Once we were in, I smiled reassuringly at the kids as I sat in the middle between them and their drunken uncle.
Lewis eyed Arran warily. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, sweetie,” Regan said, reassuring him. “Uncle Arran is just tired. He’s had a long day.”
Eilidh thankfully accepted this, yawned, and then rested her head against her brother. I melted as Lewis lifted his arm and let her snuggle into him, embracing her. They fought like cats and dogs sometimes, but there was no denying Lewis Adair adored his little sister.
Regan caught my expression in the rearview mirror and gave me a soft smile.
I returned it and then looked at Arran, whose head now rested against the window. It shocked me how desperately I wanted to know what was going on inside that mind of his, how much I wanted to soothe him.
* * *
“I want to stay,” I insisted. Thane stood at the end of Arran’s bed in the guest house. He’d helped Arran out of his clothing while I fixed some food, water, and aspirin in the kitchen in the main house. I’d returned to find Arran awake and throwing up in the bathroom.
“Are you sure?” Thane frowned.
“Yes. Go be with Regan and the kids. I’ll look after him.”
He still looked a little unsure, but at my unwavering stare, he finally nodded. “Just give me a shout if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Good night, Arran,” Thane called to his brother.
Arran groaned in response from the bathroom.
“That’s going to be one hell of a hangover.” Thane patted me on the shoulder and exited, closing the annex door behind him.
“Is he gone?” Arran croaked.
“Yeah. Do you need help?”
The bathroom door opened, and Arran stepped out wearing only pajama bottoms, his face pasty and pale as he crawled onto the bed. “Just let me die.”
Trying not to chuckle, I lifted the water and aspirin off the bedside table. “Here.”
Arran reluctantly sat up to take the medicine but tried to shoo away the toast I’d prepared.
“Please,” I insisted. “It’ll make you feel better in the long run.”
With another guttural sound, Arran leaned back against the headboard and raised a piece of toast to his mouth with a heavy arm.
I pulled a chair over from the mini dining area and watched him. He finally looked at me.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
To my shock, his eyes turned glassy. “Just a shit night.”
“Why?” I leaned over and pressed a hand to his arm. “Talk to me.”
Something passed over his expression, something so sorrowful and grim, my pulse raced.
“I suppose if anyone should know who I really am, it’s you,” he muttered, before squeezing his eyes closed. “Fucking room won’t stop spinning.”
“Drink more water.”
He took another gulp, and I went to the kitchen to refill his glass.
When I returned, he took the water from me but wrapped his fingers around mine to stop me from retreating. “I caused a friend’s death, Ery. Four years ago tonight.”
My heart plummeted at his confession.
11
ARRAN
Krabi Province, Thailand
Four Years Ago
“I think I’m going to ask Maranda to marry me.” Colin grinned at me drunkenly as he staggered down the empty beach. The water lapped gently at the shore, the moonlight shimmering across the tranquil sea. It beckoned to my hot skin.
“Is that why you’re blootered?” I mocked, swaying as I changed direction toward the shore.
Colin glanced over his shoulder and then spun around to follow. “I’m not drunk!”
I snorted. “If you say so.”
“So, what do you think?”
“About?”
“Me marrying Maranda?”
I thought Maranda was a complicated lady. Adventurous and laid-back in some respects, but possessive and cloying with Colin. Our Thai friend Kasem owned a beach bar here, and we worked for him, even though it was illegal for foreigners to perform manual labor in Thailand. Colin was originally from York and a bit of a wanderer like me. We’d met in Bangkok two years ago and traveled to Krabi together when Kasem, whom I’d met in Germany many moons before, contacted me about he owned a bar now and could use some part-time help. It turned into full time as we fell in love with the lifestyle. If anyone asked, Colin and I owned shares in Kasem’s bar, and that was why we were allowed to work there. We knew one day, our luck might run out, but it would be fun until then.
If Colin didn’t marry Maranda first.
I couldn’t imagine the woman who would make me want to settle down for good, but part of me hoped she existed somewhere.
But not a possessive lass like Maranda.
She’d arrived in Thailand from Dublin a year ago on a marine biology course, and she and Colin hit it off.
To each their own, I suppose. “If you love her, marry her,” I answered simply.
“Yeah, yeah, that’sh what I thinks,” he slurred.
“You’re definitely more pissed than me. How much did you drink?”