Chapter One

A Mhuirnín

Chapter 1

I believe in this world we meet people for a reason; should they leave, or stay, or even return … I feel this is all written into our DNA. Our coding of God and the Universe so to speak. Do I feel that we shape our lives? Yes, however I feel that some things: our true career path, the one we shall be happiest and best at, those whom we will meet and love and either be treasured or torn apart by … and those whom we keep close such as our children, friends, and family. I sincerely believe that all of these things are pre-written, and no matter the turns we take in life we will eventually cross the paths we are not only supposed to take but that we will enjoy. All souls find one another someday, be it after years or only a few moments after birth. I firmly believe this.

… I often find myself wondering …

Do you feel I was meant to meet you, too?

 

The smell of eggs, and a robust blend of Colombian coffee beans filtered through the air and into the vents towards a nose buried beneath covers on the second floor. The owner of this selective set of nostrils was a woman, no more than 23 and currently passed out as she had been since late the night before. Typically she was the type to be up early, nearly at the crack of dawn, to run through the waves that lapped along the white beach that lay outside the home; yet here she was still sleeping soundly in her bed as if she were a child dreading the commute to school. The growing smell of java seemed to cause the young woman to stir, her arm finally managing to wriggle free and out from beneath the covers to search for her phone on the bedside table. What time was it? Hell, what day was it? These were things she could hardly remember at such an early hour or in her state of minimum consciousness. It took her a moment, yet she finally found the Samsung and lifted it to reveal a pair of pained moss green eyes.

They were large, gentle, and currently terribly confused at the alarm that had been canceled upon her device. Despite the mass of long reddish brown hair, and dried drool upon her porcelain cheek, she was a lovely girl; one that stood at a great height of 5’7” when upright and was a good 130 pounds of muscle. Her hair was cut in razored layers, bangs set to swoop across her forehead in a framing motion to the right and its hue complimented the paleness of her skin. She was clearly not one to go out in the high sun on the beach that awaited outside the home. Why? “S**t … I’ll kill him …” Voice groggy, it evened out to a soft tone one would expect from a mother singing to her child; it was as gentle as her eyes, and highly intelligent in its pronunciation of even such a vulgar word. “Reid!”

The sound of a pan clanging downstairs alerted the now woken female that the man in question was indeed still in the home below, and that he was clearly the perpetrator behind her silenced alarm and the delightful smell floating into her room. Ugh, she had to get up. The sentiment was echoed within her movements, for as she slipped from under the blankets and stumbled forwards the brunette seemed to mentally curse yet again. She was still tired from the night before, and in a mild mood of irritation that her daily routine had been interrupted by such a man. … No, he wasn’t that bad she supposed.

Not all bad.

“Izzy, you up?!”

The familiar baritone voice sent a chill down her spine as she stumbled towards the spiraling stairs that led to the vast kitchen below. It held a kindness, a warmth, that she knew well … in fact she was spoiled by this voice more than once daily. Why? Reid was the type of person whom cared deeply for those he valued and allowed into his inner circle, yet at the same time was a rather laid-back and unconcerned person when it came to those whom he either held no respect for or didn’t trust. Rubbing at her eyes once more the young woman stopped on the last few steps, allowing a small yawn to escape as she answered the male within the same room as herself now. “I am … no thanks to you.” Her quip escaped less harsh and more nonchalant than she’d planned. Green eyes lifting finally they fell upon the figure whom she had come to memorize over the past year; Reid was positioned at the stove top, bare chested and in a pair of fitted, yet faded, jeans.

His eyes lifted finally, a spatula in one hand as he examined the new addition to his banquet. Reid was a handsome man, with dark gray eyes and jet black hair that was cut shaggy to frame his squared jaw; It was somewhere between a short and a medium cut, more than enough for one to run their fingers through it however impossible to pull up in any type of hair tie. He was a tall guy, standing around 6’4” with around 140 pounds of softly toned muscle and varied types of ink work embedded into his arms and torso; save for the tattoos and his almost brooding eyes, one could often pick him from a group thanks to his ever present coy grin. In fact, even in this type of situation where a woman dressed in naught but an over-sized t-shirt and a pair of older bike shorts stood before him … it was present as if meant to tease her terribly. “The eggs will be cold if you don’t hurry and eat.”

