The Secret We Keep

Chapter 12 Make him go to the hospital

Make him go to the hospital

Morgan

Outside the leisure complex, my ears are still ringing. I yawn, covering my mouth, the comedown from the excitement of watching Evie leaving me exhausted.

After waiting for her to receive her medal and new coloured belt, Jerry called to tell me he was outside.

He’s a little earlier than I had expected.

In fact, I told him I’d call him when the competition had finished to avoid this exact situation.

But I’m guessing he has somewhere else to be, so it was now or never.

A car horn honks in the distance. I’ve been standing still for God knows how long, unable to properly register anything due to the amount of people streaming past me. But just as I start towards the black Volkswagen that is now flashing its headlights at me, a voice calls out.

“Morgan.”

I turn and see Paddy jogging my way. “Everything alright?” I ask him.

He comes to a stop in front of me. “Yeah. I just wondered where you’d got to, that’s all. Evie’s getting changed, then we’re going to take her to grab something greasy and bad for us. Her words, not mine.”

His face is still beaming from seeing Evie beat the little boy who wasn’t really little at all. Or maybe he’s smiling wide because he had the last laugh against the boy’s father who was goading him the entire fight. Either way, he looks so attractive.

I step back when Jerry beeps the horn, making me jump. “I’d love to. But my lift is here.” The horn sounds again, a little longer this time. “And clearly I’ve already taken too long.”

When the horn sounds again, Paddy’s head slants. “That Jerry?” he asks bitterly. When I nod, there’s a deep intensity to his features and a flash of annoyance graces his face. “He hasn’t changed at all, has he?”

“It would appear not, no.” I turn, embarrassed, and more so acutely aware that the drive home is now going to be even more awkward once my brother sees me out here talking to Paddy O’Keefe.

I know they didn’t really see eye to eye when they were in school.

There is literally no love lost between them.

“Morgan, wait,” Paddy says.

I wish my feet weren’t acting like slaves to this man, but they are. I stop and turn back around to face him.

“Let me take you home. I know Evie will want you there for dinner. After all, it was you who told her to use her signature move to beat that kid.”

I laugh under my breath. “No, she did that all on her own. She didn’t need anything from me.”

Paddy watches me closely, his lip twitching.

“What?” I ask, just as the horn sounds again. Jesus, what is up with all the honking?

“Nothing.” He exhales sharply. “Well, actually, I was going to say that it wouldn’t just be Evie who wants you there for dinner.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mum was pretty adamant I come out here and ask you,” he teases, and I know that he is because he’s grinning now.

“She did not.”

He shrugs. “Was worth a shot.”

I glance over my shoulder in Jerry’s direction before I turn my attention back to Paddy. “Maybe some other time? I’ll come and see Evie soon. I need to see her new belt and trophy.”

Paddy straightens. “Okay.”

I make it two steps before his hand grabs my wrist, and he spins me to face him. His fingers dust my jaw, and he pauses like he’s waiting for permission before he lowers his mouth to mine.

The second our lips finally meet, pulses of heat ripple through my body. A lifetime of wishes come true all at once. Threading his hands through my curls, excitement and lust race against each other, making my body tingle in ways I’ve never felt before.

My breasts suddenly ache to feel him pressed against me. I want his hands on my body in places I haven’t touched for so long.

Paddy’s lips part. I taste the Starburst sweets we shared when his tongue slips into my mouth.

I tangle mine with his, my eyes closing as I drown in him, not sure that I’m ready for the storm we’re about to unleash.

When a low, gravelly moan rumbles in the back of his throat, I’m hit with a sense of satisfaction. My hands reach up and pull him closer as his grip in my hair tightens.

“Paddy,” I whisper on a lost breath, completely and utterly drowning in the man I’ve wanted my entire life.

He pulls back, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.

My brain momentarily short circuits, but I manage to say, “I thought you weren’t going to do anything stupid tonight?”

He pulls me closer to him, and I melt into his touch while Paddy’s eyes close and an anguished moan escapes him. “Nothing about kissing you is stupid, curly fries.”

My teeth sink into my bottom lip before we’re kissing once again.

My greedy hands roam from his hair to the sides of his face, where the stubble on his cheeks scratches against the tips of my fingers.

It does nothing to lessen my growing need for him.

If anything, the feel of him, coupled with the way that he keeps tugging me closer to him, ignites my need and want. He’s becoming like a drug.

