by Nina Levine
“It was one night.” I throw my bag over my shoulder. He presses the button to his automatic garage door opener, and the grinding ends our conversation. “You need to oil that,” I suggest.
“We’re having a chat. Now. Just you and me.”
“Not now,” I spit with sixteen years of guilt and torment twisting in my gut. “I have to call my mum back, and I need time to process. Give me that.” The days surrounding the anniversary of my father’s death are a struggle, and I prefer to drink and get wasted than chat about my feelings. There’s a chance my dark secret may rear its ugly head, and I can’t chance it.
“Answer this…” Brax folds his arms and stands in front of the door of the garage that leads to the inside of his house. “Will your new friends from the Silver Hell MC be making any surprise visits?”
“They’re not my new friends.”
He raises a brow. “Did you fuck that chick last night?”
“Christ,” I mutter and push my fingers over the top of my head. “Fucking a chick and becoming friends with a motorcycle club are two different things.”
“She’s not just any chick,” he says and gives me a firm look. “You forget, I’ve lived my entire life in Brisbane. Born and raised here, and as a teenager knew if anyone needed a favour, there was a certain club that could get dirty business done.”
“And this club has plenty of money?”
“Yeah. It’s why people seek their help when they get themselves into debt. I assumed you don’t gamble—”
“I don’t,” I bark. “I’ve always been careful with money.” Misplacing my wallet was a fucking stupid thing to do, especially when my bank cards link to the farm. Rhett would kill me if he knew I was that reckless. He’d kill me if he knew of the secret I’ve kept from the family since I was eight. I’d rather feel his wrath for my stupidity than the latter.
“Star is not any ol’ chick.” There’s a seriousness in his eyes that has my gut tightening. “Where was the party?”
“In the valley.”
“Describe the house.”
“I barely remember. It was dark with an enormous tree out front.” I shake my head to unravel my thoughts as I fail to understand why he’s so concerned about some party when I said it wouldn’t happen again.
“And roots to trip you up, so you smash your head on a fucking boulder?”
Trying to work out where he’s going with this, I hold his gaze for a moment. “Yeah.”
“Fuck. It was Phoenix’s house, wasn’t it?”
I shrug, not giving two fucks. “No idea.”
“That’s Star’s dad. He’s not the president of the club, but the guy who is, well… it was his son who Star was going to marry and then did a runner. She’s still part of the club, and she’s… atoning her sins as to speak. She’s being watched, especially by her father, because he’s vice president, and he expects her to get back with Bear.”
“Bear.” I frown at him. “Not his real name, I assume.”
“Bear because he’ll fucking rip your guts out and bury you with your intestines sprawled over your face.”
The look on my face is enough for Brax’s shoulders to relax a little. “That’s the message you’ll get if you screw around with his girl. Stay. The. Fuck. Away.”
“Got it.”
Jesus, how was I to know Star was off-limits. My gut is twisting with calling my mother. It’s turning inside out with the realisation of what could have been last night.
I’m staring at his broad back as we walk down the hallway toward the kitchen. “You’re rather informed about Star.”
Brax turns with an exasperated look on his face. “Her family are fans and follow Brisbane. And before you say anything… I wasn’t the guy who got into trouble and needed their help. We don’t want them showing up at training and watching us just to give a warning they want their money back, or whatever the fuck it is a player owes. I can tell you one thing…” he jabs a finger toward my face, “… no one was stupid enough to mess around with Star.” He storms off to his room, and I do the same.
While considering his last words, I close the door to my room with a loud slam.
No one was stupid enough to mess around with Star, the words rumble through my mind.
Over time, I’ve done some dumb-arse things, and this doesn’t even come close. I empty my bag of smelly training clothes. Even after all these years, I can’t handle the musky odour that develops if you don’t launder them immediately. Here in the humidity, it’s so much worse. I swear mould would grow on them in a day if I left them. Heading to the laundry, I soak the clothes in a bowl first—something Mum taught me.
Sitting on my bed, I lean over and retrieve my phone from the bag intending to call her. I open my mother’s contact and pause because I’m thinking about Star.
Last night—she was there when I needed someone. And I opened my big mouth and told her about my father’s accident. What else did I tell her? The concern is brief, replaced by a shroud of calm wrapping around me. The short time with her was overwhelming and yet remarkably satisfying. Being inside her. Tasting her. And the way she took my cock in her mouth. I flop on the bed and link my fingers behind my head. With eyes closed, I recall everything. How the hell I remember, only I do. Joy seeps into my bones at a time my head is clouded in grief. I give myself a few minutes of pleasure before pressing the button to call Mum.
“Hey,” I croak. “How are you?”
“Dustin.” Her tone is one of relief. “I’m okay. How are you?”
“Okay. I’m settling in. Had my first training with the team this morning.” She remains quiet, so I keep talking. “The coach has his head screwed on, and the young lads are focused. I’m looking forward to playing with them.” More silence. Today is not a day she wants to hear about football.
