Chapter Forty Three

"Why are we going to the club, Mummy?" Phoenix asked inquisitively, holding Mitzeee's hand firmly in his own.

"To check my shifts for the week, sweetheart," Mitzeee told him, tottering dangerously up the stairs on her heels.

"Are we seeing Ste and Brendan later?"

Mitzeee reached the bar, her eyes immediately resting on Sam who was sitting on the sofa, sipping what appeared to be a whiskey.

"Maybe," She answered vaguely, feeling intensely uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Sam glanced up at the sound of her voice, grinning briefly at her like he always did until he seemed to remember something troubling and his smile changed to a frown.

"How can I help you?" He asked, voice stiff. He put his drink down carefully.

"I just wanted to check the rota," Mitzeee replied, squaring her shoulders to compensate for the waver in her voice.

"It's in the office," Sam said, standing up and walking towards the bar, his back turned to her.

"Won't be a minute," She said, giving Phoenix a quick tug on his hand. He stayed still, looking at Sam curiously.

"Sam?" He asked, eyes bright and curious.

Sam managed a smile, bending down to Phoenix's level. "Everything okay?"

"Are you?" Phoenix asked, one of his little hands reaching out tentatively.

"Course, don't you worry about me." Sam's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You look sad," Phoenix said, matter of fact. "Where's Ste?"

Sam smiled sadly. "With Brendan of course."

Mitzeee put a hand on the top of Phoenix's head. "Why don't you get your colouring pencils from the office?"

Phoenix glanced up at her, completely oblivious. "Okay," He said, bounding in the appropriate direction.

"Sam," Mitzeee began the moment he was out of earshot. "Is everything alright? Any news on Terry?"

"Not yet," Sam replied grimly, sitting heavily on one of the bar stools.

"Why did he have to come back?" Mitzeee muttered to herself, flicking her hair behind her absently.

"Who knows," Sam replied darkly, not looking at her.

Mitzeee paused then, sensing a hostility directed elsewhere. "Have you got something to say to me, Sam?"

Sam looked at her, gaze unreadable. "Does it matter what I have to say?"

"Of course it does," Mitzeee said carefully. "What is it?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam blurted as though unable to hold it back any longer.

"About Brendan and Ste?" Mitzeee asked, confused.

"Who else?" Sam turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"They asked me not to."

"Is that it?"

"What do you expect from me?" Mitzeee rounded on him, growing angry now. Sam's eyes snapped to hers challengingly.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. But when we were alone in your flat I thought-"

"You thought what? That I'd betray my two best friends? Brendan of all people?"

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Why Brendan especially?"

"Do you have any idea what we've been through together? Confided in each other?"

"Careful, Anne. Someone might think you have a crush," Sam said bitingly.

Mitzeee's face heated, her hand tingling with the need to slap him. "You don't have a clue, do you?"

"No one tells me anything, so no. My own son, Mitzeee! He got married and he didn't even have the courtesy to tell me. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"You think that fazes them? They're Brendan and Ste." Mitzeee snorted. "They're in their own little world, no one else even comes close. That's how it's always been."

"When Brendan was inside, it was just me and him," Sam said bitterly, bowing his head.

"Even if Brendan left for good, he'd always be a part of Ste. That's just who they are."

"And I'm supposed to just accept that?"

"Yes! What else can you do?"

"I need more than that. I spent so long trying to find him, I can't just give him up now."

Mitzeee sat down beside him, voice softening with her next words. "You don't have to give him up. Plenty of people have tried to pry those two apart, believe me, but it's pointless."

"Then what should I do?" Sam looked to her imploringly, like she held all the answers.

"Get rid of the attitude, for a start." She smiled wryly, eventually drawing one out of him in return.

"I'm sorry."

"Forget it." She waved her hand dismissively.

"I shouldn't take it out on you. It's just… difficult."

"I get it, I really do. Just remember that besides wanting Brendan, Ste also wants a father. It's all he's ever wanted really." Mitzeee's thoughts turned to her own father then but she pushed them aside, feeling that familiar twist in her heart.

"You reckon?"

"Trust me," Mitzeee said, leaning in conspiratorially.

"I do," Sam said throatily, moving closer towards her. "That's why I was so hurt, before."

Mitzeee swallowed, feeling her chest flutter at their close proximity. "I-"

"Mummy!" Phoenix came tottering out. "My red pencil snapped." His eyes filled with tears, lower lip wobbling.

