Fighting Redemption

  Irritated, Fin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fussing at her hair. She was trying to tame the tousled mess into some kind of updo, but it wasn’t happening.

  “Dammit,” she muttered. Why couldn’t she ever manage anything more complicated than a ponytail? She shoved the useless hairpins back in the drawer and snapped it shut angrily, leaving her hair to tumble wildly down her back.

  Sitting down on the edge of the bath, she took a deep breath and sighed. Her anger levels had been high today—anger at Ian for pressuring her, anger at the timing of her expedition, anger at Ryan for being everything she wanted and couldn’t have, and anger at herself because she couldn’t move on.

  Why did life have to be so complicated?

  “Fin!” A fist rapped smartly on the bathroom door. “Hurry up. We’re already late.”

  “You guys go on ahead,” she called out to Jake, standing up and smoothing a hand down her dress. She picked up her earrings and started putting them on. “Ian’s picking me up anyway, so I’ll just meet you there.”

  There was a pause. “Are you sure?”

  Fin felt a rush of love for Jake at hearing the concern in his voice. How did she ever get so lucky to have a brother like him? It only made the loss all the greater when he left along with Ryan.

  “Positive,” she told him and rubbed her lips together, checking her lipstick.

  “Okay, honey. See you there then.”

  The front door opened and closed and after a moment, she left the bathroom and slipped her shoes on. Her phone buzzed a message that told her Ian was five minutes away. Crookshanks head-butted her leg as she poured him out some biscuits. She gave his water bowl a quick clean and refill, and after a quick scratch behind his ear, she grabbed her bag and keys, locking the door behind her, and walked down the little paved pathway at the front of her house to wait.

  He drove down her street a minute later, his Subaru growling angrily as he down-shifted gears and pulled to the kerb.

  She slid inside the car.

  “Seatbelt,” he muttered before she even had a chance to put her bag down.

  Determined to turn her crappy day around, Fin swallowed her irritation and smiled at Ian. “You look nice,” she told him as she clicked the belt into place, because he did. The light grey pants were smart, and his pale blue shirt matched his eyes.

  “Thanks.” He gave her a quick once over before gunning the engine and accelerating down the street. “Been shopping with Rachael again? That looks new.”

  “It is and I don’t know why I bothered. It’s hardly something I’ll be able to wear in Antarctica.”

  His jaw clenched at the mention of her upcoming expedition, and she sighed audibly.

  Ian glanced across at her before checking his mirrors and changing lanes. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  He changed gears and looked at her again. “No, it’s not nothing. Why do women always say that,” he muttered irritably.

  Facing her window, Fin closed her eyes and counted to ten. “I’m just tired, Ian. That’s all,” she lied.

  They were all seated at the dining table when Fin and Ian walked in—Mike and Julie, Jake’s Uncle David and Aunt Emily, and their cousins Heath and Laura. Jake sat to Ryan’s left and Rachael across from him, next to the two empty seats for Fin and Ian.

  Ryan looked up from the outdoor table and his breath caught. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, gleaming in the soft flicker of fairy lights. The dress she wore fluttered around her tanned thighs. He imagined his hands sliding up the smooth skin beneath her skirt and repressed the shudder as he grew hard.

  A light sweat broke out on his brow as he fought to get himself under control. He picked up his beer and took a deep swallow in an effort to cool off.

  Ian walked a step behind her. His hand was curled around her hip, guiding her outside where they sat. Ryan watched it slide down until it hovered over the same sweet spot he’d grabbed earlier today. His hand clenched around his beer as he shifted his gaze from Ian’s hand to Fin. Her eyes were on him and they were pained.

  After greeting everyone at the table, Ian leaned in, saying something in her ear as he pulled her chair out for her. Looking up at him, she frowned and replied with something that had Ian clenching his fists.

  Jake, watching them too, turned back to Ryan and muttered, “I don’t know what’s going on with those two, but Ian’s really pissing me off right now.”