“Dustin.” Her tone is laced with patience and understanding, yet an indicator she wants to say something else.
“Mum.”
“I’m happy for you, I really am. Like I said before your flight, I know this wasn’t part of your plan or where you wanted to finish your days playing footy, but—”
“I’ll make the most of my days here and give it my best shot. We’ve had this conversation.”
“—you don’t have to pretend everything is okay, today.”
I let out a long sigh. There’s no fooling my mother. She knows the burden, the sadness we hang onto because it surfaces in early November every bloody year.
“Did you visit his grave?” I ask in a softer voice.
“Yes, love. Rhett and Tori came with me because Jase is in Adelaide. They selected him to play for a league club. He found a rental in Glenelg and is checking it out this week. So, he won’t be back for a few days.”
“What club?”
“The Bays. Finally gave the big smoke a go, and since he has the height like you, and Rhett knew his football days were numbered if he didn’t give it a shot.”
“That’s great.” Although it’s not the reason for her call. “They’ll miss him around town.”
“Yeah,” she says and pauses. “He wasn’t coping. After Jacinta split up with him for another player at our local club, he didn’t want to play footy there anymore. He always had the talent, only he was happy at the farm. I’m not sure what he’ll do for work in the city.”
Mum is always worrying about something when we should be taking care of her.
“Shit, I didn’t know she did that. It’s a good thing he’s twenty-two and will work it out. Why doesn’t he stay in Rhett’s house? It’s big enough for the entire team. Or mine… for now. Before I sell it. If you kept me in the loop, I’m sure there’s something I could do to help.”
“You have enough on your plate, love. But that’s a lovely offer. I’ll tell him.”
“It’s fine. I’ll call him.” Damn, my gut pangs saying the words. “It’s been a long time since I spoke with you all.”
I rub the back of my neck to ease the tension. I’m the middle brother and ne
ver saw eye to eye with Rhett or Jase. Both believe I’m a selfish prick. Maybe I am, but I did what I had to do to remain sane.
“He’d love that. He feels like he’s going through this alone.”
We both remain silent. She understands I’ve suffered on my own for years. “Did you say Rhett and Tori are back from South America?”
“Yes, for Tori to start IVF. They are giving it one last shot. So, she’ll commute between here and the city for a while.”
“Rhett is taking the reins?”
“He’s always had the reins, love. I’m grateful you both helped financially with the farm. Both your football careers benefitted the business. Yet, he knows with Jase gone, there’ll be no more trips overseas for indigenous sponsorship. I’ll need him here.”
“Of course, you do. He shouldn’t expect a sixty-year-old woman to run the farm on her own.” I swallow hard. I’m a bastard expecting my brothers to help while I stay the fuck away.
“For one, I’m not sixty yet. I’m fifty-eight.”
“Close enough.”
“You should never add years to a lady’s age.”
I chuckle. I love this banter with Mum. It’s been years since we did this after being out in the orchards during the daylight hours. Jase was younger, so it was Mum and me against the world.
“I miss you.” I stare up to the white ceiling, to the fan spinning above my bed.
“I miss you, too. I want to come and see you and watch you play.”
“You’d like Brisbane, Mum. Why don’t you treat yourself and come visit before the footy season begins? I’ll show you around. We could do the touristy thing together.”
“It sounds lovely but—”
“You’ve barely been on a holiday since Dad died. If Rhett and Tori are there, they can take care of things. I mean, how long was I there while Rhett focused on his football career?”
“I know. You were my little man taking care of me.”
Until I couldn’t take care of myself.
“I’m buying a new car this week and debating whether to buy a house or rent. If I buy, I’ll sell my property in Adelaide. Either way, you’ll have somewhere to stay. I’m only staying with the lads temporarily.”
“You don’t want an old woman cramping your style.”
A single cough burst from my throat. “I would love for you to cramp my so-called style. If I were honest, you would enhance it.”
Mum giggles, and I can’t recall hearing the sweet sound of happiness in a playful way come from her in years. “You’re being silly now.”
“I’m serious. I want you here. I want to share my new life with you.”
“Let me talk to Rhett.”
“I’ll talk to Rhett. If I’m calling Jase, I may as well call him while I’m on a roll.”
“Thank you,” she says in a quiet voice.
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“To be honest, before I called you it worried me how you would be. I thought you might be in a bad place.”
If she’d seen me last night…
“I’m good, Mum. No need to worry about me,” I lie. “Focus on yourself and the farm and getting up here to see your favourite son.”
She chuckles again. “Dusty, I don’t have a favourite. I love you all equally.”
“We have a special connection.”
“Yes, my boy, we do.”
“Hey, man.” I look to the door at Braxton, his blond hair wet as though he’s had another shower. “Rohan has cooked us all lunch,” he says in a low voice, so he doesn’t disturb my conversation.
I give him a nod. “Be there shortly.”