It appeared he had already begun to make another batch, meaning he had utterly abandoned the plate of food he’d initially made for himself that was sitting atop the bar part of the kitchen’s island. At this Isabella, almost always known as Izzy by the man before her, wandered over to one of the stools and sank into a sit. It was uncoordinated as per her usual style and a bit louder than she’d intended as she reached for the fork that was left resting against the plate. She knew these were his eggs, and his hash browns, and his toast and she was thankful …. But she liked her eggs sunny side up and he enjoyed his soft scrambled. “Reid.” Before she could stop herself the name had spilled forth and caused the 26 year old male to glance back with a cocked eyebrow. He seemed to pick up on the situation and simply laughed without saying a word.

The two remained silent for a good five minutes, allowing the sound of sizzling sausage and eggs to fill the void until finally the blackette grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee. Izzy’s he left ¼ empty for the large amount of creamer she enjoyed within it, his however he filled completely for he liked his black. With a click of the dial the stove top was turned off and the man whom had been placing all his attention upon it spun with his own plate of food and mugs of java in hand. “No complaints yet? I’m shocked.” With a smirk he leaned forward, dark eyes searching through the large bay windows that jutted from the front of the beach home; in fact a dining table was in front of it, yet it was something they rarely used for it was simply the two of them in a large 5 bedroom home by the sea.

She nearly had complained, yet decided to keep her mouth closed about the egg situation; she could eat them scrambled, and had begun to do so already. “Why did you shoosh my alarm?” The words came out slightly muffled from a large bit of toast and eggs she’d partaken in, and instantly found herself transfixed in mid chew. Her words had caused a genuine laugh to escape the man before her and this was a sight and sound that constantly stirred a mixture of unease and awe within the brunette; it was rare for him to genuinely laugh, and when it happened it was an almost musical sound. His features relaxed, his eyes closed, and the usual furrowed brows that rested beneath his bangs evened out to make the sound even more striking against his appearance. He sounded like a boy, filled with adventure and enthusiasm for life when he laughed genuinely … maybe that was why she was constantly caught off guard when it happened. Okay, not constantly for it didn’t happen often but when it did … oh even her knees knocked together. Reid was always popular with women, this was something he knew, and was something he made use off; he wasn’t a relationship type of guy after all. He was a one night stand type, a not get too close and get attached type.

Calming his diaphragm the man returned to his usual coy smile, lifting his coffee to his lips to take a drag before answering, “I felt like teasing you this morning. You’re an hour late for work … though I called out for you already. Told them you collapsed from heat exhaustion while running in the sand and it was a miracle we found you before you were sucked away by the sea.” The words, spoken so evenly, caused Izzy to nearly choke on her breakfast in a mixture of horror and awe. Finally managing to swallow she slammed her hands on the bar top, eyes large before sputtering out, “Are you serious?! Reid!”

The 26 year old snickered, “I lied. I just told Panda to give you a day off because you overwork yourself, and he surprisingly enough agreed.” Taking another sip of his coffee the young man started eating his breakfast gingerly, “I have to be at work at 11 so I’ll be leaving you soon.” His eyes were already looking to the clock, reading the steady ticking hand that lingered over 10:15. It was a 30 minute commute to his place of employment, not that his boss would be angry if he were a bit late but that was beside the point. Reid Fitzgerald was his own boss, in all actuality he was a music producer that worked long hours and lived far away from the city near the ocean thanks to a need for privacy. He had a meeting this morning with a new client and therefore had to make a good impression, this was the only reason he was concerned about being late.

“And here I thought you had a good reason for being a dick. You were just acting on impulse after all.” Sighing the young woman took another bite of her toast, admittedly disappointed that he hadn’t planned something for once. “What shall I do today, then? Pick up your dry-cleaning?” Now she was teasing, making a reference to something in their past as well as genuinely seeking out an answer to her question as she pushed her plate away and placed the fork down upon her unfinished food. She’d lifted her cup to drink when the plate was lifted from in front of her and cleared away much like the now empty one of Reid’s; he always ate too fast and she had finally given up on scolding him about it. He shrugged, smirking as he walked into the sun room that was connected with their kitchen towards the small laundry room off to the edge of the home.