  Ryan cursed under his breath. He hoped it wasn’t anything to do with what happened between Fin and him this morning. He shouldn’t have touched her, but it was too late for that now. He only wanted to do it again.

  He made it through dinner, barely. He kept his focus mostly on Mike as they talked, thankful that Jake was driving as he downed beer after beer until he lost count.

  Rachael turned to Fin and said, “I think we need another round of drinks.”

  Ryan skimmed his eyes down the length of the table and arched a brow. Everyone had a full glass.

  “Ouch,” Fin mumbled after a thump came from underneath the table. She frowned at Rachael.

  Rachael narrowed her eyes in some form of silent female communication and they disappeared inside.

  “I’ll go help,” Laura said and standing up, followed them in.

  “Women’s summit,” Jake muttered.

  Ryan glanced through the window into the kitchen, seeing the three of them talking in a huddle. “What’s going on?”

  Jake picked up his beer. “I’m sure we’ll find out eventually.”

  “Oh my God, Fin,” Rachael hissed and grabbed a napkin off the bench. She started fanning herself with it. “The tension out there is thick enough to give me an eye twitch. Look,” she said, pointing at her eye. “Can you see it? It’s annoying the crap out of me.”

  “No, I can’t see it,” Fin replied, peering at Rachael’s eye. “Is the tension that obvious?” She sighed. “Ian and I fought the whole way over in the car.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Ian. I meant you and Ryan,” Rachael said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

  Laura sauntered into the kitchen, wine glass in hand, her pale blue maxi dress billowing as she walked. “What are we talking about?”

  “The tension between Fin and Ryan.”

  “Oooh, do tell.” Laura ran a hand through her shoulder length blonde hair and pinned her hazel eyes on Fin. “I remember coming to stay at your place plenty of times before we moved here from Adelaide. Ryan was always there. So was the tension.”

  Rachael pointed at Laura. “Exactly.”

  Fin looked between the two of them, folding her arms. “There’s no tension.”

  “Fin, you do know we’re not talking about hostile tension, don’t you? Ryan’s been downing beer after beer all night. I can’t wait to see if he can stand up. And the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching?” Rachael started fanning herself again. “God. I’ve been waiting for you to catch fire.”

  “Rubbish,” she snapped, flushing as she remembered this morning and the heat that filled her body when Ryan crowded her into the wall. Rachael and Laura’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “Maybe just a little tension.” Fin moaned and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Okay. Look. Let’s be real about this.”

  “Fuck real,” Rachael muttered. “Get to the details.”

  “There are no details. Jake and Ryan only arrived yesterday morning,” she pointed out.

  “And?” Laura waved her arm for her to keep going.

  “And this morning we may have had a moment.”

  “Yes!” Rachael hissed and did a fist pump, almost sloshing wine out of the glass she held in her other hand.

  “But I can assure you both that nothing happened. And as I was going to say, nothing can happen. He’s fighting a war, I’m off to Antarctica in two weeks, and in case you both happened to forget, I have Ian!”

  “Do you?” came the steely voice from behind them.

&n
bsp; Fin closed her eyes, her heart sinking. Turning around, she faced Ian standing in the entryway to the kitchen. His hands were tucked casually into his pockets, but his eyes were hard and his body was tense.

  “Rachael, Laura, can you give us a minute?” she said softly. They both looked at her, reluctant to leave. “Please.”

  Ian held her eyes as they both left the room. When the back door slid shut behind them, he folded his arms and asked, “What happened between you and Ryan?”

  “Ian. It was nothing. We—”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Fin!” he shouted.

  “Please don’t be angry,” she pleaded softly. “Nothing happened.”

  Ian stared at the floor for a moment, one hand on his hip, the other wrapped around the back of his neck. “I’ve seen how he looks at you—right from the beginning. And the worst part is that I’ve seen how you look at him. God. That first time between us, I’ve never felt more in love in all my life, but all this time it’s been him for you, hasn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Fuck sorry!” Ian yelled, his fists clenching angrily. He grabbed a glass off the kitchen counter and smashed it against the cupboards behind her. She flinched as the fragments splintered across the kitchen tiles. “Tell me you love me,” he choked out.

