Page 37 of Three Stepbrothers Save Christmas

“They were whispering about whether they could get away before Verity was awake. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to call you, but your phone was off. Mum caught me on the landing, and I tried to speak to her, but she kept saying she wasn’t talking to me until I had showered as I was sweaty. You know what she’s like, so I rushed and had the quickest shower.” Ryan walks over to his wardrobe, pulls out some clean jeans and a fresh t-shirt, and proceeds to get changed.

“By the time I came out of my room, it was half six, and I found Verity rushing up the stairs towards her father’s room. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn’t listen; she was so excited about seeing him, nothing else mattered.” Ryan stops talking while he pulls his new dry t-shirt over his head. When he turns his attention back to me he looks like he doesn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

“Travis, the change in her when she came out of that room was unreal. She walked in there with a spring in her step and more energy than I have seen from her in months. But when she walked out behind her father, her head was down as she followed him like a well-trained lapdog. There wasn’t any sign of the Verity who went in there.” Ryan rubs his face briefly, and I see he’s fighting his anger.

“From them coming out of the room to Mum and him leaving, it must have been five minutes tops. They really couldn’t get away quick enough. I tried to speak to her to see how she was, but Henry kept her attention purely on him. Every time she looked like she was close to tears, he would whisper something to her, and she would blink them back and show that fake as fuck smile. I wanted to kill him there and then, but I also wanted to stay focused on Verity, as I knew she would need me when they finally left.”

“Do you have any idea what he was saying to her?” I ask as Ryan nods.

“He wasn’t so quiet the last time as he was near his car. He told her not to cry because no one wanted to see that. I think once I heard him say something like, “Stop with the tantrum.” Ryan looks up at me with his jaw clenched. “She couldn’t have been further from a tantrum if she tried. She should have been throwing one. I wanted to throw one for her, but she just nodded and kept her head bowed and hands clasped in front of her.”

“So, what happened when they left?”

Ryan proceeded to tell me how Verity had shut down and wouldn’t even look at him. When he tells me about pacing outside the door, I try to put his mind at ease by confirming I would have done the same thing. There was no win in that situation; Verity had every right to privacy as she cried; she probably did need the space, as any normal person would. When your heart is broken, the last thing you want is people fussing around you.

“When I heard that sound from her room, I couldn’t hold back anymore, and I went in.” Ryan sits on the edge of his bed and places his head in his hands.

“She was beyond broken, Trav. She was sitting on the shower floor, the water pouring down on her; it was so hot that the steam was hard to see. The water must have been burning her. I sat out of the initial spray and still felt the heat in the steam. She didn’t want to be held at first, but she quickly seemed to change her mind as she melted in my arms and shut herself down.” Ryan sits in silence for a moment, and I let him. As much as I want to get back to Verity and hold her, he needs a moment to compose himself, and I need to know more to help her.

When Ryan looks up at me, there is no hiding his pain.

“I was so busy holding her that I missed the signs of the cutting. I failed her so badly. I should have noticed something.” He places his head back in his hands, and a moan leaves him.

I walk over and place a hand on his shoulder as they shake. I’ve only ever seen him like this once before; he’s struggling with the anger he feels not only for Verity’s father and our own Mother. But he’s also struggling with the anger he feels at missing how much she was hurting. He’s blaming himself for her pain.

“You didn’t fail her. You were there and occupied by ensuring she knew she wasn’t alone. You were doing the right thing,” I point out, hoping to reassure him.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” he replies before looking back at me. “I didn’t notice anything was amiss until I heard the blade hit the tile floor. I thought she had been about to kill herself, Trav. I thought she had been pushed to the point of no return. It never even dawned on me that she was self-harming, not until she told me and I saw the blood on her hip.”

She knew what she was doing. She’s a dancer; her legs and arms are on display for people to see all the time. But her hips are usually covered by her leotard or skirt. No one would know unless they were looking for signs.

“How bad was it?” I ask.

“Not as bad as it could have been. That’s when I carried her out of the shower and checked her over. It wasn’t the first time. Once I knew what to look for, I saw all the tiny little scars. They are all small cuts, easy to miss. She has cut open a few more than once, so they stand out slightly more than the others, but not enough to catch your attention.” Ryan runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “I asked her how long it had been going on, but that was when she shut down. She hasn’t spoken since in the shower and won’t respond to touch. She let me get her dried and changed, but as soon as she was on that bed, she turned away from me and hasn’t moved, spoken or anything. It’s like she has entered a state of shock.”

“That’s exactly what she’s done. It’s all become too much, and she’s shut down to protect herself.” I rub my face and try to work out what to do next. I know what I want to do, but I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do or not. I need advice, and the only person I can think to give it to me is the one person I swore I would never look to again.

“Compose yourself, then go back into the room and sit with her and Ethan. I need to make a call.” I turn around and walk out of the room, pulling my phone out of my pocket, praying I haven’t deleted their number. When I find it in my contacts, I let out a sigh of relief.

Walking into my room and closing the door for some privacy, I realise this may be the hardest call I’ve ever had to make.

I stare at the screen for a few seconds, reminding myself I’m doing this for her before connecting the call. He answers in three rings.

“O’Reilly.”

“It’s me.” From the harsh laugh I hear, the smug bastard knows who I am.

“What have I done to deserve the displeasure of you calling?”

“I need your help,” I answer as I start pacing around the room as Christian laughs again.

“Give me one reason why I should help you?”

“Because I’m trying to save Verity.”

Christian instantly stops laughing and is silent for a moment.

“What’s happened?” his tone’s changed, and I know deep down I made the right decision calling him. I quickly fill him in, leaving out the self-harming as I know she wouldn’t want Jasmine to know, and I don’t particularly trust him enough to tell him anyway. When I finish, there is a silence before he speaks.

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