Teagan slowly pushes the door open, revealing a single room covered in dust, twigs, dried leaves, and broken glass. There’s a rickety table in the center, and a small hearth on the opposite wall. I hesitantly step over the threshold, casting a wary eye around the space. I’m expecting a jump scare, because that’s what my brothers would do. It’s not until I squint my eyes that I see what he’s wanting to show me.
The wall to my left is covered in chalk drawings and lines of handwriting. I approach slowly, being careful not to step on the broken shards of glass. Teagan is strong, but if I cut my foot, there’s no way he’s going to be able to carry me all the way back to his parents’ house.
Crouching down, I peer at the first drawing. It’s a stick figure, carrying a pole over its shoulder with a bundle tied to the end. In crooked lettering under it, it reads:Step one: leave the farm.Following the arrow drawn after, the next drawing is the same stick figure on a boat with a large sail.Step two: go somewhere newis scrawled below that. The last stick figure is surroundedby other stick figures, all with big smiles drawn on.Step three: be happy.Off to the side of that is a list.
What Will Make Me Happy?
-No sheep EVER again.
-My own dog.
-Help people.
-Play football.
-Kiss a pretty girl.
-Eat biscuits at every meal.
Tears have gathered in my eyes, but I laugh at the last two. It breaks my heart to think of a young Teagan feeling so miserable in his own home that all he wanted was to run away. Footsteps crunch behind me.
“I know I had a decent life,” Teagan says softly. “I was always fed and cared for, had all the things a lad could want. My Ma was loving and gentle, but she never stood up for us, or herself, where Da was concerned. She always sided with him. He wasn’t abusive. We’d get our hides tanned when needed, but he never raised a hand to us otherwise. But I never really felt like I had a father, just an employer. I can’t remember a single time that he played with us. He never kicked a ball around with me, pushed Tommy on a swing. He was gentle with Tarrah, but never affectionate. Probably why she’s marrying that arsehole.”
I stand, pivoting to face him. His hat is pulled down low over his eyes, and his hands are tucked into his pockets again. I don’t say anything, just listening as he continues.
“Anyway, this is where I’d come on the bad days. Sometimes Tommy would join me, but he spent most of the time attached to Ma’s legs. The day I drew that,” he nods toward the wall, “Da had been giving me hell for not doing something properly with the sheep. He was constantly on my arse about something, but never more so than with those fecking sheep. I could have been perfect in every other aspect, but one mistake in the fields or barn made me a disappointment.”
“Teagan,” I whisper, reaching out to cup his face with both hands, and forcing him to meet my gaze. The light in his eyes has dimmed and it gutsme. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and inhales a shuddering breath. I’ve never seen him cry, and I don’t want to start now. Not because he shouldn’t show emotion—if there’s anything he does well, it’s share his feelings—but because the idea of someone hurting him so badly that he feels broken leaves me heartbroken and filled with rage. I want to go to battle for him. He’s said how he will always be there to block shots taken at me, but who guards him?
In soccer, each position is essential. They all benefit the other. Teagan is a goalie, the last line of defense before the ball hits the net. Before the opposing team even reaches the goalie however, they go through the defender. It’s the defender’s job to the keep the ball from even getting to the goalie.
Right now, I’m Teagan’s defender, and the last thing that I will allow to happen is for one more shot to be fired in his direction.
“We don’t have to stay here,” I say softly.
“Yeah, let’s get back to the house.” He starts to pull away, but I hold him firmly.
“No, babe. I don’t meanhere.” I pin him with my eyes. “I mean with your family. You didn’t come all the way to Ireland just so your dad could make you feel like shit and put you to work. We’re here for our friends’ wedding. We can spend some time with your mom and then head to Kilkenny. Spend it with people that you know love you.”
He gives me a pained expression. “Then I’ll feel guilty.”
“I know.” Stepping closer, I slide my hands from his face, winding them around his neck. “I get it, but that’s on them. Not you. If your dad can’t even give you a proper greeting without immediately trying to get you to fill some role he thinks you belong in, then you aren’t obligated to stay.”
* * *
The moment we return from our walk, Teagan’s dad immediately requests his help. I don’t get a chance to object before he agrees, kissing my temple before following his father outside. He looks so defeated,like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs.
That’s enough. I won’t stand for this version of the other half of my heart.
While the men do whatever they need to do with the sheep, I offer to help Siobhán and Tarrah with dinner preparations, with the single goal of telling them we won’t be staying with them. And I won’t be subtle about why.
“I hope you don’t mind bunking with Tarrah tonight,” Teagan’s mother says warmly as she stirs something on the stove. “With Gerard staying as well, I’m afraid the guest room is already spoken for. I don’t know how things are done where you’re from, but unmarried couples don’t share a bed in our house. I’m sure you understand.”
Gerard. That’s Dickhead’s name!
I want to roll my eyes so hard, but instead, I paste a regretful smile on my face. “Of course. My family is the same way. However, Teagan and I won’t be staying the night. So there’s no need to make any extra fuss.”
