Chapter Twenty-Nine

"I'm surprised you were able to convince him," Mark says, stroking my shoulder loosely. He's eyeing up Eddie, who is innocently making us all tea, but Mark watches as if he expects Eddie to try dose us with arsenic any moment.

"He would have lost an entire chain of training courses if he pulled out last second," I say. Not that Chris would give it a second thought. "I told him I'd be staying with you, and he can do all his lawyer business over the phone."

"Lawyer business?"

"He wants to get a restraining order. Make sure Ronan has to keep his distance." I explain.

Eddie approaches with tea as the front door opens.

I look up to see Sebastian walking in; clothes rumbled and clearly slept in.

"Where did you crash last night?" Eddie asks, eyeing him up.

"Car," Sebastian croaks. He strides straight to Eddie and takes his tea right out of his hands. He flops into the reclining armchair opposite us and releases a long, weary sigh. "I'm getting all the freedom out of my system before the weekend."

"What's this weekend?" I ask. "Oh," I remember before he has the chance to answer. I glance at Mark. "It's your family's dance, right? The one you didn't want to go to."

Mark finally gives up glaring at Eddie to gaze at me, his eyes brightening. "You should come," he says.

"I should go to the family dance you both seem horrified about attending? You're really selling it to me here…"

"It'll be far from horrible if you're there," Mark declares, and I can see from his expression that he's taking to the idea.

I shift uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I'm able for ball-like activities," I admit softly.

Mark leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek, and lowers his voice. "I've seen how capable you are of many kinds of physical activities, babe." He pulls back as my face reddens. "We can go to a class, see how you find the dancing. Seb, you can come along. Call whoever's car you slept in last night to join us."

Eddie looks at Mark, and I swear Mark sees the look, but ignores it.

"And Eddie can bring Bethany," I say.

"Eddie doesn't like dancing," Mark replies before Eddie can.

"And Bethany loves it. She'd love to go to a class." I stare off with Mark until he folds.

"Fine. Eddie can come," he says.

I was too preoccupied with Mark stonewalling Eddie to realise I'd agreed. I've danced on nights out before and enjoyed it, depending on the amount of drinks I had in my system. But I haven't tried anything like waltzing or ballroom dancing in the past. I hold down my nerves. It didn't occur to me that I could pass the ball yesterday, and I managed that with ease. And I have had the niggling worry that Mark might find himself growing bored with stationary dates. How will I know what I'm capable of if I don't try?

I don't know who Mark calls, but by the time we're finished our tea, he has us booked into a dancing lesson that day and just after lunch, our group walks into a small dance studio in the city. Bethany ditched classes to attend, as did Tommy, who apparently is the owner of the car Sebastian crashed in last night.

Tommy sidles up to me as we wait for the dance teacher to show up. "You're all looking a little pale today," he remarks.

Bethany, in a vibrant green dress that makes her red hair shine like a flame, walks by. "Pale," I repeat, as we both track her walk to Eddie, who watches her with a rather besotted expression.

"I know why Seb is tired, but you and Mark—forget it, I've just realised what I'm saying," Tommy backtracks quickly.

I don't want to get into it just before the activities start. "There was a small incident yesterday. I'll tell you about it later."

Tommy looks between Mark and Eddie, clearly noticing the hostility brimming over on Mark's side. His gaze sharpens on Eddie. "Did he—"

"No!" I groan. "Don't even suggest it. I'm having enough issues with Mark right now. In fact, Eddie helped me yesterday."

"Issues with me?" Mark swoops in, body bumping Tommy away from my left side, and he plants himself there.

I catch myself from scolding him. He did this earlier too, when we were walking on the sidewalk, when my gaze had been darting around, seeking out an unwelcome face. I hadn't minded it then. Something about Mark's tall form at my vulnerable side had felt reassuring. However, I don't need reassurances of protection from Tommy.

Tommy scowls at the displacement and whacks Mark's shoulder in a far-too-hard greeting. "Still an asshole, asshole."

Mark responds with a similar unfriendly whack.

"Mark," I say as Tommy walks away to join Sebastian against the wall. "You can't pick fights with everyone."

"He was practically on top of you."

"He was not."

"Oh, look, there's the teacher," Mark says, completely ignoring my complaint.

"Mark . "

Mark plants a kiss on my cheek. "Don't worry if you step on my toes," he says.

I shrug him off with a grumble.

The teacher, a young woman named Riona, introduces herself and begins the lesson. Sebastian and Tommy have already started, Sebastian coaching Tommy to an orchestra playing an upbeat tune over the stereo. Eddie and Bethany listen intently to her instructions, but Mark snags my hand and leads me away, promptly commencing a private lesson. I pay attention, following his lead. I'm uncertain in my steps, but gradually I gain confidence as Mark leads me around the hall several times.

He literally crashes himself into Eddie's side, all elbows, and whirls me away before Eddie can do anything more than curse after him.

"Mark!"

But my scolding is lost in Mark's grin. And after a few bangs, Mark calls out the occasional tip to Eddie and Bethany, his voice having lost its acid bite.

"You've forgiven him," I say as we pause to give my leg a rest.

Mark shrugs, noncommittal.

"You pick fights a lot, you know," I say. "Chris, Tommy, and now Eddie. And there was our battle the past two years."