This was the back of the house, the part that faced the beach, and of which the large wooden patio was connected to outside. The sun was up, shining into the long indoor porch as the black head wandered in search of a shirt; he finally returned, pulling a black and light grey polo over his head as he reentered the kitchen. “I do have dry-cleaning if you wouldn’t mind. The usual place … and the grocery list is getting a bit full, much like the food money jar.” Reid spoke calmly, pulling on a large silver and black faced watch with diamond accents before reaching for Izzy’s head. It seemed to be a morning ritual for he ruffled the still bedridden mass of hair before grabbing a folded coat that was resting on the stool beside her, “Don’t get into trouble. I’ll be home around 6 and I expect you to be here, deal?” He spoke teasingly, however his tone implied he really did wish her to be home when he returned.

This naturally made the young woman wonder … maybe he did have something planned after all? Shrugging away from the brother like gesture Isabella smiled meekly, “I’ll take care of it. Have a good day, a*****e!” The words were called out as the man aimed for the front door, and his laughter echoed back behind him. After a few seconds the sounds faded and the brunette was left to sit in the silence of the empty house, eyes locked upon her feet and mind wandering off to a distant memory. It had been a bit over a year, hadn’t it?

She had come to this city with only a bag and a hopeful outlook, and been met with a rather different life than she’d imagined. She’d planned to come here, find herself a job and work her way up to something in the journalism field for this was her goal, and what she’d come to this place to do. To write, about anything and everything … though she had a special spot in her heart for photojournalism. Instead of taking it bit by bit, she’d met a strange man on the subway …. And here she was.

A sound, much like a memory coming to reply before her caught her attention and caused her to look towards the spot in the kitchen just in front of the stairs.

 

“You’re kidding me?! You live here?! How the hell do you expect me to help you pay rent here?!”

“Oi, I never asked you for rent. I don’t need your money, and what I need more than that is someone to keep the place in order and my affairs taken care of. Pick up my dry-cleaning, fill the cabinets and fridge with food and maybe occasionally entertain me with some video game combat.” Reid stood, arms crossed and head cocked to the side; he seemed almost unsure however spoke in a manner that suggested otherwise. He was thinking, brows knit in a thin line and he was nibbling at his lower lip, “If your mouth hangs agape any longer a fly may find it and go to sleep.”

Isabella was flabbergasted, nearly falling over from shock and forced to sink into a sit upon the staircase to her right. She’d been tossed into this strange, almost dream-like, state the past hour; she had come to this city nearly four hours ago, and only two hours in had bumped into a man on the subway. He was snarky, and initially came on as if he wished to simply take her to bed and then be done with her … yet something changed mid conversation. He’d seemed interested, almost viewing her as a project and suddenly offered her a home and vowed to find her a job by the end of the week with a large magazine. On top of this? He lived in a beach house this large and didn’t expect her to pay jack?!

“Who are you?” Green eyes large she was impressed, and also wary of this strange luck she’d stumbled upon. This type of thing she had only read in comics and seen on dramas … this type of thing didn’t happen in real life right? “Why would you help a total stranger in this way?”

The black headed man shrugged, gray eyes intrigued, “As I’ve said my name is Reid Fitzgerald, Ms. Greer. As to why I’m doing this?” He unfolded his arms and smirked playfully, “You’re cute and you seem to have some wit in that mass of shoulder length hair. You had a very bewildered look on your face when I first saw you, and for some reason I get the feeling I’m supposed to help you. Let’s leave it at that, shall we Izzy?”

“Izzy?” As if she had failed to pick up on anything save the nickname the brunette stared in awe at the hand that had been extended to her. The young man had reached out to shake her hand much like they were striking a deal, and with a snarky grin spoke, “Do we have an accord, madam?”

