Behind the Pitch, a novella: Seeking Serenity 1.5 (8 page)

“Let’s get a few things straight.” She lifts her index finger as though she’s ticking off a list of annoying caveats. “One, Autumn knows I’m here. I wouldn’t have come without telling her.” When I nod, she raises her eyebrow as though daring me to interrupt with a million questions about my ginger angel. “Two,” another finger goes up, “for the record, I think you’re both being stubborn and ridiculous, which I told her.” Sayo reaches into her bag and pulls out that damn letter. The one that started this entire mess. She folds it out on the surface of the table and smooths out the crinkles. “My father is a lawyer, don’t know if you knew that, but Joe asked me personally to have a look at this.”

The chair I’m sitting in whines when I sit back and fold my arms over my chest. Joe is a smooth arsehole, asking Sayo for favors, assuring that she’s on his side of things. Sayo uses my empty cup to hold the letter flat on the table. An old VW bug passes in front of the coffee shop, splashing water next to our feet. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about Joe.”

“I know you didn’t, but he’s been nice to me, and I think he’s really worried about you.” When I don’t look at her, Sayo smacks my shoulder hard.

“Jaysus, what’s that about?” I have to rub my arm to keep the throbbing at bay. Sayo might be tiny, but she delivers a hell of a punch.

“That was for hitting your ailing stepdad. Really, Declan, what the hell?”

“I was hacked off.”

“Yes, well, you need to learn to control your temper.” She challenges me with another lifted eyebrow and I’m not too keen to receive an additional throttle so I placate her with a curt nod. “Now,” she says, smiling like she’s a bit too pleased with herself, “I’m going to tell you what my dad said about this letter.”

“Jaysus, has everyone in town read that buggering thing?”

Sayo’s shoulders lower, but she manages not to roll her eyes. “No. Just Joe, my dad and me. I don’t even think Autumn read it. Joe asked for an interpretation, that’s all.”

I know that if I ignore her, she’ll just yammer on until she’s had her say, anyway. All I care about is finding how Autumn is, what’s she’s said to Sayo. Does she miss me? God, does she hate me? If that means I have to endure endless lawyer babble to get what I want, then so be it.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like the waiting.

Resigned, I slump against the back of my chair and nod to the annoying Japanese cutie in front of me. “Get on with it then.”

“Okay, so basically, Mrs. O’Malley’s will is connected to her husband’s.” Sayo avoids my eyes by scanning the letter again. “Um, your father Micah.”

“And?” I have no intention of making this easy for her.

“And…,” again her dark eyes move over the paper, “Micah’s will set aside an inheritance for you to be released at his wife’s death. My dad said it was unusual, but not uncommon. Basically when there is a question of paternity, stipulations can be set so that the potential heirs will have what’s due them.”

I laugh. It a small, bitter sound that I don’t think Sayo understands. What’s due me? That’s a joke. It has to be. When Sayo frowns, her knee shaking as though she’s uncomfortable about my reaction, I move my hand, urge her to continue. “What else?”

“It seems that Mrs. O’Malley tried to have you written completely out of the will. When she couldn’t do that because of the stipulations Micah left, she added an addendum.”

“Which was?”

“You have to agree to take a DNA test.”

“I’m sorry?” Sayo pushes the letter in front of me, but I don’t bother to even glance at it.

“He left you fifty thousand pounds, Declan, but the estate won’t give you a penny until you prove that you are Micah’s heir.”

I blink twice and release a loud, echoing laugh. “You’re joking.”

“No. I’m not. That’s what the letter says right…” she points her orange fingernail to a section in the middle of the letter, “there. You have to submit your DNA for testing. If the results are positive then the estate cannot contest your inheritance.”

“And how exactly are they going to test my DNA against a dead man’s?”

“Well, that’s the thing.” Sayo gets up from her spot to lean in next to me, working her fingers over the pages until she comes to a final section. “See here?” she says, nodding down at the paper. “It says that your DNA will be compared with, well, the other heir.”

