Page 14 of Having Henley
Seven
Conner
My phone is ringing.
At 3AM.
Fuck.
Someone better be dead because, Jesus Christ, just because I’m awake doesn’t mean I want to talk to anyone right now.
Looking at the screen, I feel my shoulders tighten. I recognize the number. It’s my friend, Ryan. We haven’t talked in months, and the last time we did talk, he asked me for a favor I wasn’t too keen on giving.
Henley’s coming to Boston. She wants to see my dad—can you go with her? Make sure she’s okay.
Not our dad. My dad. It’s an accurate statement. Jack O’Connell hasn’t been Henley’s dad since she was sixteen.
Not that he ever really was.
As soon as Ryan said her name, I’m glad I decided to step into the hallway to take the call. I felt my chest constrict. My palms started to sweat. I had a hard time swallowing. I opened my mouth to tell him no. No, I can’t help you. I can’t help her. Ask Declan. Patrick. Fuck, ask Mrs. McGintey and her shit dog to go with Henley to see your dad. Anyone but me. Because I’m not doing it.
I can’t.
When I open my mouth that’s not what comes out.“When?” I say, squeezing my eyes shut the second it comes out and contemplate ramming my head into the nearest wall just to shut myself up.
“Not sure, really,” Ryan answers. “She’s got a bug up her ass about it, but if I know my mom, she’s throwing up every roadblock she can to keep her from coming. Doesn’t want her consorting with us dirty commoners.” There’s no mistaking the trace of bitterness in his tone. I pretend not to hear it. “Anyway, it might be awhile.” He pauses, the line between us filling with static before he continues. “I’m heading out on a thing, and I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to call again. I just wanted to make sure she was taken care of before I leave,” he says, talking in code as usual.
Ryan’s an Army Ranger. A thing could be anything from a routine patrol to toppling a small government. I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to call again means it might be never. Every time one of us talks to Ryan, we are acutely aware that it could be the last time we ever hear his voice.
“I’ll take care of her,” I say, my mouth making sound without my permission again.
Fuck me.
“Alright man,” he says, clearing his throat. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” I say before he has the chance to hang up. “Why me? Why not Declan or Patrick?”
He could’ve pretended to not understand what I was asking. Feign ignorance. Run some bullshit excuse on me. But he didn’t.
“You know why,” he said, hanging up before I have a chance to say anything else.
Yeah. I knew why.
Now, it’s five months later, and he’s blowing up my phone at three o’clock in the morning.
“Who is it?”
I shoot the mass of dark hair and spray-tanned limbs in bed next to me a quick look. “My brother,” I say, which isn’t a lie really. Ryan is my brother, in all the ways that count. “What’s up?” I say into the phone, passing a rough hand over my face. I need to get out of here.
“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Ryan says, his voice faint and tinny. Makes me wonder where he is.
“Nah, It’s all good—what’s up?” I say, clenching my teeth while the woman next to me, turns over and scoots closer, wrapping her arm around my waist. I look down at her dark head tucked into my shoulder and sigh. Reaching down, I lift her arm and slide out from under it before letting it flop back onto the bed.
“Hen just called me,” he says. “Says she’s finally making it to Boston. Just wondering if you’re still available to go with her to see the old man.”
“Yeah,” I say, tucking the phone against my shoulder. “Whatever you need.” I reach down, immediately finding my pants. I know exactly where I left everything, right down to my socks. Makes for a quicker getaway.
“I gave her your number. Hope you don’t mind.”