Without thinking she’d reached out and shook his hand roughly. Why? She felt she could trust this man and she knew only enough information about him that could fit the subway ride and the 30 minute walk from the city to here. “Alright then.”

 

Isabella sighed, the memory slipping from her consciousness before finally vanishing into the depths of her mind’s vault. That’s right … it had been nearly a year and a half, hadn’t it? Standing the young woman found herself playing with a strand of hair, green eyes distant as if thinking over something important as she rounded the kitchen island and started depositing the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Reid had come off initially as an a*****e, a suave and almost too good to be true type of guy with only one thing on his mind; then again this wasn’t something he’d deny as he was just that type of guy usually. Then again … it had been what, eight months now since she’d seen a woman in this home?

The clang of a plate seemed to strike another memory for before the young woman managed to close the dishwasher she found her eyes wandering to her left and idly resting on a place just in front of the fridge across the kitchen.

 

“Bleh, she’s still here?”

Isabella sat with her legs folded, holding a cup of coffee on the floor facing the kitchen; she was leaning against the wall and gazing out the back door towards the rising sun. She’d seemed to referencing a young woman that had just descended the stairs in a naught but a dirty button up that clearly belong to the man making breakfast. She was petite, blond and had vengeful blue eyes as she passed the brunette; Ashlynn was her name and she’d been a constant guest periodically over the past four months. It was frankly something that Izzy was getting sick of, and here she’d only been in the home two months before her appearance.

Ashlynn appeared to scrunch her nose, arms latching around the tall male that was clearly ignoring both of the women in the room at the moment. “Reid, make her apologize to me. She’s just a freeloader anyway, right? Why’s she here again?”

Before Isabella could even open her mouth to retort the black headed man spoke for her, nearly dropping the spatula that had been flipping an egg. His voice was sharp, dark eyes glaring daggers at the woman he’d shared a bed with the night before, “She lives here, so last I checked you were the freeloader here, ya?” Unable to control her laughter Izzy had broken into a fit and nearly spilled her coffee at the look that instantly sprang into the blonde’s features. Oh she was going to love this, not only had she gotten breakfast but now a show!

“What?! I should leave your a*s right now for that rudeness!”

“Oi, Iz … looks like this one thinks we’re getting serious. Mind showing her the door?” He hadn’t even looked up from the sizzling sausage and focused on transferring it to a plate of his own. Ashlynn had stood shocked out of words and he flipped the stove top off and nudged around her as if she were no more important than the rugs on the bathroom floor. Reid had grabbed his cup and plate, crossed the room and sank into a sit upon the stair that led to the dropped level of their indoor porch. He plopped down beside Isabella and looked up, lips tugged upwards sarcastically, “Oh, she’s still here?"

Without Isabella even moving Ashlynn let out a sound that resembled that of an animal with a wounded pride before rushing past the duo without as much as a word of ill will. Izzy watched in silence, mildly worried for the woman who’d appeared to be fighting back tears as she swallowed, “Shouldn’t you go after her?” Reid simply shrugged in response before shoving a piece of egg into his mouth and sputtering out mid chew, “She wasn’t that good of a f**k. Nah.”

 

That’s right, that morning had been the first time she’d seen how he treated others. How he treated those whom he seriously saw no value in … s**t why was she living with such an a*****e? Sighing audibly the young woman finished closing the dishwasher and flipped the switch for it to start a cycle before heading up the stairs to take a shower. She’d pass on running this morning, the sun was far too high and she was too pale to go out without sunscreen with it like this out. She’d rather feel a bit chubby during the day than burn and get even whiter than she already was.

 

When I was younger I often got into trouble; alright I suppose it was more of I started trouble.

It followed me like a shadow because I poked my nose into it so much. Why? That was where I felt comfortable, where I felt the safest … I could control that. I could keep people at a good distance and that was a nice feeling, it was a safe haven and something I grew to enjoy even more as I grew older. Then, I woke one day in this large home with two friends and most of the community I lived in disliking my existence. Why? I had caused all of it from pushing people away, from using them for my own selfishness and then tossing them to the side when I got too close. When I began to feel threatened.

… Then there was you.

