14. Fourteen
Fourteen
January 2021 - One Year Ago
Connor Kelly
“ M other fucker!” I shout loudly enough to startle my cousin.
“You better not be bleedin’ on that fuckin’ table, Con,” Mikey yells from the other side of our workshop.
When we opened our business building bespoke furniture a year ago, we set up shop in a small industrial estate in north Manchester. It’s not a huge space because we didn’t want high overheads when we were starting out.
I turn off the bench saw I was using and look down at the piece of wood I’d been attempting to cut through; there is definitely a lot of blood on it. For fuck’s sake. Looks like I’ll be starting over on this one.
My hand is throbbing where the jagged blade cut through the muscle, and my eyes are watering profusely.
“Thanks for the concern. I almost lost my fuckin’ hand,” I gasp, wincing at the pain. I take some deep breaths and count to ten, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Ouch, how’d you manage that?” Mikey asks when he wanders over to inspect the damage.
“The blade caught on an edge, and the wood kicked,” I tell him through gritted teeth.
“Bet you’re glad you’re not a human right about now,” he says, looking at the tissue in my hand knitting back together. He’s not wrong; I definitely appreciate the sped-up healing time, but it still fucking hurts like a bitch.
My head is in the clouds today, and if I wasn’t a shifter, I’d be on my way to a hospital. I managed to cut a jagged slice through the fleshy part of my hand between my thumb and forefinger. Thankfully my left hand. Still, it looks gory as fuck.
“Come on, let’s have a brew while your hand heals up,” he suggests, slapping me on the back.
We put in a small kitchenette when we set up in the workshop, but it only has a kettle, a microwave, and a mini fridge. I plonk myself down on the sofa nearby while Mikey puts the kettle on.
“Not like you to be so distracted, what’s up?” he asks.
To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong. I think it’s a build-up of all these different things in my life that are completely out of my control. I’ve seen Fee once since I got back from Northern Ireland, but we only had a couple of hours, and neither of us wanted to ruin it by bringing up heavy shit. Lately, it feels as if we never have enough time to sort through anything.
I can’t exactly tell Mikey my head is fucked because I hardly get to see my boyfriend—the one nobody knows about.
“My da and Will’s parents are pushing for us to set a date for the weddin' again, and I’m sooo not ready.” I let out a sigh.
“Not ready or haven’t figured out a way to get out of it yet?”
Will and I were supposed to get married when we turned twenty-one. I'm twenty-four next month, and he’s twenty-four this summer, so I’ve been postponing it for several years, and the pressure from our families is mounting.
“No comment,” I reply. Mikey knows I don’t want to marry Will, but he’s big on ‘you do what you have to do for the good of the pack,’ so I avoid bringing it up with him too often. The gash on my hand has finally stopped bleeding, and I watch the top layer of skin going pink.
“Will’s one of the prettiest guys I’ve ever met and one of your best friends; I don’t see why you’re so put out over the match.” As if that’s all that’s required to commit your entire life to someone.
“Yeah, he’s pretty, but I don’t see him that way; we’re just pals. I’m only ever going to view him as a friend. I don’t understand why everyone is so focused on me and Will when Sam is the Alpha heir with no intentions to settle down.” I know I sound stroppy, and I don’t mean to throw Sam under the bus, but I am so over this constant debate.
“You and I both know nobody can tell a future Alpha who they’re gonna marry. That stubborn Alpha gene of his would have him swearin' to never settle down if anyone pushed it,” Mikey says, snickering.
“And my Alpha gene? Why can’t I use the same excuse?” I ask, getting exasperated.
“Yours is dormant. You’re just stubborn because you’re a Kelly. You’ll get over it,” he says dismissively, and I huff in annoyance.
“Yeah, well, Sam might want to get a move on. Campbells will have another Alpha heir soon, and our line ends with Sammy.” I’m hoping if my family starts focusing on getting Sam to settle down, they’ll be less livid when I finally call things off with Will.
“What do you mean?” he asks curiously.
“Apparently Jasper and Jade Campbell are expecting. New baby Alpha en route,” I tell him. I really hope he doesn’t push where I got this information from because I can’t exactly tell him the truth.
“Fuck. Really? If you don’t marry Will, the pack is gonna be broke without his family’s money and with a new Alpha on the way; it won’t be long before their pack is stronger than ours, too. Does your da know?”
He's reacting to this news with much more vehemence than I expected.
“No, I don’t think he does, anyway,” I answer. Knowing that since I haven’t told him, it’s highly unlikely he would have found out elsewhere. Guilt niggles me; maybe this is something I should have kept to myself.
“Good, that’s good. Probably best not to tell him right away,” he says distractedly. He’s acting really strange which is saying something because Mikey is a bit unpredictable at the best of times.
“Why’s that good?” I ask, but Mikey gets up and leaves the room like he didn’t even hear me.
