Chapter 10 Monroe
MONROE
THE PAST
The last few weeks had been excruciating. I could barely concentrate on my tutorials and lectures. Mum was always on me for being absentminded in the house, and I was constantly checking my phone for texts from Brodan.
We used to text every day and call every other day.
I hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks. A few days after that night at the castle, I’d texted and asked him how he was doing, and he’d replied that he was good but busy. Brodan always asked me how I was doing, but there was no reciprocation this time, no eagerness to continue the conversation.
And he hadn’t called.
He’d been distant ever since he told me he had a girlfriend.
Part of me really wanted to believe that he was lying to push me away.
I’d been drunk that night, but not so wasted that I didn’t remember telling him I was in love with him.
My cheeks burned with embarrassment every time I thought about it.
Either he was lying about the girl, or he was distant because of what I confessed.
I’d prefer to believe he was lying. Obviously.
Arran didn’t know about any of it. He and I had grown closer since Brodan left for uni. But he was oblivious to my true feelings for his brother. That was also why he was the best source of factual information. We’d been in touch, but I hadn’t seen him until now because he was busy last weekend.
Butterflies swarmed in my stomach as I drove the piece-of-shit car I’d saved up for. It was honestly a miracle that the ancient Brava could get me back and forth to Inverness. And as much as it was a piece of shit, I also loved it. She (my car was definitely a girl) represented my freedom.
She chugged to a stop outside the castle, and as I got out, the double doors opened and Arran stepped out with a bottle of beer in each hand, his arms spread wide as he yelled, “Let’s get fucked!”
I laughed at his nonsense and rounded the bonnet. “Aye, give me, give me.”
Grinning, he held out a beer. “Don’t tell Brodan I’m corrupting you while he’s gone.”
The mention of his brother caused that familiar pang, and the urge to burst into tears was real. I forced myself to roll my eyes instead and took the beer. “I was corrupted long before you, Arran Adair.”
“Oh, aye?” He waggled his brows. “Who was the lucky bastard?”
Wrinkling my nose, I huffed, “No one worth mentioning.”
“That bad, eh?” Arran snorted.
Shoving him toward the house, I replied, “None of your business. I hope there are snacks in here.”
Arran led me to his bedroom, and I asked if anyone else was home this weekend.
“Dad’s in Skye for the weekend again for who knows what. I wonder if he has a fuck buddy there.”
“Is that all you think about?”
“Pretty much. Anyway, Lachlan is filming in Canada, and Thane’s at uni. And so, of course, is Brodan.”
“Speaking of,” I led casually, “is it true, then? That he has a girlfriend? We haven’t spoken much lately.”
Arran flopped down on his bed with a frown. “The big shit isn’t dropping the ball on your friendship because he’s got a fucking girlfriend, is he?”
My breath caught as my gut twisted painfully. Letting my hair hide my face as I settled into his comfy armchair, I asked, “So, it’s true?”
“Aye. Who would have thought?” Arran gestured to the pile of snacks on his bed. “What delicacy would you prefer with your beer, my lady? Pringles, peanuts, chocolate?”
I shrugged, and he tossed a bag of chocolate buttons at me. I caught them, even though my mind was screaming at him to tell me more.
Thankfully, Arran spoke with no further prompting. “Brodan brought his bird home last weekend.”
“Don’t call her a bird,” I admonished.
He grinned. “Apologies. He brought his lady home last weekend.”
Brodan brought her here.
“Thane and Dad were both home, so he wanted us all to meet her. I can’t believe he’s finally getting serious about someone.” Arran wrinkled his nose. “She was fit, don’t get me wrong, but she kept giggling at everything Bro said. It was fucking annoying.”
“Are they serious?”
Arran sat up to take a chug of his beer, his eyes narrowing on me. I tried not to squirm under his regard. Swallowing his mouthful, he asked, “Brodan really hasn’t told you about her?”
No.
Brodan had not only lied when he told me he’d never be serious about anyone (insinuating that if he could be serious, it would be about me), but he’d cut me out of his life.
Without exaggeration, the pain in my chest was excruciating. I felt like I was going to fall into a million pieces or float away from myself, untethered for eternity. Both thoughts panicked me.
“Roe? You okay?”
Don’t let him see. Don’t let any of them see.
And never let Brodan Adair see what he’d done to me.
Wanting to be numb, I chugged back my beer until I was gasping for breath.
“Roe?” Arran leaned toward me, concern on his handsome face.
“It’s stupid … I just … I never thought he’d drop me when he got a girlfriend.” I fudged the truth so he wouldn’t see. Wouldn’t see that I was in agony.
“That shithead.” Arran looked furious. “Has he really not spoken to you?”
