Breakaway (20 page)

Rory was in a pretty good mood as he pulled up in front of Sandra’s house. But that was before he stepped out onto the street and heard the shouting through the open window.

“You fuckin’ slag! I bet half those kids aren’t even mine! I’ve a good mind to punch you into next week, you cow!”

Rory lurched for the doorknob. Locked. Sonofabitch. “Touch Sandra again and you’re dead, you coward!”

Erin. Jesus Christ. Rory took a step back, then threw himself at the door shoulder first, bursting in on the sight of Larry giving Erin a good slap across the face while Sandra sat sobbing on the floor, fingers pressing into her split, swollen lip. Instinct took over.

Rory grabbed Larry, spun him around, and shoved him against the wall. “You fat piece of shit.”

Larry bared his teeth like an animal. “Who the fuck do you think you are—”

Rory didn’t let him finish. He drove his fist into Larry’s face.

As Larry fell to the floor, Rory jerked his head around to Erin and Sandra. “Go upstairs! Look after the kids!” Sandra hesitated. “GO!”

Erin grabbed Sandra by the wrist, yanking her up the stairs. The stinging red color of Erin’s face was fading, but there was still terror in her eyes, and it was his job to erase it.

Rory turned back to Larry in disgust. The rage and adrenaline pumping through him was even stronger than when he was fighting on the ice. This wasn’t another player who’d crossed a line. This was a coward who hit women. Who hit Erin. Rory jerked Larry back up to his feet by the lapels of his jacket, headbutting him square in the face. “I suggest you get the fuck out of here. NOW.”

Larry crumpled to the floor again, groaning as blood poured from the gash to his forehead and his nose.

Rory pulled him up a final time. “Get the fuck out of here. Now.” Rory dragged Larry to the open door and shoved him through it, slamming it behind him.

“I’m gonna get the garda!” Larry bellowed drunkenly from the sidewalk.

“Yeah, you go ahead and do that,” Rory replied sarcastically.

Rory slowly scrubbed his hands over his face, pulling himself back together. The last thing he wanted was Erin and Sandra tiptoeing back downstairs, only to see the rage that was still flying through him. He could hear the kids crying upstairs, and the yen to pummel Larry again rose up in his gut. He knew he had to get away or he’d chase the bastard down and beat him to death right there on the sidewalk. He didn’t move, knowing he couldn’t just leave. He took a deep breath and slowly walked into Sandra’s kitchen to wash Larry’s blood off his knuckles and forehead.

Rory stuck his hands under the tap and then splashed his face, the rage in him ebbing away in time with his heartbeat, which was slowly returning to normal.

“Rory?”

He turned around. Erin was standing in the kitchen doorway, her lips trembling while tears trickled down her face. Rory quickly dried his hands and face with a tea towel, then held his open arms out to her.

“It’s all right,” he told her when she came to him and started sobbing against his chest. “It’s all right; he’s gone.”

Rory held her tightly, hoping that his embrace was enough to convey the words he wanted to speak:
I love you. I will always protect you.

Eventually, Erin’s shoulders stopped heaving, and she stepped out of his arms.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “For going after Larry and—you know—comforting me right now.”

“I want to do more than comfort you, believe me,” Rory said fiercely. “I want to hold you in my arms until you believe nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“I do believe it.”

“What the hell happened?” Rory asked disgustedly.

“He was drunk,” Erin said numbly, walking toward the freezer. “Very drunk. Things escalated and he punched her. Then I tried to intervene, and he slapped me.”

“Yeah, I was there for that bit,” Rory spat out angrily.

Despite crying things out, Erin still looked dazed as she brought an ice tray to the sink, twisting it so the cubes tumbled out into the basin. “Thank God you came.”

“Bloody right, thank God.”

Erin grabbed one of the other tea towels on the counter, putting some ice into it. “I’ve got to go to Sandra.”

“Erin.” Rory stayed her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Round her and the kids up; I’ll take them over to her mam’s.”

“She’s already said she won’t go to her mam’s. She’s staying put.”

Rory was shocked. “What? Can’t you talk some sense into her?”

“Haven’t I been trying to for years?” Erin snapped, looking again on the verge of tears.

“I know, love,” Rory said gently. “I just thought that now that he’d laid a hand on her, maybe she’d come to her senses.”

Erin suddenly looked exhausted. “It doesn’t work that way. I wish it did, but it doesn’t.”