"We weren't fighting; we were flirting," Mark says, offering me a bottle of water. "If anything, it was accidental friendly fire rather than a battle." He sits next to me—on my left, of course—and nudges his shoulder to mine. "How is it feeling now?"

"It's okay. And, yeah," I grin. "I guess you're right."

"I'll stop by the pharmacy on the way home to get a proper ice bag for you. And, if it's okay, I'll pop out of the house for a few minutes once we're back. Pick up some clothes from yours, if you don't mind giving me the house key."

My grin fades. "I'll come with you."

"No," Mark says. "I don't want to risk any chance at all of a run-in. I'd lend you clothes to wear so you could get by until Chris is back, but you need your sleeves."

I release a long breath, sinking against Mark's side, and placing my chin on his shoulder. "I'll agree if you bring Eddie. And before you say it, I know you don't need backup. But I'd feel better if the two of you went together."

Mark releases a long-suffering sigh. "I'll bring him."

After a rest, we return to the floor with the others. Riona gives all of us her stamp of approval by the end of the session, and I walk out with my arm wrapped around Mark's waist. Relaxed. I'm tired from not getting much sleep and the stress of yesterday, but my mood is better. I danced with Mark in front of people. We're making physical contact. I'm not back to where I started. Yesterday was just a small blip. A misstep. And those? Those I've had plenty of. I can recover.

My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts.

"Hey," I answer. "Isn't it the middle of the night there?"

" I'm on Irish time. " Chris's voice is husky. Thick. As if he'd either just woken up or was about to fall asleep.

"Are you calling to check in?" I ask. But there's something in his voice that catches my attention. An unhappiness. An unease.

Chris sighs. " I can't get the restraining order. "

I come to an abrupt stop in front of Mark's car. A bolt of panic shoots through me, quickly followed by a towering wave of unease. I do my best to swallow it all down as I pull away from Mark and instead lean against the side of the car. Mark watches me closely as I move.

"You can't?" I ask, trying my best to mask my emotions.

" I'm coming home. "

"No. Chris, don't. You have to make your living," I say quickly before sighing too. "What's the problem? It's been too long?" I should have realised it wouldn't be possible. It's not like anything that happened before was put into writing. Nothing was reported. Nobody was charged. Chris just took me away from the situation and nobody ever tried to reach out and take me back.

" The court only passes restraining orders when it's part of an active case. "

And it's not as if we have a case. Ronan approaching me wasn't exactly grounds for a criminal arrest. If everyone filed lawsuits when a family member asked them for money, half the country would be in jail.

"I see." My voice comes out thick despite my best efforts. "It's okay, Chris." I can feel his unhappiness through the phone. "I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not stuck in the house with him without a way out."

" I can still—"

"Don't even think about booking a ticket," I warn. "I'm staying with Mark until you're back anyway and you're already there, so just do your job or you're not going to have any money for that lawyer of yours."

Chris sighs a good four times before saying, " Fine. I'll talk to him again and see if we can figure something out together. In the meantime, stick next to Mark. "

"Get some sleep, Chris." I hang up and drop my head, taking in deep breaths.

Mark leans against the car next to me.

"Touching a no-go right now?" he asks.

In answer, I rest my temple against his shoulder. He promptly wraps his arm around my shoulders.

"Did you hear all that?"

"I did. Would a restraining order make you feel safer?"

I think about lying. Instead, I shrug. "I mean, yeah. But I'll be fine either way. Like I said to Chris, I just have to be stronger." I went through so much with my leg and physical therapy, surely nothing Ronan could throw at me now could possibly compare? A shiver of apprehension whispers down my spine. A warning that echoes in my bones that I'm underestimating my brother's ability to cut deeper than I can anticipate.

"Fuck that."

I startle, my face jerking up to see Mark's scowl. "What?" I ask, voice high in surprise.

"You're strong enough already. Not wanting to deal with that piece of crap doesn't mean you're not strong." Mark digs out his phone as he talks and taps at the screen angrily with his thumb. A second later, he has it pressed to his ear. "Damien," Mark greets.

I recall that Damien is Mark's older brother. The one he said he only gets along with sometimes. The one he never answers the phone for. I can't quite hear what Damien is saying, and Mark rubs my side as he listens.

"Who said I was coming to the party?" Mark asks, voice full of insolence.

My eyebrows lift, surprise shooting through me at his tone. I've never heard him use that tone with anyone before.

"Uh huh… Right… Maybe, then. If you do something for me." Another pause. "My boyfriend needs a restraining order against his brother. Ronan Burke. If you can get that, I'll consider going." Mark hangs up.

"Do you always talk to your brother like that?" I ask. Although, I'm not totally shocked. After all, I've seen hints of Mark's preference for control and being in charge. I feel as though I've seen the progression of where Mark's controlling personality can lead; bossy dominance. Is that how he'll be with me down the line? He already seems to find persuading me a piece of cake most of the time…

"I never attend the Christmas party for free." Mark shrugs. "What? You're the same with Chris; you just use subtler means of persuasion."

I baulk at the thought of trying to boss Chris like that. "I've never—what are you talking about? I've never talked to Chris that way."

Mark rolls his eyes.

"Mark! I haven't. I swear."