Blood

So somehow I’ve found myself lying across the backseat of my brother’s grey car, my head on Fletch’s reluctant lap and Reid and Mattie in the front seats. For some reason, my brother seems to think I need to occasionally leave the house, with people, to go and see more people. It’s a stupid idea if you ask me, but yet again my bastardly brother didn’t and then continued to ignore all protest.

I think the basic plan is to go and buy food-like things. Meaning, the reason I’m required to come is because Reid doesn’t want to be solely responsible for buying food our Gram won’t eat. Now what I still don’t understand is why our cousins are here as well. And why it’s both of them. I mean, it’s not like they’re related any more than most Islanders, so there ain’t any reason to have them both.

Then again, Fletch does make a half decent pillow.

That being said, my pillow is a much better pillow.

Another thing I don’t get about my brother is how quickly he forgives almost everything. Like, it was only a few days ago that he decided he’d washed his hands of me, and now he’s back to forcing me to go shopping with him.

“So, tell me again why there’s four of us?” I ask.

“That ain’t proper English,” says Fletch, who’s been attempting to braid my hair for the past couple minutes. He still hasn’t figured out how, which I think is kind of funny.

“Neither was that!” I say, lifting my head to look at him, unfortunately as the car hits a bump.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“Sit up,” says Fletch.

“Let go of my hair!”

Reid hits another bump.

I really do sit up, pulling my hair away from Fletch and scowling at my brother. “Goddammit, Reid! You did that on purpose!”

He scoffs. “Did not.”

“Fucking bastards,” I mutter.

“Oi, the ink was almost dry when I was born,” Fletch says.

Fletch has always had the burden of being an only child from a rushed marriage, which I think would be pretty hard, like, knowing that your parents only got married because you were going to be born. Fletch is even worse, since he was born about two weeks after the wedding. ’Course he claims that means he’s a good luck charm for whatever reason. I think it’s because he had the grace to be born late instead of early.

“And if I’m a bastard, then you are too,” Reid adds.

“Anything from you, Mathew?” Fletch asks.

“I’m good,” Mattie says.

“Wuss,” says Fletch as we hit yet another bump.

Judging by a glance out the window, we’re half way to Kappamor.

“Fine then, you’re all mules. How’s the grammar check on that one?”

Fletch opens his mouth to say something but Mattie says, “What did I do?” before he has the chance.

“You’re alive, buddy. That’s enough to piss off Lorna,” Fletch says.

“Shut up, David.”

Fletch smirks. “See that? What did I do? Absolutely nothing. Yet she feels the need to use my name.”

I roll my eyes and look out the window, away from my crazy cousin.

It’s sunny out today, so all the snow is all shiny, like quartz. A herd of sheep are dotted across the plain of snow, pawing at the ground, likely trying to find some grass beneath the half foot of snow. Good luck to them.

Fletch pokes me with something that feels like a stick, but I can’t see Reid letting anyone have a stick in his car, nor do I remember Fletch bringing a stick with him.

I turn and see the would-be handle end of a broken and blue umbrella propped up against my shoulder.

Worse yet, he didn’t do it for any reason since he turns back to the front, mostly in Mattie’s direction.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen anyone use a seatbelt, meaning nobody in Reid’s car is wearing one, making it a lot easier to look at people while talking, unless you’re Reid, since he almost always drives.

“So you’ve heard that your sweetheart’s pregnant, eh, Mattie?” Fletch says.

Mattie looks back at Fletch. He doesn’t quite look upset, but something like it. Maybe he’s disappointed.

“Uh, yeah…I think everyone on the Island knows that,” he says.

I frown a little. “Well I didn’t. Who’s she pregnant by?”

Fletch laughs. “Justin Fionn, poor kid. I mean, Cynthia’s mad enough on her own, in the better sense,” he adds to Mattie, “But with Justin…well…that’s going to be a different kind of kid.”

“To think what the island girls will do with both of the Fionns tied up. Might need to stoop to the likes of us,” Reid says in a way that makes it seem like he’s smirking.