“Get your fucking hands off my sister.”

The sound of Jerry’s voice makes me break away from Paddy in horror.

Not even startled, Paddy straightens his spine. “Or what?” he goads Jerry, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb.

Jerry’s fist smashes into Paddy’s nose before either of us can react.

Paddy snickers over the stumbling steps of his feet. He doesn’t seem at all phased by Jerry’s reaction or his punch. If anything, I swear I see him holding back laughter when Jerry raises his fist to hit him again.

My hands land flat on Jerry’s chest to push him away. “Stop,” I cry out, just as he steps forwards.

Jerry swipes them away like he can’t stand to be touched by me. It hurts, leaving me feeling rejected, but I can’t have him hitting Paddy.

“Get in the car, Morgan,” Jerry says through gritted teeth.

His instruction lands on deaf ears. “Not until I know you won’t hurt him.”

Paddy definitely laughs this time. “He can’t hurt me, curly fries.”

Seriously? My jaw clenches. Turning to face him, I hold out my arms, palms faced up. “He already has, Paddy. Please, don’t make this any worse.”

“Worse? You little fruitcake. Things can’t get much worse,” Jerry argues.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Paddy fires at Jerry, swiping away the blood dripping from his nose.

“Leave it, Paddy,” I try to tell him, wanting nothing more than to just get in the car and get out of here. I can see his anger at how Jerry speaks to me, but it’s nothing new.

“Trust me, O’Keefe, one day you’ll be thanking me that I saved you from her.”

Shame and doubt circle me when I see the look in Paddy’s eyes. I wish the ground would just open up and swallow me whole. How can one of the best nights of my life turn into the worst so quickly?

“I’m not going to let you talk about her like that.” Paddy’s nostrils flare, and his shoulders stiffen with tension.

My eyes widen Paddy’s way when he steps closer to Jerry.

Jerry laughs in his face with malice. “Is that right, O’Keefe? Tell me, you do know what’s going on, don’t you?” Paddy remains quiet, but he sighs heavily, the side of his jaw ticking as he gets more and more annoyed by the second. “Oh shit, you don’t. Well, let me save you the trouble—”

Paddy’s elbow retracts before his fist slams into Jerry’s nose.

Jerry lands on the floor with a heavy thwack.

I gasp in shock. “Jerry,” I cry out as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

He groans a chorus of pained moans and rolls to his side.

My brows lift in panic. “Paddy, you could have killed him.” I lean down to check on Jerry who starts coughing.

Paddy looks shocked by his own strength, lifelessly rooted to his spot. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink when I look his way.

“Paddy,” I yell at him, concerned by the horror in his eyes.

He snaps out of his trance, his worry not for Jerry. “Morgan…” His shaky words trail off, but his eyes never break away from me.

“Help me get him up.”

Paddy then moves quickly, bending and helping me move Jerry to sit, like a bolt of lightning’s hit him with force.

Jerry jumps to his feet, shrugging us both off. “Get off me, O’Keefe.” He spits out some blood before heading back to his car, and I know this time I have to follow him.

Still, I find myself just staring at Paddy, at a complete loss for words. My head is suddenly clouded. Nothing seems to make any sense.

“Make him go to the hospital to get checked,” Paddy says, breaking the silence. We share a moment of understanding, but neither of us says anything more.

I make it to Jerry’s car and slide in, seeing Paddy still standing where I left him.

I’ve sat on the sofa for the past forty minutes listening to my parents go ballistic at me over the events from tonight. Like always, they’ve blindly trusted Jerry and his account of what happened, rather than listening to my side of the story.

Did Paddy kiss me?

Yes.

Did I kiss him back?

Certainly.

Did I throw myself at him and make a fool of myself like Jerry recounts?

Absolutely not.

At least, I don’t think I did.

I’m finding lately that there are memories or moments in time that I think are real, but I can’t recall the finer details. Like when you wake up from a really great dream and someone asks what it was about, but you can’t begin to explain it.

When I’m alone, I know my truth. I know what happened and the way that I feel. Since hanging around with Paddy, I can honestly say it’s felt like living in a dream. I haven’t worried as much or overthought situations like I usually do.

“You’re telling me you like spending time with him?” my father asks cynically.

I look up, realising he’s talking to me. “I think so.”

He scoffs. “You think you like a man who you had no problem sticking your tongue down his throat?”

