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The sound of the call changed, footsteps mixed with an echoing background.
“A group is being escorted down the alley by cops,” Valentine reported.
“That’s a good thing, right?” I said.
“Think so. It’s the first movement we’ve seen. Just checking the other window.”
He went quiet for a moment. I pictured him in the dark of whatever space they were in, watchful of the hostile people outside.
“Val,” another voice said, closer to the phone.
Ben, I was relatively certain.
“What’s up?” Valentine replied, more distant.
“While we’re stuck inside, I wanted to talk. I was going to do it over dinner, but we didnae get the chance.”
“Hold up,” Valentine said, presumably intending to cut off my call.
“Kelly messaged me,” his brother replied.
Valentine ceased talking. Dead air played out.
“She asked me to get ye to call her, that’s all. I didn’t reply to her and I won’t. Just wanted to say because I know she’s been hassling ye.”
Valentine’s voice returned. “How did she get your number?”
“Not from me.” Another pause followed, then Ben huffed. “I’m telling the truth. I’m not in contact with her. She probably got it from someone in the family. I have no fucking clue.”
“Whatever. Message received,” was his response.
Ben audibly exhaled. “This isn’t the time or place, but I’m getting a sense of urgency considering everything she’s trying. Judging by your expression, you’re not interested, aye? It’s the last I’ll say on it.”
A door clicked closed, then Valentine came back on the line. “Sorry about that.”
“Who’s Kelly?” I asked.
“No one I want to talk about. Or to.”
“If she’s hassling you?—”
“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” he snapped back. “Fuck. Sorry. This is just not a good time, or topic.”
My chest ached, the hurt adding to my already overflowing emotions. It was obvious who that woman was, and why he wouldn’t discuss her with his brother. He’d been engaged, and it was to Kelly. He’d loved her, and she’d betrayed him.
He was hurting from it still.
Maybe he still loved her.
“It’s okay. We all have no-go areas. But if you ever want to talk?—”
“I won’t.”
The finality in his tone cut me off. I opened my mouth, but no more words came out.
Didn’t we all have secrets? If he and I couldn’t confide ours beyond the gossipy tea sharing of our first non-date in the pub, then what hope did we have of ever getting closer?
“I’ll leave you to handle things there,” I managed weakly instead.