Mattie laughs, but Fletch just looks at them both, smiling but vaguely. “Both? What girl’s gone as far as to fuck the baby Fionn before visiting me?”

Both Reid and Mattie laugh as heat begins to rush to my cheeks.

Fletch frowns, “Is something funny, Mathew?” he says it in the kind of intimidating voice that normally works on Mattie, but never Reid.

We’re just pulling up to the first Kappamor houses when Mattie says, “That would be our cousin. I think you might have to forgive her for, uh, not paying you a ‘visit’ first.”

Fletch pokes me again with the umbrella, smirking—but almost sourly. “So how much did he win then? Let’s think, what did Hannagan put up…”

I scowl at him and grab the umbrella from his hand. “He ain’t won nothing since I have not fucked him. And I’m not going to! We aren’t bloody together, and we ain’t going to be!” I turn away, my face feeling horribly scarlet.

My cousin laughs obnoxiously. “Well, sounds like love to me.”

“Oh, she ain’t in ruddy love, she just wants a fuck-buddy,” says Reid crossly.

“Hey!”

But Fletch just laughs, “Well, I guess it’s about time. What? Wanted a little nun, Reid?”

I throw the umbrella at him, but Fletch only laughs harder.

“At least it’s not Justin,” Mattie says to Reid.

“Give me that umbrella,” I say to Fletch.

Reid’s eyes flash in the rear-view mirror. “Quit throwing that fucking umbrella around my car!”

Fletch laughs again, high and maniacal. “Well done, love, you really got him mad.”

“Shut up,” I say at the same time my brother does.

What’s that thing about twins saying the same thing?

“Jesus-fucking-redheads,” Fletch mutters as he lies back against his seat. “Then again, could just be the Owens blood. What you think, Mathew?”

Mattie laughs. “Fuck, everyone knows it’s you Fletchers that are crazy.”

Fletch sits up and grabs the back of Mattie’s seat, likely intending to say something less than kind, but then he ends up being thrown to the side as Reid takes the rough corner. Normally, he slows down first and takes it better than probably everyone else on the island, but him and Fletch always do that kind of shit to each other.

I can’t help but laugh, which earns me a look from Fletch and a smile in the rear-view mirror from Reid.

“Alright, so me and Fletch have to go into Eddie’s, yeah?” Reid asks.

“Eh, anything to get me out of this car,” Fletch says.

But Reid scoffs. “More like your mother’ll skin you if you go home without anything to add to her stews.”

“That, too.”

I shake my head and stare at the butcher’s shop as Reid pulls the car into a decent place to park.

I have mixed feelings about the place. I like meat, in general, especially beef and pork, and both of those only come from the butcher’s shop. I also like Eddie more than most people. He’s not one of the brightest men on the island, but he’s kind, even to me. And then on the negative, there’s his horrible son, Jamie. Even when he’s not being a jackass, he’s being a jackass. Jesus, it’s terrible how badly he wants to lay me. I honestly figure that if he got me alone, like, really alone, he wouldn’t care what I said or did, he’s end up with his shitty prize money, one way or another.

“Are you coming?” My brother asks me.

I shake my head, which makes Reid frown.

“I’ll stay with her,” Mattie says.

I can’t help but frown at him and the other two boys in turn. I don’t need a ruddy babysitter.

But before I can voice anything, both Reid and Fletch have climbed out of the car and slammed their doors.

I snarl at the seat in front of me. Probably kind of stupid and very immature, but I don’t really care.

It’s kind of cold in the car, even with my jacket on, and I don’t feel like talking to Mattie. It’s not like he’s done anything, but my stomach is starting to feel kind of rotten, which is making me feel shitty.

Mattie fidgets in the front seat, wrestling with something, likely something he wants to say to me. “I reckon you haven’t heard about the little Mueller.”

I try to think of something that could involve Beth and Sam’s little children, but the only thing that comes to mind is the fey.

“Which one?”

“The girl. Nina,” he says.

“They took her, then.”

He nods and then shakes his head, turning around to look at me. “I mean, she’s been gone for a couple days, so she might have just gotten lost, but even then…”

He trails off, because even then, she would have frozen to death. It’s much more likely, though, that she was found by a Wood Dweller.

