Thorrn

Chapter 1

1

JennyMy ex left me with a suitcase full of cut-up clothes, a key-scratched car and a broken arm. Good riddance.

I didn’t realise he’d destroyed all my clothes until I sat in my brother’s spare room. He’d taken one look at me, given me the biggest hug ever and told me I could stay for as long as I needed. My brother was the best.

That bastard Jason had done a great job. I only found a single top he hadn’t torn to pieces. At least I’d never agreed to give up my own bank account. We’d had a shared one to pay for the rent, food and bills, but my savings were safe, ready to be drawn on until I was back on my feet.

“Dinner’s ready!” Ewan shouted from downstairs. My stomach growled in response. My last meal had been yesterday evening, before the row that had ended in a trip to A&E. They hadn’t let me eat in hospital just in case I needed an operation, but luckily the break was clean and needed only a cast. When I’d arrived back home in a taxi, I’d found a suitcase next to my Mini. SLUT was sprayed on both driver doors. Jason was nothing if not petty. I’d make sure to tell the police all about it when I went to give my statement tomorrow. If he wanted war, he could have it.

I slowly walked down the carpeted stairs, wincing at the pain in my thigh. I couldn’t quite remember how I’d sustained the giant bruise. Maybe I’d bumped against the kitchen counter during the row. Not that it mattered. I gritted my teeth and ignored the pain.

The sight of a ginormous lasagne made me smile. Ewan always knew how to cheer me up. He was a cook by trade, making fancy food at one of the city’s most exclusive restaurants, but when I visited, he always provided me with simple comfort food. As a bonus, I’d be able to eat the lasagne with just a fork, one-handed as I currently was.

“Smells delicious. Is Anna joining us?”

“No, she’s working the night shift and won’t be home until four. It’s just us, little sis.”

He grinned as he cut the lasagne in half. It would have been enough to feed a family of six, but I knew that the glass dish would be empty by the time we were done with it. He put a plate in front of me, so full that a trickle of cheese was slowly oozing onto the table. I picked it up and pulled a beautiful string of cheese, ready to be slurped like spaghetti.

Ewan chuckled. “I see you still haven’t learned any table manners. Ma would be so disappointed.”

“Ma would do exactly the same and you know it.” Our mother was a hippie who’d married a simple crofter, giving us a unique upbringing far from the busy city we now lived in. Sometimes, I’d considered whether to move back to the Highlands, but there were no jobs there, at least not the kind of jobs I was interested in. One day, I might leave Glasgow for a smaller place, but for now, I was happy here. Well, except for my prick of an ex. I realised how quickly he’d changed from boyfriend to ex-boyfriend in my mind. I supposed it had been inevitable. All I’d needed was the right reason to leave. And a broken arm qualified for that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ewan asked after a few minutes of companionable silence.

“Not really. I’ll have to tell the police tomorrow; I think that’s enough.”

“Well, you know I’m here whenever you want to talk. Day or night. And you can stay for as long as you need to. The room’s been empty ever since Anna’s mum moved to that assisted living place, so we have space. And I like cooking for you.”

I laughed. “You’d think you’d never get to cook in your life.”

“It’s different making food for the people you love.”

“I suppose so.”

I’d never been as obsessed with food as my brother. I liked eating it, sure, but I was happy to let other people do the actual cooking. Jason hadn’t been half-bad at it, but he’d always made sure to let me know what a failure I was at homemaking. It didn’t matter that I earned more than him. In fact, it may have made things worse.

“How’s the job?” Ewan asked. “Any interesting new projects?”

“Yes, actually. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow with the owner of a dating agency. Hot Tatties. They want a big marketing campaign to find more people to sign up. Apparently, my pitch really impressed them and they didn’t blink an eye at the price of my premium package. I’ll probably be working with them for a couple of months at least.”

“A dating agency. Guess that’ll help if you want to get over that bawbag quickly.”

I shot him a look. “No, thanks. I’ve learned my lesson. I have the worst possible taste in men and I shall stay single for the rest of my days.”

Ewan snorted. “Are you saying you’re becoming a nun?”