  Tears spilled over and ran down her face. “I love you.”

  He stood there, chest heaving. “I don’t believe you.”

  The back door flew open and Ryan came charging in. His eyes were on Ian, and they were so dark and cold, she shivered.

  Ryan looked up when Rachael and Laura walked back to their seats having left Ian and Fin alone. When Ian’s raised voice was heard, the table fell silent and all eyes went to the window.

  Ryan stood suddenly, his chair skating backwards, his body tense.

  When Ian threw a glass and it shattered against the cupboards behind Fin, red was a bright, burning haze that obliterated everything around him.

  “Fuck,” Jake muttered beside him, but Ryan was already running for the door. He slid it open, fists clenched, and stormed inside.

  Ian turned, nostrils flaring. “You.”

  But Ryan didn’t stop. He came fast at Ian and cocking back his fist, slammed it with a satisfying crack into Ian’s jaw.

  He vaguely heard someone shouting at him, but he tuned it out. Instead, he took a step forward as Ian staggered backwards. Then, head down, Ian charged, knocking Ryan off his feet. They both went down, Ryan landing hard on the small timber table beside the couch and cracking his head. The table splintered beneath him, sending him to the floor with a thud. When Ian landed above him, they rolled until Ryan had him pinned on the ground. Grabbing the neckline of Ian’s shirt, he pulled back his fist and slammed it in Ian’s face. His knuckles burned from the contact as Ian’s head snapped back. Ryan pulled his fist back, ready to do it again, but Ian reached up and grabbed him in a headlock. He grabbed at Ian’s shoulders, ready to flip him over, but arms locked around his waist and yanked him backwards.

  “Enough!” Mike yelled.

  Ryan shrugged off Mike’s hold, his chest heaving as he nailed Ian with a savage glare.

  “Fuck that,” Jake growled, and moving swiftly, grabbed Ian and hauled him to his feet, ready to throw his own punch.

  “Jake!” Mike shouted. “Both of you.”

  Ryan’s shirt had ridden up in the tussle, and he tugged it down before looking at Fin. She was standing next to Rachael, her face pale, her hand to her mouth.

  “Fin,” he murmured.

  Ian wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and pointed at Ryan. “You stay the hell away from, Fin.”

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Mike growled.

  Ian looked at Mike. “Maybe you should be asking Ryan that, Mike.”

  Mike looked between Ian and Ryan and shook his head. “Ian, I think it’s probably best for now if you left.”

  Ryan’s eyes narrowed on Ian when he looked at Fin.

  He nodded at Mike. “Okay.”

  Without sparing a glance at Fin, Ian turned and strode out the door, shutting it behind him with a soft click.

  The drive home with Jake and Ryan was silent and tense. Jake’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his lips a tight line. Fin wasn’t sure how many beers Ryan had drunk because his head was tilted back in his seat, his eyes closed as Jake drove through the dark streets.

  Fin sat in the back, staring out the window. Trying to turn her crappy day around hadn’t gone as planned. How the hell had a simple welcome home dinner spiralled into such disaster?

  After an eternity of strained silence, Jake pulled into the driveway of the cottage. Fin fumbled for the door handle in her haste to leave the car. Keys already in hand, she unlocked the front door, went straight for her room, and shut the door behind her. Once inside, she moaned a sigh of relief.

  Using the mirror on the back of her wardrobe door, she plucked out some wipes and took her make up off. Within minutes she was changed into a tank top and panties and sliding her way into bed. Her phone buzzed a message from a Rachael. What happened with you and Ian? Did you break up?

  I don’t know, she replied. He was pretty mad.

  Her phone buzzed again. No shit. He threw a glass at you, Fin. I’m glad Ryan punched him.

  Fin sighed as she tapped out a response. Is that what everyone thinks? He threw it at the cupboard, not at me.