“Other heir?”

I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me that I wasn’t O’Malley’s only kid. Not like the bugger seemed able to keep it in his pants.

“That’s what it says.” Sayo moves back to her seat, leaving the letter in front of me.

“You mean a sibling?” The idea has me conflicted a bit. Do I care about having a blood relative? Would they care about me? They’d have to know I exist if I’m mentioned by name in this document.

“That’s what my dad thinks, yes.” She keeps her eyes diverted, messes with the flaking paint on her fingernails—a nervous habit when she’s out of sorts or feeling awkward. “It would have to be either a sibling or maybe someone directly related to your father, like brothers or sisters. The other heir isn’t mentioned further.”

Joe knew. This whole time he would have known about the faceless relatives I have back home. He grew up there. He told me himself he knew about O’Malley and my mum, it’s no large stretch to assume he knew the whole O’Malley clan, knew exactly who my kin was.

Sayo finally settles her eyes on my face and I can tell by the small line denting between her eyebrows that she’s expecting a reaction from me. Maybe she thinks I’ll freak out. Maybe she’s hoping I’ll be grateful to her and her da. I’m really not, to be honest.

“And what did Joe say about all of this?”

The wrinkle deepens and I catch the frown Sayo tries to hide. “Not much, but I have to be honest, Declan. I got the feeling he wasn’t shocked.”

It’s all the confirmation I need. Fecking, old bollocks. The letter crumbles in my hand and I toss it in the bin next to the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” Sayo says.

“I don’t give a flying fart about some dead man and his money. It’s not important to me. Not one buggering pence.”

“Declan, that’s a lot of money.” When I only stare at her, Sayo falters, pushes her hair behind her ear.

“I know what it is and I don’t care. I don’t care that my mum shagged another woman’s husband. I don’t care if it was a pity fuck or a drunken shag or something they did to pass the time. If I’m being honest, I don’t really care that Joe knew all this shite about me and didn’t say a buggering word. I only care about Autumn. She’s all that matters. I care that she’s hacked off at me. I care that she won’t speak to me. I care that I can’t see her, can’t touch her. It’s killing me, Sayo.” My voice has gone all pitchy and soft and I hate that my vision is blurring. I hate that Sayo can see this. I hate that she’ll likely tell Autumn what a weak, pathetic sod I am, but I can’t help it. I’m useless without her. “She’s not here and I don’t know what to do with myself. So this sibling I’ve got somewhere back home can have all of O’Malley’s money. I don’t want any of it. I only want Autumn. Do you understand? I want her to forgive me. To speak to me again, to put me out of my fecking misery.”

Sayo’s body sags and she plops into the seat next to me. She takes to flicking against the paint on her nails again. “You fucked up, you know that, right?”

“I do.”

Instantly, she shakes her head. “I don’t think you understand, Declan. You know Autumn. You know her fears. After everything you guys went through, after putting herself out there for you, you walked away from her.”

“I was angry.” It’s no excuse, I know that. Sayo knows I know that. I only wish Autumn did. “But I didn’t think she’d want me to stay away.”

“To her, everyone leaves. You see that, don’t you?” When I lower my head on the table, trying to conceal my leaking eyes, Sayo touches my shoulder, gives it a small pat. Her voice comes out softer, more controlled when she speaks again. “I know it’s irrational. I know you may not get it, but you’re the first guy since Tucker that she’s let in. You’re her first real love.”

“And I’ll be her last, if she’ll have me back.” I say, my head popping up.

“Well, you’re going to have to prove that to her, aren’t you?”

“How the hell do I do that? Tell me what to do.” Sayo’s fingers are cold when I grab her hand. “I’ll do anything. Any fecking thing at all.”

The expression on her face is a puzzle. I know she’s considering my pathetic, whiney state, trying to gage if I’m really as broken up over Autumn’s radio silence as I seem to be. I get it. Sayo is Autumn’s best friend. They’re more like sisters and I’m just some arsehole who showed up making promises I haven’t managed to keep.