"Oh it doesn't matter," Mitzeee said consolingly, dropping down to his level. "Use another colour."

"I'm not done." Phoenix held up his picture, half-coloured in red.

Mitzeee gave him a stern look. "You know what I'm going to say…"

Phoenix sighed. "Okay. I can use purple."

"That's my boy." Mitzeee smiled, glancing up to see Sam looking at them with something like fondness and a hint of sadness. "What is it?"

"If Phoenix can compromise, I suppose I can too."

Mitzeee nodded, her lips curving into a smile. "Glad we could help."

Xxx

Brendan immediately closed the distance between them, shielding Steven from Terry's sight. He needn't have bothered; Terry had passed out again, head lolling pathetically to the side.

"Is he…?" Steven whispered from behind him, crawling on his hands and knees towards his stepfather. Brendan held out a hand, stopping him.

"Let me."

Steven gave him an odd look, swallowing thickly as though swallowing his reply.

Brendan placed two fingers against Terry's pulse. "He's alive," He announced, unsure of whether to be pleased or unhappy with that conclusion.

Steven let out a long breath, falling back onto his hands. "I didn't kill him."

"No." Brendan agreed, checking the back of Terry's head carefully. "No glass, ye must have hit him with the wooden part of the frame."

"He'll be okay then?"

"I've seen worse." Brendan shrugged. "Are you okay though?"

Steven nodded, not looking at him. "When he wakes up, he'll remember it was me that hit him."

"What are ye saying?"

"What if he goes to the police?"

"Then I'll tell them I hit him," Brendan said automatically.

Steven's gaze snapped to his, burning and angry. "No, you won't."

"Steven-"

"Fuck off, Brendan."

He couldn't argue with that. Instead, he began to think. Would Terry really go to the police with his record? Brendan wasn't so sure. When you'd been inside for any length of time the last thing you wanted to do was put your trust in the police. No, for Terry there would only be revenge in mind, personal revenge.

"Steven, we need to think about this."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Steven's hands were in his hair, tugging on it enough that it began to stand at odd angles.

"Looks like you're trying to bring about premature baldness."

Steven glared at him. "Is now really the time for jokes, Bren?"

"Point." Brendan chewed at his fingernail, thinking hard. "This can only end in two ways."

"What?"

"We wait until he wakes up and send him on his way or…"

"Or…?"

"We send him on his way," Brendan said pointedly, hoping that Steven caught the hint.

Steven's eyes widened in understanding. "You mean…?"

"Yeah," Brendan said gruffly.

Steven blinked, looking as shocked as if he didn't already know what Brendan was capable of.

"We'd never get away with it."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I don't know," Steven said doubtfully. Brendan wasn't sure if he was up to this. But then Joel hadn't been either. It was always Brendan who picked up the pieces afterwards. That was what he was for, after all. This felt different though; Steven wasn't Joel, and Brendan was terrified at how far he'd go to protect him.

"Ye don't have to be here for this," Brendan said eventually. "I can take care of it."

Steven's indecision changed to one of annoyance once more. "Don't be stupid, I'm not leaving you."

"Steven, ye don't get it-"

"No, you don't get it." Steven shot back, clearly rattled. "You think I'm just gonna let you deal with this by yourself? No chance."

"What if I said please?" Brendan changed tactic. Stubbornly, Steven shook his head, crossing his arms for good measure.

"Fine." Brendan sighed, thinking hard. "What's yer final word on it then?"

Steven nibbled on his bottom lip and for a moment Brendan felt a conflict of feelings. On the one hand, Steven looked as alluring as ever, even in such dire circumstances. On the other hand, he also looked so young, so lost. Brendan fought the urge to wrap his arms around him.

"No more blood," He said eventually, looking up at him with an expression that sent a shiver down Brendan's spine.

"Okay." Brendan nodded, not offering any further advice. This was Steven's decision.

"What now then?"

"We wait until he wakes up." Brendan made his way over to the sofa and after a moment's beat, Steven did the same.

They sat in silence for some time, minds and bodies absent from each other. Eventually Steven relaxed his posture, leaning back and holding his hands over his face. Brendan didn't know what he was supposed to do if he couldn't comfort him. His arms hung loose and useless by his sides, desperate to soothe, to take the pain away. As if reading his mind, Steven took his hands away to look at him, expression guarded.

"Would you have really taken the fall for me?"

