Echoes of the Heart - Casey, L.A. (digital ebook reader .TXT) 📗

treated you last night was horrible. I was wrong and I’m so sorry. I’d take it back in a second if I could, Cherry.”

The door was yanked open and I stumbled back a step in surprise.

“Don’t call me Cherry,” she snapped at me, pushing her curly auburn hair from her face. “You don’t get to call me that when you hurt me like you did last night. What you did was horrible! Sorry isn’t good enough, Risk!” She glared. “You hurt me and you did it on purpose so don’t you dare act like—”

“Frankie, what the fuck happened to your face?”

CHAPTER NINE

FRANKIE

“Frankie?”

I looked up when Michael said my name. He was sitting right across from me on the other side of Mum’s hospital bed, but when he spoke it sounded like he was a great distance away. I didn’t think I had heard a word the man had said since I stopped by after my shift at work ended two hours ago.

“Huh?”

“Kid,” he smiled. “You’re miles away today.”

He didn’t know the half of it.

“Sorry,” I said, shifting in my seat as I felt a little stiff. “I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night.”

As soon as I clocked out of work after my run-in with Risk, I drove home, had a shower then I cried for most of the night. I kept replaying over and over in my mind how Risk looked at me like I was nothing and spoke to me like I was a random person on the street. How dismissive and cruel he was hurt me more than I ever could have imagined. Of all the times I imagined meeting him again, him being a mean-hearted person was never ever a consideration. I had never known him to have a cruel side, because of who he was raised by, but I guess he had forgotten about his upbringing over the years.

“Are ye okay?” Michael asked. “Wanna talk about it?”

I exhaled a breath. “Well, it’s just . . . Risk is home.”

“Is he?” Michael’s jaw dropped. “I had no clue.”

“He and the lads came home to attend the retirement ceremony for Mr Jones.” I explained, crossing my leg over my lap. “He stopped in at the diner for dinner last night and he was just . . . he said some things that just hurt my feelings. He’s . . . he’s different than the person I remember and I guess I’m just having a hard time with that.”

Michael’s frown deepened. “What’d he say to ye?”

“Nothing major,” I lied. “Just spoke down to me a little.”

I didn’t want to tell Michael the truth because since the night Risk and I broke up, he had been there for me through thick and thin. He and I had formed a strong bond and he was very protective of me. If he knew how Risk had treated me, Michael would probably go looking for him. He wasn’t a violent man, but I knew there was nothing Michael wouldn’t do for my mum and I so I kept the details to myself.

“Well,” Michael adjusted his glasses. “Maybe being in America for too long has swelled his ugly noggin’.”

Everyone blessed with eyesight knew Risk wasn’t ugly, far from it, but Michael’s jab at his looks to show he was very much on my side amused me.

I tittered. “Maybe you’re right.”

“If he comes ’round again, tell him to feck off. We don’t need the likes of that in Southwold.”

“Already ticked that box.” I bobbed my head. “I doubt he’d come back around, I told him exactly what I thought of him. I got the last word in too before I stormed off so I’m happy I didn’t just take it lying down.”

“I’m surprised that he would treat you of all people like that.”

No one was more surprised than me.

“People change.” I shrugged. “Nine years is a long time.”

Michael nodded in agreement. We both looked to Mum as she began to stir from her evening nap. Both Michael and I helped her to sit upright. She began coughing violently so I grabbed her handkerchief and placed it in her hand so she could press it to her mouth. Her breathing sounded horrible even when she calmed down and stopped coughing. I knew from speaking to Michael that her lungs weren’t improving and her pneumonia was worsening. Like me, mum suffered from asthma, hers just wasn’t as bad as mine, but right now even her mild asthma was dangerous when paired with pneumonia.

“You’re okay, Mum.”

She rested her head back against her pillow and cleared her throat.

“Enda, when did . . . you get here?”

Stupidly, I looked over my shoulder to see if Enda was behind me, but I quickly realised that Mum was speaking to me. She was terribly confused more often than not and she always mistook me for someone else. It was a kick in the teeth each time she didn’t know who I was.

“Not long ago,” I answered. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” She waved her hand, her voice sounded husky. “How is M-Molly?”

Molly was Enda’s West Highland Terrier who died four years ago.

“She’s great,” I assured her. “She just got groomed so she’s looking all pretty.”

“Good, good,” Mum sighed.

She looked exhausted, which was upsetting because all she seemed to do was rest. Michael reached over and gently took her hand in his. Mum glanced at him and her face lit up.

“Malcom,” she beamed, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t hear . . . you come in.”

My face dropped, but Michael kept his composure when my mum called him by my father’s name.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Michael winked. “I missed ye today.”

Mum chuckled to herself. “You say that a-all of the time.”

“Because I always miss ye, gorgeous.”

Even though she was wheezing and out of breath, she was giggling like a schoolgirl and it made my heart feel a little lighter. I knew Michael, like me, had his feelings hurt whenever Mum called us by someone else’s name, but it had to be worse for Michael. Mum rarely recognised him