Chapter Twenty-Six

I sit on the bleachers, listening to runners squeaking on wooden boards, balls bouncing, and a mixture of encouragement for beginners and trash talk between those more experienced. I'm only half-listening to Louis describe the strengths and weaknesses of the latest recruits. Mark snatches away the bulk of my attention. Too many squats and grunts. Too many heated looks cast my way.

"Want to pass the ball?" Louis asks.

I jolt. "What?"

He nods to my prosthetic leg, though only Mark and Tommy actually know that's what it is beneath the concealment of clothing. "As long as it doesn't hurt your leg too much? I'll work on my accuracy, so you don't have to go chasing it." Louis grins brightly.

I came to watch Mark. It didn't really occur to me that I could participate. Nerves churn in my stomach, but I find myself nodding. "But you really can't lob it at me, Louis," I say. "I don't want to lunge for it on instinct and get hurt."

"No pressure!" Louis says, hopping nimbly to his feet. "I'm glad you could come today. I've missed my accounting comrade. Everyone else groans at me when I talk about my course."

I grin. "Or tells you how boring it is."

"How gruelling," Louis adds.

"How much more interesting their course is."

We both laugh as Louis snags a spare volleyball and strides away from me. I swallow hard, testing out a stance and find that it's not too uncomfortable. A bit stiff. I don't have the mobility to really squat down into a perfect stance, but a half-one is doable. Louis passes the ball my way, and I dig it back. A few passes and it's easy. Even taking a step to one side and passing is okay.

Mark makes his way over to my side. I grin at him, pleased with myself.

"Eddie isn't here," Mark says.

"So?"

"So if I stand right behind you while you're squatting down, will you get mad?"

"Mark , " I redden as I swipe him away.

Mark chuckles, advancing rather than dodging, taking the hit to his stomach as he drapes an arm over my shoulders. "I'm serious. I've not gotten to see you doing squats in months. I've been deprived."

"You've seen me in far more compromising positions than a squat the past few weeks." Last night, even. Mark keeps his voice low as he teases, and there's this openness to him, this playfulness that makes my blood sing. I want to match it.

"Join me for a few passes?" I add.

"Sure. Will you get mad if I kiss your cheek?"

I pause, considering the question. Will I? Eddie isn't here, and even if he was, I hope that I could push through to be like this with Mark. A couple. Open and flirting. There's this new sense of closeness after last night. Mark's unbridled affection released something in me.

I catch his elbow, leaning in to press a peck on his mouth.

My heart races as I lean back. Mark's hand goes to his mouth as he stares at me wide-eyed. The surprise slowly fades from his expression, and he lowers his hand to reveal a smile. One that's soft, gentle. A smile I can see shining in his eyes.

Mark leans in, kissing my cheek. "You're killing me, babe," he whispers. And he then trots away, forming a triangle with me and Louis. I discreetly check Louis's expression, but he's totally unfazed by what he just witnessed. I release a long breath, my niggle of anxiety going with it.

I kissed him. In the open. In front of people .

And the world isn't ending. And it isn't going to, either.

I pass for close to thirty minutes before I stiffen up. I can feel a small tinge in my knee, and I realize Mark notices.

"I'm going to call it here," I say, beating Mark to the punch. "I'll go grab some drinks."

I take the chance as I walk to stretch out, meandering my way to the vending machine in the hallway. I check both directions to make sure the hallway is empty before stretching properly. I'm through half a routine when footsteps approach and I straighten up.

"Kyle," he says.

I turn. "Chris? What are…" my voice dies. Abject horror crawls up my throat in a steady, unstoppable march. The man is too tall to be Chris. Too gaunt. Too rough-looking. Too cruel and horrible. My heart stutters, then beats so fast I can't distinguish between one beat and the next, can only hear a roar. The march has reached my ears.

"Kyle," he says again.

I startle back, flinching away from his outstretched arm. He snatches my wrist.

"We haven't talked in a while, huh? How have you been?"