Finally, Sayo smiles and her body relaxes. “Do something monumental. Something that proves to Autumn that you care more about her than anything.”

“Like what?”

She shrugs. “You need to figure that out for yourself. Autumn doesn’t like words.” She collects her things, throws her bag over her shoulder before she moves from the table to stare down at me. “She’s about action. And Declan, if you love her, if you
really
love her, then you have to show her. Actions, not words. Monumental actions.”

I’d never had anything all to my own.

Not really.

When you’re a poor kid in Ireland, you get used to that sort of thing; the distain of wanting things that can’t be yours, the sense that the things you do want are just out of reach. Over time, you come to understand that what you want for yourself, anything you want for yourself, you can only manage if you take it. Or if you earn it.

My step-da made sure, once he came back into my life, that I did not go without. He worked very hard to give me the things I’d never had when it was just Mum and me. Eventually, the wanting went away, but with that came the understanding that you have to appreciate the rare gems you are given.

I’ve never wanted anything like I wanted Autumn McShane. Oh, I knew she wasn’t a thing. She was much more than so many
things
. And when I said I wanted her, I didn’t mean I wanted a quick shag, thank you, that’s all and I’m done.

I wanted her to touch me and mean it.

I wanted to wake up in the mornings to the smell of her hair across my chest.

I wanted to touch her body, to have her touch mine and know that this is who loves me, this is who I love.

I never wanted to put that shocked, hurt expression on her face again. The same one she wore when I walked away from her.

Because of secrets.

They are not my secrets, but I cannot tell her that. And Morrison. Fecking, buggering, pouncy Tucker arsehole Morrison and his bleeding threats.

“Stay away from Autumn, Fraser. Stay away or you’ll lose a hell of a lot more than your spot on the squad. I’ll make sure of it.”

He knew the secret that wasn’t mine to tell. He knew that if Autumn discovered it, she’d hate me. I wouldn’t blame her. And there I was on the pitch, watching her talk to that amadan Morrison with the sad, angry expression on her face. Heather was blabbering on to me about something I didn’t hear, because my attention was on McShane. And Morrison. And how close he stood next to her; to the smug, satisfied expression on his face.

He’d found me out, somehow. He knew my family history and that Autumn was part of it. And he knew that she didn’t know
how
we were connected, or that we were connected at all.

She only knew that this morning while I trained the girls, I couldn’t keep my hands off her. She knew that I thought about our date all night. Couldn’t sleep for the recall of every detail. She knew that I just broke it off with her. She didn’t know that it was forced, that I would have rather gouged out my eyes than leave her be.

Because of “not mine” secrets.

I wanted to kill Morrison.

I wanted to punch Joe in the throat.

I wanted Heather to leave me alone.

I wanted Autumn’s face to be frown free.

I wanted her. Just her. Only her. But if she knew what I must keep to myself, for now at least, she wouldn’t look at me twice.

She’d hate me.

So, I didn’t do what I wanted to do. I didn’t take what I wanted to take. I didn’t run up to where Autumn and Morrison were talking, and knock that satisfied grin off his face. I didn’t throw McShane over my shoulder and cart her away so that she was well away from that arsehole. And I didn’t tell Heather to piss off.

And I
really
wanted to tell her to piss off, trust me.

I just stared at Autumn, accepted the glare she gave me.

“Declan? Did you hear me?” Heather asked, pulling my attention off my McShane.

“Sorry. What’s that now?”

“I asked if you wanted to grab a bite to eat.” I didn’t move Heather’s hand from my chest, not when Morrison touched McShane.
Hands off, arsehole.
But if I went after them, that would only confuse Autumn. I gave her the toss just minutes before. Me telling her to stay clear of her ex would be barmy. Heather ran her nails down my arm, made me stare down at her.

Maybe if I talked to Heather, kept her around a bit, then I won’t be tempted to annoy Autumn. Maybe diverting my attention would help keep my mind off of where it’s stayed for weeks now.