Reasons to Leave (Reasons #1) (31 page)

He could hear music floating through the air from the kitchen, and as he made his way quietly there, she was leaning against the counter top with her back to him. Her head was hanging down as the lyrics of “Already Gone” by Kelly Clarkson tugged at his heart. He paused, taking in the words and watching as Stevie’s shoulders shuddered. This was her way of mentally preparing herself for his departure, he surmised, as he listened to the words that were affecting her so deeply. His heart sank as he ran his hands over his face and walked away. He couldn’t bear to see her this way. Especially when all he wanted was to be with her and she clearly wanted to be with him.

What a crazy situation.

Before she could turn to see him standing there, he silently made his way back upstairs and sat on the bed. As he waited for her to call him down, he tried to think of something to say to ease her pain. He knew that pretending he hadn’t seen her crying would be better, and that this way she would be ready to see him and wouldn’t feel awkward about being caught. But he still racked his brain to try and come up with something, anything that he could do to make the pain go away. He came up blank. Eventually, after another five minutes or so, she appeared in the doorway looking fresh faced. Her hair fell over her shoulders, and a strong urge compelled him to go over and run his fingers through it as he told her he had come up with a solution for them. But it would’ve been a lie.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were going to surface at all, sleepy head.” She smiled.

“Yeah, sorry, I haven’t been awake long, but the smell has got me all hungry, so I was just contemplating coming down. Are you…are you okay, Stevie?” He wondered if she would confess to being upset.

She frowned and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
No confession then.

“No reason…just checking…you know, after last night.”

She grinned and blushed. “Like I said, purely selfish.”
  He smiled back. It made him happy that he had turned her on too.

She turned and walked toward the stairs, giving him a fantastic view of her gorgeous arse in her tight jeans.
God, Jason you’re such a bloke
. He was about to follow her when a faint ringing came from under the bed. Carefully crouching to poke his head under the covers that hung down, he discovered that his phone had somehow ended up under there. Once he retrieved it, the ringing had stopped. He checked for a missed call and didn’t recognise the number.

Shit. Dillon.

He dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen. “I’ve had a missed call from a number I don’t recognise. I think it could be Dillon. I should ring him back.”

“Oh gosh, yes. I’ll put your breakfast in the oven to keep warm. Go and call him.”

He nodded and made his way into the lounge where he hit the return call button. It rang and rang but eventually a male voice answered. “Hello?”

“Oh…hi. I’ve just had a missed call from this number…this is Jason.”

“Oh…right…yeah Jason, it’s Dillon. I was ringing to see if you’d done your usual disappearing act yet.”

Jason clenched his jaw. “No, Dillon, I said I’d stay until we’d talked and I meant it.”

“Yeah, well forgive me for not believing you.”

Jason exhaled heavily. “Look Dillon, I’d really like to talk to you. I need to tell you some stuff—”

“More lies?”

“No, what I have to tell you is going to be difficult to hear, mate, but it’s not lies.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your mate so you can stop calling me that right now. As far as I’m concerned, we share some genes and that’s where our connection ends. The sooner we talk and you say whatever it is you want to say, the sooner you can fuck off back under whatever Scottish rock you crawled out from.”

The harshness of his brother’s words cut him deeply, and he closed his eyes at the physical pain in his stomach. “Whatever, Dillon. Name your place and time and I’ll be there. I’m at Ste…I’m not far away from you at the moment.”

A humourless dark laugh reached his ear. “Well recovered, dickhead. The only sad part is that I knew you’d have manipulated her to get in her knickers again. What other way would you have found out where I live? You couldn’t just leave her alone could you? You had to fucking have her, didn’t you? I just can’t believe she’d be so stupid as to let you in.”

Anger began to bubble to the already fragile surface. “Stop it
right
now. I won’t stand for you talking about her like that. It’s disrespectful and she doesn’t deserve that. Not from you after all she did for Mum.”

“Oh yes, sorry, I forgot she meant the world to you…that you loved her so fucking much. I’m guessing that will have been why you
left
her ten years ago.” Sarcasm oozed thickly down the line.

Jason’s jaw ticked. “Time and place Dillon.”

“Meet me at The Jolly Roger on McMillan Street in an hour. I’ll be the one who doesn’t give a shit.” The line went dead.

Jason walked through to the kitchen again feeling a little shell shocked by the venomous way in which his brother spoke.

Stevie looked up from the magazine she was pretending to read when he entered the room. “How did it go?”

“Oh you know, Let's just say that surgery without anaesthetic would've been less painful.”

She cringed. “Oh, that bad, eh?”

He nodded. “I’m meeting him in an hour at the pub on McMillan.”

“Come and sit down to eat then. You’ll need the strength.”

He sat at the small table, feeling his appetite retreat following the unpleasant few minutes he had experienced and dreading what the next few hours would bring.

****

Jason stood outside the large oak doors of The Jolly Roger, plucking up the courage to enter. He inhaled a deep, calming breath and pushed on the doors. He walked straight to the bar and ordered a Jack Daniels, neat. After knocking it straight back, he ordered another. He felt eyes burning into him and turned around to see his brother with a rather menacing look in his narrowed, dark eyes. With a clenched jaw, he walked over to the corner table and sat opposite Dillon.

“Hi, Dillon.”

“Just get on with it. I’m not interested in small talk. I want you gone. And the sooner you talk, the sooner that happens.”

Jason flared his nostrils, clamped his jaw down, and spoke through gritted teeth. “I get that you don’t like me very much, but just cut the fucking attitude. You have
no clue
why I left. And so you need to stop being so fucking judgemental and aggressive.”

Dillon snarled. “Like I said dick-wad, just get on with it.”