Rory couldn’t shake his incredulity. “She’s just gonna stay here, then?”

Erin nodded painfully.

“Well, you’re getting the hell out of here, that’s for sure,” Rory declared.

Erin looked at him like he was crazy. “I’m not leaving her!”

“The hell you’re not!” Rory thundered. “If she wants to stay here and risk another pummeling, that’s her business. But you’re not staying for that drunken asshole to come back and lay a hand on you when I’m gone!”

Love blazed up in Erin’s eyes for a split second, but just as quickly it sparked out. If he mentioned it to her later, she’d deny it. But he saw it.

“I’m not leaving her, Rory,” Erin said wearily.

“This is insane.” He racked his brains. “How about this? I pack the lot of you up and take you to Aislinn’s farm for a few days. You know she and Liam wouldn’t mind.”

“I told you, Sandra won’t go.”

Rory felt a surge of anger. “There’s loyalty and there’s madness. This is madness.”

“She’s my best friend,” Erin reiterated plaintively.

“And you’re my—”

“Don’t.” Erin swiped at her eyes, sighing with resignation. “I best call Aislinn and Liam and let them know I’m not going to make it for dinner.”

“No, you know what? I’ll tell them. I was going to talk to Jake anyway when I dropped you off, so I’ll take care of it.”

Erin looked unsure for a minute. “All right.” She ducked her head shyly, then kissed him softly on the lips. “Well…thanks.”

Rory nodded, wanting more and knowing it wasn’t the time to try to take it. He also wanted to throw her over his shoulder and just get her the hell out of here. Christ, he wanted to get them all out of here. But Erin wouldn’t see it as him wanting to protect them all; she’d see it as his not respecting her crazy insistence on staying here with her masochistic friend.

Rory left the house reluctantly. His first stop would be the pub. He was going to let Old Jack know what happened, asking him and any of the regulars who were there to keep an eye out for Larry. And then he was going to speak to Jake.

*   *   *

Rory hadn’t been up to Aislinn’s farm since he’d dropped Erin off there after the fair. Distracted by her nearness, he hadn’t really taken in the changes that had occurred since he was last in Ballycraig. He was disappointed to see that some of its natural beauty was marred by electrical fences and No Trespassing signs. The Leary-ites. He could never imagine having to live like that.

It was a little after five, and the fields were cleared for a dinner break, or at least that’s what Rory assumed. During the short ride from town, his adrenaline eased, but his anger grew. He took a deep breath and rang the bell. Aislinn opened the door.

“You have got to be joking me. What’cha want? A good beating from Liam?”

“I’m here to see Jake. And to tell you Erin can’t make it.”

Aislinn gave him the evil eye. “And why would that be?”

“Sandra and Larry had a dustup and Erin doesn’t want to leave her alone.” He didn’t think he should give any more details.

He peered past Aislinn. “So is Jake about?”

“Let me go check and see if he wants to see
you
.”

Tough nut. Always had been. She’d scared the hell out
of weaker men for years, but she’d never scared him. He’d always sensed her brusqueness was just a cover for deep emotional pain. He was glad she’d finally found happiness. Christ knew she deserved it.

“C’mon in!” Aislinn shouted. Rory slipped out of his muddy trainers and went to the kitchen. Jake was at the table with Alec. Liam was there, too. Aislinn was at the kettle. He was going to have to play nice for a few minutes and make polite conversation.

“Take that hat off,” snapped Liam.

That was fast. “What?”

He gestured at the baseball cap on Rory’s head. “The Yankees? This is a Mets family.”

Rory took off the hat. “I bet you like the Islanders, too.”

Liam turned to his wife. “Can you believe this shit?”

Aislinn looked at her husband questioningly. “You mates now?”

“What’s up?” Jake interjected.

Alec was glaring at Rory from across the table. It was a useless gesture, but if it made the dullard feel as if he were somehow protecting Jake, Rory was willing to give him his macho moment.

Aislinn put a cup of tea down in front of him.

“Laced with arsenic, is it?” Rory asked.

“Worse. I laced it with guilt. And humility.”

“Two flavors I’m very familiar with.”

“Give over,” Jake sneered.

Rory was unperturbed. “Ask Erin.”

Jake looked ticked off, but before it developed into a pissing match, Aislinn was on it.