A lost little lamb in a wolves den; and you looked so helpless, so clueless of this chaos you’d just walked into. For some reason I found it alluring, I found it tugging at something deep in my chest and I felt I had to take care of you. I felt that I had to protect you from the carnivores surrounding you wearing white.

This world can despise me so long as you keep a smile in all honesty. They can hate me.

But I swear, should any of those wolves stray and bare their fangs to you … I’ll return home drenched in blood. I’ll show no remorse, no weakness the moment I catch wind of it. I’m damned, but I will not allow them to do to you such a thing. You can remain a lamb, safe and content in the den of the cruelest wolf among them; that was the promise I made that day when you took my hand.

 

Izzy, I’ll be home in about an hour. ~ Reid

… Oi, are you ignoring me? ~ Reid

F*****g hell woman, if I get home and you’re passed out on my bed with my TV blaring again! ~ Reid

… Hey. Izzy. I’ll be home in twenty … get dressed to go out. We have plans tonight. ~ Reid

Isabella! Answer me for f***s sake! Are you alright?! ~ Reid

Are you serious?! You’re starting to freak me out. Are you really not answering me!? ~ Reid

 

“Damn it, Reid! I said I would be down in a minute!”

“Did you just decide not to answer me!? Or better yet not even turn the alarm off?!” The man was snarky, and clearly irate as he rammed against the door once more. He seemed annoyed, and his facial expressions carried this emotion very well: his eyes were mildly narrowed, and brows pulled together as if thoughts were circling.

In the end she’d simply ran out to do her errands and returned home … only to fall asleep on the couch. Isabella was currently pressed against the bathroom door, fighting to keep it closed from the man that had ascended the stairs and started knocking impatiently. The 26 year old had text her several times to let her know he’d be home soon and to be dressed to go out, and she’d been sleeping until 15 minutes before his arrival. Oh he was going to be pissed and she’d known it but this was a bit insane! “Reid!”

He grunted, pushing against the door again with furrowed brows, “Do you realize how worried I was when you didn’t answer me!? I thought someone broke in and …” His words ended suddenly, the force against the door vanishing as if he’d spoken a magic word. Letting out an exhausted sigh he turned the nob and poked his head inside, dark eyes finding the young woman wrapped in a towel and hair drenched from the shower she’d just exited; she was perched atop the toilet and staring off into the floor. He’d said something he shouldn’t have and he knew it … “Izzy …”

A look of panic appeared forced from her features at the familiar sound of her name; Isabella looked up and watched the man a moment with muddled green eyes. The action he’d been taking with the door wasn’t what had tossed her into a bit of a panic … but the words he’d been speaking. The words he’d failed to finish. The mention of something she’d rather not remember from long before she came here.

From before she’d become like a small bird nestled under his wing.

“Oi, that face is annoying.”

As if she were being tugged back to the reality of the steam ridden bathroom the 23 year old found her companion in a squat before her. He’d tapped her softly over the head with something, something that made a crinkling noise much like paper, and instantly had yanked her back to reality with the worried set of gray boring into her features. Looking up she felt something in her throat catch before it flowed down to her chest much like a wave of tears forced backwards. Why? As she’d looked up to find what she’d been attacked with her eyes had found a rather unusual object … something she’d seen only once before. Something that caused her to bite her lower lip and swallow down another wave again.

Forget-me-nots. Blossoms delicately wrapped in a green tissue paper and tied in a sheer cobalt ribbon. Her favorite flower in the entire world and the hardest blossom in the known universe to find. Here.

Reid laughed softly before placing them in her lap and pulling his hand back to rest on his knees, “Why such a strange face, eh? You really think I’d forget or something?”

“Stupid! A*****e!” The young woman sniffed out, a few stray tears managing to slip past her forced barrier as she grabbed the bouquet with one hand and launched forward to embrace her room-mate.

Reid laughed, catching the reckless woman before they both toppled backwards and allowed her to spit out several unpleasant words near his ear. Despite this, for every cruel name she called him the embrace she’d caught his neck in tighten with each syllable. “Yeah, yeah. I’m scum: the lowest of the low in fact. Happy Birthday and all that s**t, princess.” Feeling her grip tighten again he laughed the same genuine melody he’d mustered up at breakfast, “You keep it up and I’ll take them back.”

