Blood

“Jesus, Reid! I’m not an infant!” I yell at my brother, pushing him away from me and stepping off the stairs without his stupid help.

I’ve been home from the hospital for less than a day and him and my father won’t leave me the fuck alone for two minutes. It’s always, ‘let me help you with this,’ or, ’are you sure you can manage. No. I don’t need any help. Yes, I can fucking manage. It’s all rather infuriating.

Reid takes a step back raising his hands in the air defensively.

“I think you act like one,” says Fletch from the kitchen table where he sits with Sean.

My dad’s working, although I’m not exactly sure what that means. I mean, I know that he works on the docks, but I don’t see what would need done on the docks at six o’clock at night in December.

I don’t respond to my cousin since I’m mad at him. More so than at my brother.

Gram isn’t here, either. Instead she’s at Mattie’s, looking after him and his father. Da had asked them over a couple times, but Uncle Rob had said no, and Mattie hasn’t been saying too much of anything.

Really, Gram didn’t have to go there since she’s not Mattie’s grandmother, but he’s spent a lot of time here, and Gram likes him and my uncle a lot better than she does most of us.

“Your sister’s angry with me, Seanie,” Fletch says in a false whisper.

I shake my head and then scowl when I hear Sean reply, “But you told me she’s always angry.”

Reid smirks at Fletch in a way that means he’ll be happy to see me yell at him, so I just make a nasty face and turn away, crossing the cool wood floor to the rocking chair that Gram normally sits in, right beside the fire.

I sit and pull my legs up onto the chair. After a moment I grab the quilt I’d brought down earlier off the floor and cover myself with it. This is about as far away from the boys as I can get without leaving the room.

“Sean, we’re gonna have to have a bit of a talk about what ya can say in front of your sister, and, uh, what you really shouldn’t,” I hear Fletch say. Or, something close enough to that to make no difference.

Reid laughs, sliding behind the table to the stove where he is cooking some form of food in two pans and a pot. “I think you’d be better off just not repeating anything you hear Fletch say.”

“Why?” Sean asks.

“Yeah, Reid. Why is that?” Fletch echoes in a way that makes it sound like he’s looking for a fight.

I shake my head, feeling a flash of pain dart up my throat. Most of my body is kind of aching, but only slightly. Then I also have a headache that won’t go away, no matter what I try. At least it’s not as bad as it had been.

“It’s ’cause you’re an idiot, David,” I say as I look away from them, towards the fire.

“By God, Reid! What happened to your voice?” Fletch says, making Sean giggle.

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it.

“Oh, Lorna, I’m only teasing.”

I pull my blanket tighter around myself without looking away from the fireplace.

I like to watch fire. I’m not exactly sure why, but I think it’s pretty.

And I don’t want to talk to Fletch, so there’s that, too.

There’s a knock on the door, which makes me get up and smile slightly.

“Who’s that?” Fletch asks, to which Reid replies, “Who do you think it is, mate?”

I pull open the heavy front door and step outside, pulling it shut behind me.

“Hi,” I say to Mallory.

“Hi,” he replies, glancing at the door behind me for a second and then smiling at me.

He’s not wearing a jacket, only a long sleeved black sweater. I don’t understand how he can do that since I’ve only been outside for a couple seconds yet I can feel the cold biting at my covered arms and legs.

“You look nice,” he says, looking me up and down, his eyes pausing at the still present bruises on my neck and then resting on my face.

I make a face. “I look the same as I always do, Mallory.”

His lips quirk a bit, which seems rather out of character. “I know.”

I smile a bit, even though it makes me feel kind of stupid.

“So…why are we out here?” he asks, looking behind him for a second and then turning back to me again.

“Uh,” I say since I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to talk to Mallory. The last time I saw him I yelled at him for threatening to kill George. The last time I saw him I also kissed him and asked him over for dinner.

Mallory’s smile widens and he takes a step closer to me so that there’s barely any space between us. He cups my cheek and I feel myself shiver. A little uncomfortably. This isn’t how Mallory acts. I mean, he could be drunk, I guess.

“Are you drunk?” I ask him.

He backs up a bit, looking a bit hurt. “Of course not.”

“Well you’re acting fu—”

Except Mallory leans forward and kisses me before I can finish.

I’m about to push him away and scream at him, and then I forget why the hell I would want to do that.

Mallory’s hand slides down to my ass and pulls me closer to him.

He stops kissing me, which is agony.

“We should probably go inside,” he says quietly.

“Why?” I ask and Mallory’s smile grows to a broader grin than I’ve ever seen.

“We wouldn’t want to keep your brother waiting.”