“I never said I’d stay celibate.”

He covered his ears. “I don’t want to think about my little sister and s*x. Ewww. Disgusting.”

"You should know by now how s*x works. Remember when I found those magazines under your bed?"

His cheeks reddened until they almost matched the colour of his hair, the same ginger hair I was cursed with, except that his was a lot shorter and less curly. "Stop it or I'll evict you."

Despite his jovial tone, I couldn't help but flinch. It was still all too raw and fresh.

“Sorry,” he said immediately. “Not cool of me. I won’t throw you out, ever. And you know how much Anna loves you. I’m pretty sure that if she hadn’t married me, she would have taken you instead.”

I laughed. “I discovered that I’m not into women, sorry.”

“Discovered? How?”

“Didn’t you experiment while at uni?”

He blushed even more. “Not really. Those were different times.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re seven years older than me. Not enough to pretend that you’re a different generation. So you never had a drunken thing with a guy?”

“Bloody no to the no. And if I did, I don’t remember. In fact, I don’t remember a lot of my uni days. I spent a lot of them hungover.”

“And here I thought that you studied hard like ma always told me when she presented you as the ultimate role model. Maybe I should tell her…”

“Don’t you dare. If you do, I’m afraid I might have to expose one of your secrets. But which one to choose? There are so many.”

I flicked a piece of melted cheese at him while at the same time wondering what secrets he had about me. Not that I was a very mysterious person. I wore my heart on my sleeve most of the time, and I’d learned that playing poker was a quick way of losing money. I sucked at poker faces and keeping a hold on my emotions. At least that kept me honest. The only person I could successfully lie to had been Jason and that was mostly because he didn’t pay much attention to me. When had I last had a proper conversation with him that didn’t turn into a row? I couldn’t say.

“You’re thinking about him,” Ewan said, proving my point. I couldn’t hide anything from my brother. “He’s not worth it. How about we open that bottle of Highland Park my boss gave me?”

“Your boss gives you whisky?”

“When I make her half a million quid with a deal, then yes, she does.” He grinned proudly. “She let slip that I might get a promotion at the end of the year. We can use the money for decorating the nursery.”

I gasped. “Nursery? Is Anna-“

“Not yet, but we’re doing our best. Every day.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m glad your bedroom isn’t right next to mine. I don’t need to hear my brother making babies.”

“With Anna’s current shift pattern, you don’t have to worry about that. You’ll be at work by the time she wakes up. I’ve been doing a lot of working from home recently.” Ewan laughed. “I’m a lot more productive after a good shag.”

He pulled a large bottle from the liqueur shelf. Our father was a big whisky fan and we’d grown up being dragged to distilleries across Scotland. After he’d seen them all, we’d started having family holidays over in Ireland. Right now, he was saving for a trip to Japan to visit some distillery he’d read about.

I swirled the golden liquid in my glass, resisting the temptation to go through the traditional steps of tasting whisky. My father had turned me into a connoisseur I didn’t want to be. When I’d left for university, he hadn’t warned me of staying away from horny boys and stuff like that. No, he’d warned me of the sin of mixing whisky with coke. I chuckled at the memory. Maybe I should take a few days off and visit my parents. A breakup was the perfect excuse. I didn’t want to admit to them that I missed their company, hugs and even their advice. I was a grown woman, after all.

By the time Ewan refilled my glass for the fourth time, I’d almost forgotten about my broken arm, my bruises and the fact that I was currently homeless. I was happier than I’d been in months.

“You should go to bed,” my brother said when I reached for the bottle again. His voice was slightly slurred. “You don’t want to be hungover during your interview tomorrow.” He looked at the clock above the kitchen door. “Today, actually. Time’s moving so bloody fast when you’re having fun.”

“You’re way too sensible,” I complained.

“It’s my responsibility as your big brother. Go on, bedtime. I need to grab a few hours of sleep too. I don’t want to disappoint Anna tomorrow. That baby won’t make itself.”

I laughed harder than that joke was worth. Then cringed. Then wondered if I’d ever have a relationship as steady and loving as Ewan.

Probably not.