Faint strains of a hymn carried out on the wind from the funeral service still progressing inside the church.
Callum took a step closer. “Do you even know what that did to him, you running off like that? Do you have a clue at all?”
Jack’s heart hammered in his chest and he opened his mouth to speak, but Callum wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. Callum took another step towards him and grabbed the collar of his jacket. Backing him up against the nearest tree, Callum drew his fist back.
“Don’t! Please!”
Callum’s jaw tensed. Even though he was glaring daggers at Jack, it was Ally he was talking to. “I’m sorry, I know this wasn’t what you wanted, but it’s what he deserves.”
His fist hovered in mid-air, trembling with anticipation. His grip on Jack’s shirt tightened, leaving him with nowhere to go.
“You walked out on all of us that day, not just her,” he said, to Jack this time. “You don’t get a second chance after something like that.”
Jack’s heart hammered in his chest, the bark from the tree digging into his back.
“Don’t do this – not now, not like this,” Jane begged, walking over to them. “You promised.”
Callum turned to her and Jack felt his grip on his shirt loosen. He held his breath. Slowly, Callum released his shirt altogether and took a step back. Jack straightened out his jacket and shirt and stole a quick glance at Ally. She stared back at him in silent desperation, Maggie’s arm around her shoulders.
Jane had managed to position her body between himself and Callum, forming a physical barrier. She snaked her arm around Callum’s waist and tried to draw him away, but he stood his ground.
Jack shook his head. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
The weight of their collective gaze fell upon him. Ally had tears rolling freely down her cheeks, which only added to the ache in his heart. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I –”
Callum shoved Jane aside and threw a punch that knocked Jack back into the trunk of the tree so fast, he never even saw it coming. There was a roaring in his ears as he slid to the ground. Before he could get to his feet, Callum threw another punch, his fist connecting with Jack’s cheek and jarring his entire body. He barely had enough time to register what was happening before he was hit a third time, making his head almost literally spin. Callum reached down to grab his shirt front and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet.
“You selfish bastard!” he yelled, only inches from his face. “Not one damn word from you in four years and now you ask if she’s okay?”
Jack shook his head to clear it of the ringing in his ears. His vision swam, and he had a flashback to one night a lifetime ago, and the power behind Callum’s right hook.
His head was on fire. Acting entirely from instinct, he threw a desperate punch that caught Callum off guard and sent him reeling backwards, staggering to stay on his feet. Seizing his chance, Jack flew after him, tackling him around the waist as they both hit the ground, scrambling to get a decent grip on each other. Frustration and anger boiled over, finesse giving way to raw emotion. Voices in the background became white noise as he fought to gain the upper hand. Guilt was pushed aside, superseded by the desperate need to survive.
This wasn’t like any fight he had ever been in before. Yet despite the fact that he felt he deserved it, his survival instinct was too strong to be suppressed.
Out of nowhere, rough hands on his shoulders forced him bodily upwards. He scrambled to maintain his equilibrium, panting heavily. Callum was facing him, restrained by men he didn’t recognise. The noise was deafening but he couldn’t distinguish the ringing in his ears from the multitude of voices that surrounded them. Callum spat fresh blood out of the corner of his mouth.
“Get the hell out of here,” he panted, glaring at Jack. “And this time, don’t come back.”
Jack heard every word, crystal clear.
With some difficulty, he shrugged out of the hold on him and pitched to the side, straightening up and wiping his hand across his mouth. Pain rocketed through his body. The metallic taste of blood welled up in his mouth and he spat it out, pulling feebly at his ripped shirt. He glanced down to see blood splattering the front of it, spilling over onto the torn sleeve of his jacket. He was suddenly aware of dozens of faces staring at him.
He searched out the only one that really mattered – Ally.
She stood next to Maggie and Jane, tears streaming down her face as they tried to comfort her.
I’ve just made everything worse.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, staggering away from them all.
He ignored the stares as he made his way back to his car, shrugging off the offers of help. He fell into his car and sat there, hanging onto the steering wheel as if it would save him from all of this.
I’m sorry Dad.
Choking back tears of desperation, he pulled away from the curb.
CHAPTER 5
“A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.”
- Mahatma Gandhi