I’m looking at him, but my gaze is zoned out. Disconnected once again. “I like him.”

My mum comes and sits next to me on the sofa. She plays with a lock of my hair before looking at my father with a pleading look in her eye. “It’s okay to like someone, Morgan. But we’re just concerned for you. That’s all.”

I turn to look at her properly as she hands me some painkillers. “Why?” I ask, wondering how me liking someone would worry her.

She fidgets in her seat. I know she wants what’s best for me, but I feel numb by the lack of breathing space I have here.

In her silence, I say, “I’m twenty-one now. I’m allowed to like someone.” Picking up my glass of water, I swallow the pills in my hand.

“We’re not saying you’re not, hun.”

My dad mutters something under his breath.

“You have a message from the interview you know. I wrote it on the pad by the phone. You’ve been so busy lately with Paddy and walking the O’Keefe’s dog, you must have missed it,” Mum says.

“Or you simply don’t care anymore.”

My eyes hone in on my dad. “I care,” I tell him gently, placing my glass on the coffee table. “I didn’t know there was a message. I’ll call them back tomorrow.”

Dad huffs. “No need, I called them back on your behalf and accepted the job for you. You start Monday.”

My mouth parts slightly. “What?” I ask, my heart stuttering.

“Hun—”

“You called them back and accepted it for me? Why did you do that? How is that fair?”

“You want to talk to me about fair? Nothing about life is fair, alright.” His face turns a shade of maddening red.

It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. “You have no idea how hard I have worked for you and for this family. And you want to talk to me about fair?” Dad paces around the room, blowing heavy breaths.

When he sniffs, I feel helpless. Guilty. Ashamed that I don’t know how to make it better. “Dad?”

“Morgan, please. Don’t make this any more difficult. You will be there on Monday. And you will have some normality in your life. I know Holly will agree with me, so if you won’t listen to me, speak to your best friend who will tell you that enough is enough.”

Mum’s back falls against the sofa as she sobs silently to herself.

“Holly is away with her aunt. I’m not calling her and ruining her time with family all because you think you know best.”

He sighs heavily. “We do know best,” Dad blasts, eyes wide, lips pursed and seething.

“This is the end of this discussion. I can’t listen to this any longer.

” He turns to walk away but I can tell he isn’t finished.

“You know, your mother and I were married at your age. Married,” he says sounding exasperated, like he can’t quite believe I’m twenty-one, unemployed and not in a relationship.

“So I should be like you and Mum and marry someone quickly? Catch up with my peers for a more fulfilling life? Work a boring job because society tells me I should be doing all these things?”

Dad’s voice drops, his tone deeper. “I married your mother because it was the right thing to do and because I loved her. I work the hours I do so that I can provide for you and everything you need.”

“Everything I need?” I repeat sarcastically. “I don’t need anything from you, and yet you throw the fact that you work the hours you do like I’m your biggest burden.”

Both his hands cover his face as he suppresses a choked sob. “Because you are,” he breathes, tone drained.

A deep sting pierces my chest. My dad, the man who’s supposed to love me, protect me, believe in me… he thinks I’m his biggest burden? Confusion cuts like a jagged sword. Am I really that hard to live with? Do I really cause him this much pain?

Turning his back to me, Dad slides his hands to the back of his hair. He sobs, sounding wounded, and I’m angry with myself for doing this to him. I’m also angry that his words hit so hard.

I know I’m a burden on my parents. Whenever I look at the people around me, the pressure to change—to grow up, as he would say, it all becomes unbearable because time and time again, I feel like a failure.

And while I want to see my mum and dad happy, their happiness is solely riding on me. To carry that alone is something I can’t do. It will break me.

Growing in my own way and in my own time, should be a given, not something I beg for or have thrust upon me.

Jerry comes into view over Dad’s shoulder, frowning and shaking his head like I’m such a big disappointment before he goes back to doing whatever he was doing.

Enough is enough.

“I’ll be at the office on Monday.” I swallow the lump burning in my throat and walk past my father, who can’t even look at me. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden on this family.”

And with that, I head to my room. Alone, and very much aware that things will have to change. I don’t know how, and I can’t say why, but tonight was a wakeup call I didn’t see coming.

I slump to my bed and swipe under my eyes, expecting there to be tears, hoping what just happened is enough to finally tip me over the edge.

But when I look down at my hands, they’re dry.

Like always.