"What do ye think?"

Steven turned away again, hands balling into fists. "Do you expect me to be grateful?"

"I don't expect anything from ye, Steven."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steven snapped, curiosity piqued.

Brendan rubbed his forehead tiredly. "We're really gonna do this now?"

"Is it not a good time for you?" Steven asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I just meant with our guest," Brendan elaborated, giving Terry an experimental kick.

"Or you just don't wanna talk about it with me."

"I didn't say that did I?"

"Go on then."

Brendan looked at him in exasperation but Steven still wasn't looking at him, pointedly so.

"I know that I'm on thin ice here." Steven's jaw clenched but otherwise he gave no indication that he had anything to say, prompting Brendan to continue. "Remember when I told ye that there's nothing that could make me stop loving you? That's still true. You could leave me a broken shell of a man and I'd still love ye, no matter what."

"But you don't think I feel the same?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I don't expect ye to stick around if things go wrong. I hurt ye a lot, I know that. I'm trying to make it better."

"By trying to leave me again?" Steven's gaze was sharp and unflinching.

"I'd do anything to keep ye safe, ye know that."

"So it's all for my benefit? You don't think I suffered ten times worse without you around?"

"We haven't talked about it much," Brendan said uncertainly.

"I don't really want to remember it," Steven replied darkly. "I thought this was our fresh start."

"And it is, nothing's changed."

"Except he's ruined it." Steven looked at Terry with the purest hatred. "Story of my life."

"Nothing's ruined yet. He's got what he came for hasn't he? He doesn't have to bother us again."

"He might though, they always come back."

"Then let's not give them somewhere to come back to."

"You mean leave?" Steven frowned.

"That's what we wanted anyway, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Steven said uncertainly. "I mean, I saw Doug today."

Brendan snorted, feeling dislike coil around him. It was a comforting emotion, considering the uncertainty of the day so far.

"What did Douglas want, hm?" Brendan asked, not even attempting to disguise the distaste in his voice.

"Nothing like that, before you start." Steven gave him a severe look. "He offered me half of the sale of the deli."

"He's selling up?" Brendan asked in some surprise. He couldn't have predicted that one.

"He wants to travel; he's met someone," Steven said lightly. Brendan searched his face for any hint of regret or jealousy but found nothing.

"You're gonna take it?"

"You think I should?"

"It's not really up to me, Steven."

"If we get out of this mess then yeah, it would really help us."

"I've got money. Do what feels right."

"This does, I think. Time to say goodbye to that place for good."

Brendan raised his eyebrows. "I thought ye did that when ye burnt it down."

Steven smiled in spite of himself. His smile didn't linger however once Terry began to regain consciousness.

"What happened?" He asked groggily.

Brendan pushed himself off the sofa, lowering himself down to Terry's level. "So clumsy, Terrance. Knocking yerself out like that."

Terry blinked in confusion, spying Steven behind Brendan.

"It was him, he hit me."

"Ye wanna repeat that? Really?" Brendan bent down to whisper in his ear. "Prison was just a taste of what I'm capable of."

"We all know what you're capable of," Terry said in disgust.

"Then ye won't push it, will ye?"

Terry looked between the two of them, slowly pulling himself upright. "That depends on what you have to offer me for my trouble."

"You got what you came for," Steven said harshly.

"Oh yeah? And what was that?"

"Mum."

Terry's expression flashed dangerously, a hint of vulnerability showing underneath the hostility.

"I didn't get her though, did I?"

"You wanted to know why, I told you."

"It's not enough."

"It's never gonna be enough for you!" Steven raged, arms flailing madly in the air.

"Steven," Brendan interjected, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you're after money. Terrance…"

Terry's lip curled in disgust. "You think that's all I care about?"

"It worked on Pauline," Brendan said lightly, aware of Steven's sudden attention on him.

"What worked on her?"

"It doesn't matter now, Steven." Brendan bowed his head, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut.

"No, tell me!" Steven pressed himself closer, hand over Brendan's chest.

"When Douglas brought her here I paid her off to leave ye alone."

"You did what?" Steven's hand fell away, his posture defensive and hurt.

"She wasn't interested in ye, Steven. She wanted the money, I could see that a mile off. I did what I thought was best for ye."

Steven opened his mouth as if to argue but then seemed to regard Terry once more. Brendan shifted uncomfortably on his feet, prepared for the backlash once Terry was gone.