My hand only has a rapidly fading pink scar on it now, thank fuck for quick healing since I’ll have to plane the tabletop again, and hope my blood hasn’t soaked into it. Finishing the dregs of my brew, I dump the mug in the sink. I really need to crack on if I still want to finish early today since I promised to go and meet Niamh and Will at the pub after work.
My work boots stick to the grubby floor, and the smell of stale beer assaults my senses. When I spot a group of builders standing around the bar, I no longer feel bad for being so dusty and not changing out of my work clothes. The Fox he’s such a prick. We’re only twenty-three. What’s the big rush?” I reply, even though I know there’s no ignoring my da about this anymore; he’s our Alpha, after all.
“Con, I think we should maybe set a date.” He looks up at me and tugs on his earlobe, which has always been Will’s nervous tell. In fairness, I haven’t always been the most cooperative where these discussions are concerned, so his apprehension is understandable. It still seems pretty fucked up to me that at age sixteen, our parents made this decision for us, and now I’m the arsehole for not wanting to go through with it. Sometimes, I really wish Will would speak up and point out how ridiculous this engagement is so it doesn’t always fall on me.
“We can’t get married just so some money will change hands. Don’t you wanna find your mate one day? Fall in love and build a life with someone?” I ask, desperate for him to put an end to all of this.
“I know you don’t see me that way, but maybe you could? Maybe if we tried and went on a date or something?” He sounds so hopeful, but I feel sick to my stomach. I want to scream out that I already belong to someone else, but I can’t, and my heart aches with it.
“Will, you’re my best mate, but I can’t, okay? I’m sorry, but I just can’t.” I down the last of my drink. “I gotta go. I forgot somethin’ at the workshop. Tell Niamh I’ll call her later.” I don’t even give him a chance to respond before I make my way out of the front door.
When I round the corner of the pub, I end up bent over at the waist, hands resting on my knees as I try to catch a full breath. My throat feels tight and raw, like it’s closing and not enough air can get through to fill my lungs. My chest is tight, and my palms sweat despite the cold temperature. I try to steady my breathing, but every breath is too fast, and too shallow, and not enough. When my vision starts going spotty, I begin to panic even more. Suddenly, two firm hands grip my shoulders.
“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth for me, okay?” Will’s voice is soft but firm, and I try to do as he says. “Good, now tell me five things you can see.” I try to blink the black spots out of my vision to see what’s around me.
“Um. Your Converse, a glass bottle, graffiti, my hands, the pavement.” I manage to get the words out around my laboured breathing.
“Great, you’re doing good, Con. Now, four things you can touch.”
“My trousers, the wall, the ground… Your hands.” My chest feels less restricted, like the rope that was wrapped around me finally has some slack.
“Three things you can hear.”
“Your voice, traffic, my voice,” I say softly, eventually calming down. “I’m okay now, thank you. Sorry. Fuck. I’m such a mess. You shouldn’t have followed me out here.” Will lets go of my shoulders and moves to lean against the wall next to me.
“Well, I’m glad I followed you out here. I didn’t even know you had anxiety, Con. Have you had panic attacks before?” I can tell he’s trying to hide it, but I can hear the hurt over me keeping this from him. Let's add it to the list of reasons I'm a terrible friend.
“Only in the past year, not many,” I answer quietly.
“Will you come back inside? We don’t have to talk about it,” he offers.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be in in a minute. I just need to make a quick call.” Will seems to consider whether I’m using it as an excuse to make a run for it, but he must see how much I don’t have the energy to lie to him at present and ultimately nods before heading back inside.
My hands shake as I pull my phone out of my pocket.
“Hey, you’re through to Phoenix Campbell’s voicemail. Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Hey Fee. I just needed to hear your voice. Can I see you tonight? I really need to see you. I love you.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming call as soon as I disconnect.
“Hey babe, I was driving and forgot to connect to the car. Everything okay?” I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I really need to see you. Can I see you tonight?”
“Yeah, I can see you tonight. Are you okay though? You don’t sound okay. Where are you?”
“I’m fine, I promise. I’m at the pub having a drink with Will and Niamh.”
“Okay. I’m driving home from work, but I’m free all evening. Text me a time?”
“Yep, will do. Gotta go, Niamh’s just spotted me. I’ll text you. Bye.”
“ Okay, love you. Bye .”
“What’s wrong?” Niamh asks the second she reaches me. “And don’t say ‘nothing’.” I let out a deep sigh before answering.
“Fine. Not nothin’, but I don’t wanna talk about it. Will’s inside. Can we just hang out and drink beer and pretend?”
“Did Will already speak to you about Da?” I nod in response. “Okay then, tonight we can pretend. But you’re going to have to come clean to me at some point, Con. Whatever it is, it’s eating you alive.” With one last pitying look, she turns and enters the pub, going in search of Will.
“I know,” I whisper before following.