just go in.
Nerves tightened my stomach, and I took a deep breath. I opened the door and stepped inside, having no clue what to expect. To be in recovery, there had to be something to recover from. It couldn’t be cuts and scrapes. They would’ve just sent him home. Hell, he wouldn’t have come in the first place.
Each step closer to his bed revealed more of him. The drape between his bed and another was drawn. No one else was here—no other patient, no family. No beeping machines, thankfully.
I swallowed hard and took a punch to the gut when I saw his face. What did they do to you? I blinked back my emotions and cleared my throat quietly, not wanting to wake him up. Someone had tucked him in—maybe a nurse. How injured was he under that blanket? His face was partly swollen, with bruises dominating his right eye, his jaw, and one cheek. Butterfly bandages held together a cut across one eyebrow, and his bottom lip was split.
Family wouldn’t do this.
I rounded the bed and silently moved a chair closer to him. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his form even for a second, and his injuries had me speechless. It was impossible not to judge. I tried, I fucking tried, but this wasn’t okay. Ever, under any circumstances. I didn’t care what goddamn generation his parents were from, or how traditional the brothers’ upbringing had been.
I sniffled and leaned back in my seat, one foot resting on my knee, and forced myself not to check his injuries further. I feared he was hurt more under the blanket. Broken ribs? How many more bruises?
Then again, no amount of bruising would take away the pain he’d suffered internally.
I thought of the home movie I’d seen. His happy grins and wolfish smirks.
With an elbow on the armrest, I pressed my thumb and forefinger against my eyes and exhaled tiredly. A yawn escaped me the moment I was no longer bothered by the hospital lights, so I stayed in that position a couple minutes.
The pain in my hand was dulled by the meds that also seemed to make me sleepier.
I should’ve tried to sleep on the plane.
I yawned again and let my good hand fall to my lap. I squinted briefly at the lights in the ceiling.
Then I saw Kieran shift in his sleep, which was followed by a flinch and a low groan.
I sat forward, my heart rate picking up.
He grunted and withdrew his arms from under the blanket, and he cracked his eyes open with pain flitting across his face. When he faced me, it took a moment for him to realize. Then the confusion cleared, and he swallowed hard.
“You’re here,” he whispered hoarsely.
“I got a call from Maggie yesterday,” I murmured.
He rolled his eyes as they became glassy. “Of course. I figured Ma would call her.” He tried to sit up, but a wince stopped him, and I was out of my chair right away. “It’s okay.”
“Nothing here is okay. Where does it hurt?”
“My ribs.”
I cursed and helped him raise the back of his bed a bit. “Are they broken?”
He shook his head. “Just bruised.”
Just.
“Who did this?” I whispered.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me, Kieran.”
He sighed and leaned his head back against the pillow again. The defeat and abandonment were written all over him, and it fucking killed me.
“Mostly my big brother. Brent.” He cleared his throat as his eyes welled up again. “Mark got a couple hits in too.”
“I’m so sorry.” I slumped down in my seat again and grabbed his hand.
He gave me an empty little smirk. “You didn’t do this.”
“I pushed you away.” The guilt nearly bowled me over. “I told you I regretted we ever met.”