"If you don't want money, what do you want?" Steven asked him, crossing his arms haughtily.

"I want you to pay for what you did." Terry sneered, now standing unsteadily on his feet.

"I already did, I got a suspended sentence."

"That's not good enough!" Terry shouted, prompting Brendan to take a step forward, blocking Steven from sight.

"That's as good as you're gonna get, mate."

"I'm not your mate."

"Whatever. If ye don't wanna leave, I have other means of persuasion."

"Oh yeah? What's that then?"

Brendan stepped into his personal space, faces inches apart. "I'm not in prison anymore. I don't need to be on my best behaviour now. Don't push me."

"Brendan," Steven was beside him, voice low and urgent. "He's not worth it."

"You listen to your boy, Brendan," Terry said mockingly. "I can see I've wasted my time here."

"I don't know what ye were expecting," Brendan told him plainly. "But if ye ever come here again, or near Steven again, I will kill ye. That's a promise."

Terry stared into his eyes, sadistic grin still fixed in place. There were a few moments of pure silence as the men weighed each other up. Eventually Terry backed away, palms outstretched in defeat.

"I'm sure you don't need me to mess up your lives anyway, you'll do that yourselves soon enough." Terry stole a final look at Steven, smile fading to a grimace before he let himself out of the flat, door slamming firmly shut behind him.

Brendan let out a long breath, immediately turning to Steven to pull him close. Steven backed away however, looking unsure.

"What?"

"I need a bit of time, okay?"

Steven walked out of the room, Brendan following him after a moment's doubt.

"What do ye mean 'a bit of time'?"

"Can you stay with Mitzeee for a bit? I'd do it but I don't think you and dad will wanna stay on your own together," Steven's voice was dull, flat.

"Ye want me to leave?" Brendan couldn't believe what he was hearing. He watched as Steven packed a few of his clothes into a holdall.

"I just need to get my head straight, okay?" Steven barely looked at him, sitting heavily on the bed.

"Is this because of what he said? I'm not gonna mess this up, Steven. I promise ye."

"You also promised me you'd never leave me again and look how well that turned out," Steven said, looking up at Brendan with shining eyes.

"Ye know why I did that," Brendan knelt on the floor in front of him, hands resting on his thighs.

"I get it, I do. But what if he comes back, Bren? What if he tries to hurt me or something and I lash out again? You'd do exactly the same, wouldn't you? Or worse, you'd kill him and then what?"

"I'd do anything to protect ye," Brendan said fiercely. "I can't be sorry for that."

"I know." Steven smiled sadly. "I'm not saying this is it, because who am I kidding? I'm just saying I need some time."

"Time for what though? To decide if ye wanna be with me? Because I don't need that time, Steven. There's not even a choice for me." Brendan's words came out in a rush, the sentimentality alien to him out loud but necessary to make Steven see sense.

"Don't do that, don't pretend I don't love you as much as you love me."

Brendan moved his hands to cradle Steven's face, bringing their foreheads together.

"Please," He said simply, feeling his chest tighten and twist painfully at the thought of not always having Steven by his side or in his arms where he could keep him safe.

"It's not goodbye," Steven said, voice breaking on the last word. "But if you went away again I don't think I could bear it."

"Then don't send me away," Brendan said, brushing his lips tentatively over Steven's as if pulled by a magnetic force.

"Don't," Steven pleaded and Brendan immediately retreated, sitting back heavily on his heels.

"I'll give ye a night, that's as much as I can stomach."

Steven nodded, wiping the tears away on the back of his sleeve.

"Can you go now please?" He asked, staring fixedly at his hands twined together in his lap.

Brendan stood up, taking the holdall in one hand, pausing in the doorway.

"The offer still stands, Steven. We can get away from here, from all the bad memories and ghosts. I'll be waiting outside in the car tomorrow night, if ye decide it's what ye want. I won't push ye, alright?"

Steven nodded, looking small and helpless as he sat there on the bed. Brendan hated to see him that way; it wasn't who Steven was anymore. His boy was tough, resilient. A part of him wondered if he'd led him to this state and whether it wouldn't be better to drive off and leave Steven to live his life without him.

The selfish part of him knew that to be impossible though and the stubborn side of Steven would never allow it. No, it had to be Steven's choice. If he turned up tomorrow then that was it. Brendan was putting all of his cards on the table, like Steven had done so many times for him over the years. Brendan only hoped that this time he wouldn't let him down.