“Would not.” Admittedly the sound of his laugh caused her to calm for a moment before she sniffed out the words. He’d found her in the summer and gone through winter with her, and without even knowing her very long had gotten her flowers at this same time last year. For her birthday after only being told once, three days after she’d moved into his home. This a*****e had remembered something so irrelevant and acted upon it without as much as a reminder, or a request. Izzy gripped at his shirt tighter, shaking lightly when she felt the young man shift and go to stand, “You’re a jerk.”

Gray eyes content the producer laughed yet again, managing to pull away and wipe at the few tears he’d spotted. “And you’re a sap, but I’ve never held it against you, dimwit. Now get dressed already … you keep holding onto me like that in a towel and who knows what I’ll do, ya?” He’d been teasing, at least partially and thankfully had been taken as such. Isabella hissed under her breath before elbowing him in the rib cage and sending him laughing back towards the door. With a coy grin he allowed himself to be shoved from the room and wasn’t even phased by the door being slammed into his face.

It took a moment, maybe more in his mind, but when he found himself in the silence of the upstairs hallway his gaze softened. It locked on the closed door and remained even after the sound of a muffled hair dryer filled the empty void between the two humans occupying the house. S**t she was a handful, really … worrying him and making him run home like he was some type of athlete and then insulting him when he still had gotten her a gift. Reid found himself leaning forward, forehead pressing against the door as if he were planning to fall forward when it was opened; he remained here in this fashion for nearly three minutes, simply listening to the sniffling still going on in the room.

Jeez she was still whining about it … “I was worried.” The words slipped from his lips in a muffled whisper, and went clearly unheard from the lack of a response from the restroom. This was as he’d intended for he wasn’t the type to get sentimental in front of others. He waited, listening for the noise to die down in the room before he took a breath, “Happy Birthday, Isabella.”

She’d heard the words, a pure whisper filled with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on to name and out of instinct opened the door. She found the mass of black already heading down the stairs, her companion’s face far out of her line of sight. Reid … he’d sounded sad. Why? For a moment she watched the air in the vacant hallway, green eyes large and mind still absorbing the name he’d used. He never used her full name, hell he never had used her full name even when they’d first met. The man had dubbed her Izzy the moment he’d heard her name and used it from that moment on to be precise … so why?

The young woman slipped to the railing and peered down, quite as not to alert her friend of her actions and what she found left her even more confused. He’d stopped at the foot of the stairs, fingers pressing against his temples as if he were in pain before letting out a heavy sigh; it was the type of breath that one held when they’d been fearful, when they’d been holding something in their chest. Then he ran a hand through his hair and headed off towards the back door, calling over his shoulder, “Hurry up or we’ll be late! We have reservations at 8 dimwit!”

That’s right, that’s the type of guy he was after all; he was the type to do something sweet and then pass it off with a crude comment. The type to act selflessly and then force himself to cover it up with overkill. Laughing lightly Isabella retreated back to the bathroom to finish getting dressed, “I’ll be down soon!”

 

I feel I met you for a reason. The type that warms your chest and causes you to forget things.

You’re that type: the kind, genuine type that’s been hurt deeply. I learned that only a few months after being here in this house with you; after listening to you hum and strum at an old acoustic guitar. After hearing you laugh when you’re drunk and think no one is paying attention. After seeing you wandering around looking at the stars in the middle of the night. After hearing your voice catch when you saw me cry for the first time. After feeling your arms when you squeezed me so tight I felt all the broken things in my own chest piece together; after I felt safe and secure and taken care of in this vast world.

I met you for a reason. A special one that I keep deep in my heart even when you call me things.

Please God … Universe … anyone …

Please let me fix this broken, lonely man that so desperately wants something to cling to. Someone to reach through this silly hole he’s dug himself into for self-preservation.

Please, let me reach him?

Author's Note

Italics are thoughts. Bold italics are memories/flashbacks. Bolds are text/email/written communications.