Jason’s fists clenched as he tried to calm the storm raging in his blood. His voice dropped to a low rumble. He spoke only loud enough for his brother to hear but not loud enough to be overheard by other patrons. “Right… I was hoping to do this with a little sensitivity, but I can see that will do no good, and so I’ll just come out and say it.”

He inhaled deeply once again and wiped his sweating palms on his jeans. “He…
Mick
...used to hit me, Dillon. That man you called Dad. And I don’t mean a few petty slaps around the head when I didn’t tidy my room. I’m talking canes, belts, bits of wood…his hand…his fist. Whatever he could get his hands on. Whenever I did anything that he disapproved of or that fell below his high and fucking unrealistic standards, he would
beat
me. I spent so many days avoiding being alone with my own father…avoiding any type of competition or test that would involve me failing, I avoided things that would mean me having to take my shirt off—”

Dillon’s eyes grew wide. He lurched across the table and grabbed a hold of Jason’s T-shirt, his fist held high in readiness. “What a load of utter shit. How fucking
dare
you come back down here and make up such lies?” His tone was incredulous, his expression pained.

Jason held his hands up in a surrender pose. “Hit me again, Dillon, if it helps, but think about what you’re doing. You’re behaving just like him. Is that what you want?” Dillon let go and sat down heavily in his chair again.

Jason sighed in relief. “I was stupidly hoping you’d believe me straight off, but I also knew there was a chance you wouldn’t, and I can’t
make
you believe me. He was good to you. I know that and so I do understand why you wouldn’t believe me…but it’s true.”

Dillon shook his head. “You’re a liar. What the hell would make you spout off such crap? That man was your
dad
and he
loved
you. If we weren’t in a pub right now I’d kick your fucking head in.” He clenched his fists on the table. “He spent loads of money buying you books and shit. Taking you places for your fucking pathetic chess tournaments and such. How can you say things like that about him?”

“Spending money on me doesn’t mean he loved me. He took me places, so that if I lost he could smack me around on the way home without you or Mum seeing him do it. I’m so sorry, Dillon. I hate telling you all this…I really do, but you have to try to understand my reasons for leaving. That was the hardest thing I’ve
ever
done…until now…but it’s all true…” Jason’s emotion filled voice wavered, and Dillon just stared blankly at him for a few minutes.

Dillon’s voice became a whisper, and he shook his head. “I would’ve known…and he would’ve hit me too. He wasn’t like that. I would’ve seen it.”

Jason leaned toward his brother, desperate to comfort him but didn’t dare reach out. “I can’t explain why that didn’t happen, but I was
so
glad it didn’t. I would’ve…I wouldn’t have
let
him hit you.” He ran his hands through his shaggy, long hair. “I stood it for so long…for a hell of a long time… And the only reason I left is because I knew you weren’t getting the same treatment. You were his pride and joy, and I was jealous of that for so long, but I loved you, and I didn’t want you to go through it too.”

“I…I don’t believe you.” Dillon stood to leave. “I’m not staying here to listen to you anymore. Just fuck off back to Scotland and take your lies with you.”

“Okay, I understand why you think all that, but…please…think about it… Do you remember all the times you wanted me to go swimming with you and I refused?”

Dillon snorted. “Yeah, of course I do. You were a wuss, that’s all. Always saying you were scared of the water and couldn’t swim, which is pathetic…
you
were pathetic.” He pointed his finger in Jason’s face.

He looked up at his little brother. “It was nothing to do with that. I was covered in bruises.”

Dillon clenched his fist in front Jason’s face. “No…no that’s a lie. You’re lying.”

Jason slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Remember how I’d always get ready for bed in the bathroom?”

“Again…wuss…God only knows what you thought you had to be ashamed of.”

Jason closed his eyes briefly. “Bruises, Dillon. That’s what I had. Bruises.”

Dillon folded his arms over his chest defensively. “But you did footy at school. If what you’re saying is true, how did you get changed without someone seeing?”

“I always wore a T-shirt under my school shirt. And he used to be clever about hitting me so that the marks were on my back most of the time.”

“But…
why
would he have done it?” The rhetorical question hung in the air between them like a poisonous gas. Dillon’s face was contorted, and he was avoiding eye contact.

“I honestly don’t know. He used to say I was a disappointment and he regretted the day I was born. He’d go on about how much I hurt him and my mum and spoiled everything. I never understood. I don’t think I’ll ever know the real reason why he had so much hate for me…well, not now he’s gone…but I had to leave. I was ready to retaliate, Dillon. I was getting bigger and less willing to take his shit, but I was so determined I wasn’t going to lower myself to his level. Plus I was scared I wouldn’t stop if I hit him back. I have scars, Dillon. Not huge ugly ones thankfully…he was clever…but I have physical scars to go with the mental ones he gave me too.”

“It can’t be true. Not Dad. He’d never do that. It just can’t be true.” He looked pleadingly at Jason.

“I swear to you on my own life…it’s all true.”

Dillon’s eyes widened, he stood up and ran his hands over his head. “And I fucking did the same…at the hospital…I did just the same. I beat you up. No wonder she was so angry with me.” Dillon’s eyes became glassy and he backed away. “I’ve…I’ve got to get out of here. I…I…need some air.” He stormed toward the door only pausing to allow a young loved-up couple to walk in.

Jason followed close behind, pausing whilst the couple’s friends followed them in scowling as Dillon barged through the middle of their group. Once outside, Jason looked up and down the street, but there was no sign of Dillon. In a panic, he walked to the alleyway that ran down the side of the pub. Dillon was by the garbage bins, bent double, throwing up onto the dirty concrete beneath him.