Every house on the island has something iron over the entrances, salt along the window sills and holy water sprinkled down the lane, all of which are said to ward off the fey. Even though we’ve never had any livestock, our whole property is fenced, and the fences looked after, then the acre the house sits on is fenced off again, just because there’ve been children in our house since before anyone can remember. And I think it’s worked, since I’m pretty sure only two Owens kids have ever been taken. Most of the older families have lost at least half a dozen.

Most of the children that the fey take are lost outside of the house, playing in their yard or whatnot. When I was almost taken, we’d been at my grandparents—the Owens, who are both dead now—playing with one of the chickens.

I hate how relieved I feel that it’s not Seanie. I think Beth and Sam’s kids are both decent enough, but I can’t find a place in me to regret little Nina being taken, and she couldn’t have been eight yet. She might have even been Sean’s age.

“What’s today again?”

“Tuesday,” Mattie says.

I roll my eyes, even though it probably wasn’t warranted. “Of the month.”

“Oh, the second.”

“So there’s still time for them to take a second...” I say, which makes Mattie frown with his whole face.

“You could act like you care for at least a couple minutes.”

I want to tell him that I do care, but it would be a lie. The more I think about it, the less it means for Sean’s safety, so I really don’t care as much as a human being should. I really am a God awful person, so I just look away.

“Sorry,” Mattie says.

“Why?” I ask, turning my gaze back to the front.

He frowns in a different way. “If I had a kid I guess I’d be the same way.”

“You know that there are other girls on the island than Cynthia Quigley,” I say, trying not to smile, since he really is upset. Although it may have just sounded like an average passing remark, I’d bet money that Mattie had been thinking that he wouldn’t have any kids, since he wouldn’t find anyone. He’s a bit of a…I can’t remember the word…pest…pessimist, that’s it. He’s normally pretty cheery, but he really doesn’t think much of himself.

“I know that,” he says, a little crossly.

“Really? ’Cause you aren’t acting like you do.”

“They could break up,” he says hopefully.

“Mathew Hather, you aren’t listening to me! Are you listening to yourself?” I throw the broken umbrella at him, which he dodges, but then looks at me with eyes the size of dinner plates. “How would you take care of a baby? There’s nicer girls, there’s prettier girls, hell, I bet there’s even a few that aren’t pregnant and still all you can do is mope over the girlfriend you never had!”

He looks down at the edge of the seat, his cheeks red.

I jump when the door to my left opens, and then feel stupid about it when I realise that it’s only Fletch, except there’s something off about him, something missing from his face.

The trunk slams, which makes me jump again. I hadn’t noticed that it had opened, I had been too busy yelling at Mattie.

I expect Fletch to laugh at that, but he doesn’t, he just looks at me with…pity?

“Is something wrong?” I say crossly. I don’t like being pitied.

The driver’s door opens and Reid slides in. He doesn’t start the car. Instead he looks back at me over the seat.

“For Christ’s sake! What is the matter with you two?”

Fletch and Reid look at each other for a minute, then Reid bites his lip.

“Your, um…Mallory…he…his neck’s broken. I’m sorry, Lorna.”

“He what?” I say, because I don’t know what else to say. Mallory’s dead this time. And they know it. He ain’t lost, he’s dead.

My already uneasy stomach flips, and I feel like I need to vomit, but my throat also feels tight, and I don’t know why. We aren’t—weren’t—together, I don’t care about him…I didn’t think I did…

“Something about bees, or wasps, maybe. He’s been in bed for a week, Eddie says they don’t think he’ll be getting up,” Fletch adds.

Don’t think…

“So he’s alive?” I ask, turning to both Reid and Fletch.

“Well, yes…” Reid says, a little reluctantly.

“But they don’t know how long he’ll stay that way,” Fletch finishes.

I hear the second part, but I don’t really care. “Then I want to see him.”

“Lorna,” Reid starts, obviously planning to advise me on what a terrible idea it is.

“I don’t care, Reid. I want to see him.”