“None of this rubbish in my kitchen. Alec, come to the barn with me, we’ve to finish the dipping. As for you”—her expression was affectionate as she put an arm around Liam’s neck in a light choke hold—“I’ll try to make it down tonight if I can. Depends on how tired I am.”

“Same old story,” Liam teased. “I should get down there now, actually.” He threw Jake a miserable look. “Bettina’s still moaning about the hole in Vin Diesel’s eye.”

“Talk to Mr. Hockey Star here,” Jake said sourly. “He said he could get one quick smart.”

“You told me you’d take care of it,” Rory pointed out.

“Well, I’m busier than I thought,” Jake muttered. “So if you could call your mate, I’d be grateful.”

“No problem.”

“Must be nice to be so powerful.”

“It doesn’t take much power to get a Vin Diesel photo.”

“And on that note,” said Aislinn, “we’re all on our way.”

She, Alec, and Liam took leave of the kitchen, but not before Liam got another shot in at Rory. “The Yankees. Unbelievable.”

Rory just smiled.

Now that everyone else was gone, Jake made a big show of yawning. “What’s up, Rory? You want to go down to the pub, hoist a few, and get your ass kicked again?”

“Actually, I am here to talk about an ass kicking of another sort.”

“What’s up?”

“Feckin’ Larry Joyce.”

Jake groaned. “What about him?”

“Has Sandra never talked to you about any of the shit going on at her house?”

“No. She only talks to Erin. But everyone knows what’s up.”

“I went over there earlier to pick up Erin to bring her here,” Rory started.

“Chauffeur duty?”

“Yeah, and there was a god-awful goings-on. Larry was off his head. I walked in just in time to see him slap Erin across the face. Sandra was on the floor crying; she’d already taken one to the nose.”

Jake looked incensed. “He hit them both?”

“That’s what I just said,” Rory reiterated sharply, the anger in him rising again.

Jake must have sensed the reason for Rory’s testy response, because he let it go.

“I roughed Larry up a bit and told him to get the hell out.
But Sandra won’t leave, the daft thing. And Erin won’t leave Sandra alone there with the kids. I’ve asked Old Jack to keep an eye out for him, but that’s not a permanent solution.”

“Fuck, no.” Jake snorted. “Should we just kill him?”

“Don’t be stupid. No, I thought we could have a nice chat with him, you know? Tell him how much we’d hate for the garda to find out about the little side business he and his brother are running.”

“Well, if it’s just going to be a chat, I don’t know why you need me there.”

“I need you there so he knows he can’t just wait things out until I go back to the States.”

Jake mulled this over. “True. Right. Let’s do it.”

“I knew you’d agree.”

“I haven’t seen the bastard in ages.”

“Oh, he’s a sight,” Rory said, unable to hide his revulsion. “He’s fat as Father Christmas and he still has that horrible rattling cough. He couldn’t even walk the small hill to his brother’s place without wheezin’ and sweatin’ like a man on death row. Death on two legs, that one is.”

Jake turned circumspect, tapping his index finger against the tea saucer. “How’re San’s kids?”

“They’re great, but their home life is shit, same as it’s always been.”

Jake drained his tea. “I could never understand what she saw in him, anyway.”

“Well, you wouldn’t give her the time of day.”

Jake scowled. “What?”

“Don’t play like you don’t know. She had it bad for you all through school. But you didn’t even see it, because you were too busy having a crush on Erin.”

“You’re pulling this out of your ass, mate. Seriously.”

“Guess Erin was making it up all that time.” The incredulous look on Jake’s face made Rory laugh. “Christ, I can’t believe what a thicko you are.”

“Fuck off out of it, Rory. You’re pulling my tits on this one.”

“Ask Erin.”

Jake looked skeptical. “She goes from a crush on me to getting knocked up by Larry Joyce? Talk about doing a one-eighty.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes people make bad choices. You know San. She’s never believed she deserves better, with that mother of hers—”

“What a nutter,” Jake agreed.

“You ask me, getting knocked up was her way to get out of that mad house. Eight kids, and her watching them half the time.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “You better not be blaming me for the path she took.”

“Don’t be an arsehole. I’m just sayin’ things could have been different for her if you weren’t so busy staring at Erin’s tits.”

“Fuck off, Rory.”

Rory ignored him. “You wanna do this or not?”

“’Course I do.”

“Well, then, we’ll set a time to do it.” He paused. “There’s just one thing.”