"Let go of me! Let go—"

"Don't be a little shit," he hisses, squeezing my wrist until it hurts. "You're not a baby. Don't act like it."

My mouth seals shut. Thoughts hyper-focus on nothing but horror; of my life ruined, of everything so overwhelming and awful I couldn't leave my room.

He rubs his mouth, eyes sparkling in annoyance. "Now," he speaks calmly again. "I need a favour."

I say nothing, frozen.

"This." He holds up a letter. I see the word medical on it and my name. "You were in an accident?"

No. I want to say no. No, nothing happened. I'm not vulnerable. You can't do anything to me now. I dumbly nod. Is he checking on me? The thought comes slow.

"And you got one hell of a payout, didn't you?" he asks. "Chris would have arranged a policy like that for you, right? Where is he—"

Is he checking on me ? Yeah right. "You're not getting anything from me," I manage to say.

His expression twists. "Listen here you—"

"Kyle," Eddie calls. "He bothering you?"

Eddie .

Ronan turns his head, eyes landing on Eddie. I tremble, terrified that Ronan is going to recognise him. Start everything all over again. Ruin it. All of it. When I blink, I'm standing in the hallway alone with Eddie. Ronan is gone.

Eddie is there.

Just standing there.

My defences go up so fast they crush coherency and common sense into a stupor.

I want to tell Eddie to go fuck himself. Take a hike, screw off, leave me alone and never come back. Fear punches a hole through my reasoning. This isn't a new wound; it's an old one, simply rearing its head after being repressed for too long.

Eddie's concerned expression morphs into a severe scowl, and his face reddens. I realise that my mouth is moving. That I am saying all those things in my head. They're pouring out of me, unstoppable, and all of a sudden, Eddie has a fist in my shirt and my back is against the wall.

"What the fuck, Eddie?" Mark snarls, dragging Eddie back.

I blink, dazed, everything feeling far away and filmy. Thoughts slip away, impossible to grasp. Mark and Eddie shove each other and shout in each other's faces. Eddie keeps gesturing to me.

Eddie is like my Tommy, Mark had said. He's always had my back .

"He's a piece of shit and he's just playing you, you idiot!" Eddie roars.

"How dare you push him like that!" Mark shouts back.

I drag in a breath. Despite how unstable I feel, despite how vulnerable and bare, I can't stand back and do nothing. I can't let Mark fight with someone so important to him.

"Mark, it was me," I say, my voice gravelly. "I said a load of crap to him." I don't even know what I said exactly, but I know it was bad.

Mark glances at me, concern burning in his black eyes. There's a hard glint in them still, and he shoves Eddie, fixing a lethal glare on his friend. "I don't care what he says. It is never okay to push him like that, you got it?" His threat hangs heavy in the air. "You do that again and we're done. You hear me? We're done ."

"Mark," I break the silence once more, my voice trembling. "It was me. Okay? Leave him be."

Mark's gaze jerks to me. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

Mark is in my space within a second, and despite how furious Eddie looks, a measure of guilt creeps into his expression.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," Eddie grumbles.

"You didn't," I say, watching Mark's expression harden at the words. I grab his hands before he turns to lay into Eddie again. I'm terrified of this sparking a distance between them that can't be bridged; I won't be responsible for Mark losing his closest friend. I won't let my brother ruin things in my life anymore.

"My brother was here," I say.

"Chris?" Mark asks, confused.

"No." My voice cracks.

Mark's confusion lasts a second longer, and then tension creeps into his shoulders as understanding dawns on his face. He jerks his gaze around, but there's nobody else.

"He was there, and then Eddie was there, and I—" My voice shakes badly. I'm not crying, but I want to. I can feel a tight ball of panic inside me, blocking the tears. "I said a lot of shit, Mark. And Eddie only came over to see if I was okay, so don't be mad at him. Alright?"

Mark wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Alright, I understand. Let's go to my car, and we'll get out of here. Eddie, do you mind…" Mark hesitates. "Do you mind grabbing my things from the gym?"

"Fine."