“Not in a few weeks. He used to text every day and call every other. He didn’t say anything to you about me, did he?” I prodded, hoping like hell Brodan hadn’t told Arran that I was in love with him.
He shook his head, scowling. “Not a bloody word. But I’m going to have a word with him. He can’t just drop you because he has a girlfriend. And Vanessa better not be the reason.”
“Vanessa?”
“Aye, that’s her name.”
Vanessa.
He’d abandoned me for someone called Vanessa.
Brodan had abandoned me.
He was the only person on the planet who knew how alone I felt because of my shitty parents. Even so, he’d abandoned me. Just like they had.
At that moment, I hated him. Truly. I let that hatred creep through me and miraculously, it stifled my growing anxiety. “Don’t say anything to him.” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was flat, cold. “I don’t want Brodan’s friendship just because his brother reminded him to give a shit.”
Arran sucked in a breath. “Roe … I’m sorry.”
Not wanting his pity, I threw back the rest of my beer, finishing it. I held out the empty bottle and waggled it. “Got anything stronger?”
With a sigh, Arran pushed up off his bed and crossed the room to take the empty bottle. His fingers wrapped around mine instead. “You’re my friend, Roe. And no bird—I mean, lady—will ever make me forget about you.”
Tears threatened, so I pulled back my hand and gave him a lopsided smile. “Good to know, Arr. Now, do you have anything stronger?”
He chuckled and backed up. “Turn up the music while I go hunt for the good stuff.”
As soon as Arran left the room, panic tried to force its way back in. I lunged across the room, opening the ancient bloody window that offered little protection against the cold, and sucked in a lungful of night air. I noted my hands trembled and realized my whole body was too.
“Calm down,” I whispered to myself. This was not a normal reaction, right?
But Brodan had abandoned me.
Just like everyone else who was supposed to love me.
STOP!
I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think about anything. It hurt too fucking much.
Cranking up Biffy Clyro on the fancy desktop Lachlan had bought Arran, I wandered around his room, looking for a distraction. Thankfully, he returned not too long later with a full bottle of whisky.
At first, everything was free and clear of the cognizance-destroyer that was alcohol.
We chatted about my time at uni and about his job as a waiter at a fancy restaurant north of Ardnoch.
We reminisced about school and talked about the places we wanted to see.
He told me Lachlan had offered to bring him and Brodan out to his film set next summer.
But I couldn’t remember much of our conversation after a certain point.
I honestly didn’t know who reached for who first.
The moment would be forever fragmented in my memories, flashes of kisses, of sensation.
Everything came crashing back into clear, painful, focused reality at the sound of someone roaring, “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Not someone.
Brodan.
Arran was above me. Inside me.
We were naked.
Shock suffused Arran’s face, and he twisted his head around to look over his shoulder. Then he was scrambling off me, revealing Brodan, who gaped at me in abject betrayal, his look cutting me to the core.
The room swayed as I whispered his name.
He flinched, and then his gaze shot to Arran, who was pulling up his jeans. “Look, Bro, just—”
Brodan cut him off by lunging across the room at his brother. I sobered up quickly. Practically falling off the bed, I hurried to pull on my clothes as I heard the telltale smack of a fist meeting flesh.
“No!” I cried out, yanking down my sweater to see Brodan on top of Arran.
Arran struggled beneath him, trying to avoid his brother’s fists.
“Brodan, stop!” I yelled.
But he wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t stop.
He was pummeling Arran.
Punch after punch, the smack of flesh turning my stomach.
Terror propelled me to them, and I yanked on Brodan’s arm, but he shrugged me off with such force, I flew back and hit the foot of the bed. Pain ricocheted up my lower back, and I cried out as I landed hard on my wrist.
Brodan whirled around, horror on his face. “Roe.” He looked back down at Arran, who was a bloodied, groaning mess. Brodan heaved himself off his brother. Tears swam in his eyes, a million tortured emotions within.
And I couldn’t face him.
I couldn’t face what I’d done to them.
So I ran.
Not thinking clearly, I got to my car, threw up on the gravel beside it, and then got in where I drunkenly cried and recklessly drove all the way home.
I’d never been so drunk that I couldn’t remember details.
But over the next few weeks (and years), I tried desperately to remember how Arran and I ended up having sex …
and I couldn’t. We’d finished an entire bottle of whisky and started on his pack of beer.
I was ill for days with the worst hangover of my life.
I wasn’t in my right mind when I had sex with Arran. Neither was he.
There were only flashes of memories, everything coming into sharp focus upon the moment of Brodan’s appearance.
It was a night that I could barely remember … and yet it had ruined everything.