  I think you should break up with him, came Rachael’s response.

  Should she? She always told herself she valued her independence and her work. Did she value Ian more? She wasn’t sure. Maybe if she made more of an effort this wouldn’t have happened.

  Flipping onto her stomach, Fin pushed up on her elbows and tapped out a reply. He’s not to blame. I’m the one that keeps pushing him away.

  Maybe you need to look at why, Rachael replied.

  Shaking her head, Fin put her phone back on her bedside table. Lying back down, she cuddled her pillow. Ryan had always been the first one to defend her when they were growing up. That hadn’t changed. But neither had anything else.

  Resolving to do everything in her power to move on, Fin reached for her phone again. She would ring Ian, and she would make an effort to be who he needed her to be.

  A soft knock came at her door.

  Before she could say anything, it opened slightly and Jake whispered, “It’s just me, Fin. Can I come in?”

  Ignoring the irrational disappointment that it wasn’t Ryan at her door, she mumbled, “Sure,” and put the phone back on the table.

  Fin rolled to her side as Jake climbed on her bed and stretched out on his back. He turned his head to look at her and sighed deeply. “What the fuck was that?”

  She rubbed at her brow. “Things haven’t been going so well with Ian and me lately.” Jake raised his brows. “He wants us to move in together.”

  “First of all—no fucking way. Second—how does that end up with him throwing a fucking glass at you?”

  “Ian didn’t throw it at me,” she defended him. “He threw it at the cupboard behind me.”

  “Why?”

  Fin buried her head in the pillow, shifting her face slightly so she could breathe. “He thinks there’s something going on between Ryan and me,” she mumbled.

  “Is there?” Jake frowned, his eyes searching her face in the soft darkness. “Because even if there was, that’s no excuse to throw a fucking glass at your face,” he growled.

  “No!”

  After a pause, Jake nodded and said, “I don’t like Ian. Maybe he used to be a nice guy, but I don’t like the way he treats you.”

  “You don’t have to like him,” she said, her voice muffled by the pillow. She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “I’m going to ring him in the morning and see if we can work this out. Ian and I … We have a lot of history.”

  “So do you and Ryan.”

  Fin’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean??
??

  Jake rolled to his side and sat up, putting his feet over the edge of the bed. He looked at her over his shoulder. “You two have always been friends. I thought the Army would be good for him, and it is, but he’s not letting go, Fin. Maybe you’re the one who can help him do that.” Jake stood up and moved to the door.

  “How can I possibly help him do that?”

  Jake shrugged. “You could try being friends again.”

  “But he’s the one who left!” she burst out. “Six years have gone by, Jake, and he didn’t contact me once.”

  “Did you get in touch with him either?”

  “He didn’t want me to,” she told him.

  “Sometimes it’s not about what you want, but what you need.”

  Jake opened her bedroom door and stepped out.

  “Jake—”

  “Night, honey.”

  The next morning Fin hadn’t worked out what to say to Ryan so she left for work before both he and Jake were up. She tried ringing Ian when she arrived at her desk, but he didn’t answer. Keeping her head down, she worked solidly through the day, and when she got home later that night only Jake was at home.

  She tossed her keys and files on the desk in her room and met Jake in the kitchen. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Training exercise,” he replied, stirring something on the stove.

  “Oh? I thought you both had time off.”

  “We do.”

  So Ryan and Ian were both avoiding her. Great. “You cooking me dinner?”

  Jake turned around, pointing the spoon at her. “I am, and you’re gonna like it this time or you’ll be wearing it.”

  “Just like the last time you cooked and I wore your pasta all down my favourite shirt?”

  He grinned. “You shouldn’t have complained that it tasted like shit.”

  Fin poked her tongue out. “It did taste like shit.”

  “Interesting.”

  “What is?”

  Jake smirked. “That you know what shit tastes like.”

  Fin gagged a little and he laughed. “Don’t be gross.”

  “You said it, not me.”