“Mum, I’ll call you soon and hook you up with flights after I speak with my brothers.”
“Okay, love. It was good to hear your voice. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I place my phone beside my bed and remain laying a little longer to absorb the conversation. She deserves a bloody holiday, and I’ll make sure Rhett gets her on a flight to visit me as soon as I can make it happen.
5
“I haven’t visited the farm or anywhere near the Riverina in the last four years,” I tell Brax. We’re sitting on the balcony with views of the city. It’s been two days since I promised him I would explain myself, so when the younger lads went out for dinner, we stayed in. “Every time I went home, I was mentally in a worse place than before the visit.” The memories cut into me like the knife I wanted to take to my wrists in my teens. I withhold telling him the raw truth and how the guilt had me searching for something to ease the pain. “I promised to only allow my demeanour to crack on the anniversary, so for every other day of the damn year, I did what it took to preserve my mental health.”
“All this happened when you were eight. What about Rhett? How did he handle your father’s death?” Brax says it quietly, yet I understand it’s news to him since not even Rhett let on about our family’s grief. He takes a swig of his beer, lowers his gaze until I speak again.
I shrug nonchalantly. “He was older and living in Adelaide. It was his first year playing with the Blackbirds. He came home for a few weeks, then Mum sent him back and told him to chase his dream. She said his being home wouldn’t bring our father back. So, he left me, an eight-year-old lad, to take care of Mum. Jase was five years old and didn’t comprehend it all. The year Rhett left, Dad and I became closer. He was teaching me how to take care of the farm and let me ride the tractor—” I glug down the rest of my beer at the memory and stand to get another because dammit, I need to numb what I’m feeling.
“Gorgeous night,” Brax’s neighbour says from her balcony. She leans on the railing and holds up her wineglass.
“It is,” Brax says, as though they talk often.
“The Story Bridge is so pretty tonight.” She looks admiringly toward the city lights.
“Yeah,” is all he replies.
“You want to introduce me to your pretty neighbour?” I say it in a lower voice so only Brax can hear.
He frowns at me. “Not a fucking chance.”
I take a few steps to the edge of the balcony. “I’m Dusty.”
“Hey, Dusty. I’m Mia. I was stoked to hear you’re joining my team.”
I chuckle. I can’t get a good look at her since it’s after eight and the shadows of the night conceal her face, yet I can see enough to recognise beauty. “Did you hear that?” I say to Brax and wink. “She’s stoked I’m here.”
I turn back to Mia. “The bridge lights are exceptional at night.”
“They are, right? The colours always signify something.”
Brax joins me. “Are you all heading to Perth for Christmas?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Not this year,” she says. “Mum is booked in for surgery, so she’ll need to rehabilitate.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.” There is concern in his tone.
“A knee replacement. If I need any help, I’ll call out.”
Something changes in the way he’s looking at Mia. “I’ll leave you and the girl next door to it,” I whisper. “See you around, Mia.” I hold up my bottle of beer in salute and head inside.
Mia was the perfect distraction. I was done with the emotional chat to Brax. At least he knows what set me off on the same date in November. I didn’t tell him everything, though. No one knows my darkest secret, but I told him enough to get him off my back. Every year I do what I have to do to get through the days and nights, then I sort my shit out and remain focused on football for the rest of the year. This year is no different. If anything, I have more to prove, and I won’t let my team down.
I head to the refrigerator, and before I open it, I’m distracted by a motor revving outside. Since Brax is outback talking to Mia, I check the security camera. Star tucks her helmet under her arm and buzzes the gate entry.
Fuck. I want to let her in and head straight to my bedroom and relive the other night without a hit. I want nothing more than to be inside her, be in control, for I have been thinking about
her. But Brax’s warning of her connections to the biker club stops me from pressing the entry button.
I don’t know her.
But I don’t judge anyone on another person’s word.
Why not give Star a chance?
I hit the button and simultaneously Brax steps inside, his conversation with Mia on the back balcony over.
“Before you get uptight, I decided to give her a chance.”
“Who?” he asks and places his empty bottle on the kitchen counter.
“Star.”
The door buzzes.
“I let her through the gate.” His eyes widen. “We’ll hang out in my room a bit—”
“Is she alone?” he interrupts deadpan.
“We’ll soon find out.” I stride to the door and pull it open, and Star greets me with the biggest smile. “Did I leave something else behind?”
“Yeah. I wanted to wash it before returning it to you.” She waves a one-hundred-dollar bill in the air. “I removed all evidence.”
Before she says anything else, I pull her inside.
Brax and Star glance at each other, and I’m not blind to the tension in the room.
“Brax,” she says with no excitement in her voice.
“Star.” He nods. “Good to see you again.”
I can’t handle small talk. I’m not interested in their differences. “Follow me,” I tell Star and guide her to my room.
I close the door behind her and watch as she does a double-take of my belongings. There’s not much to look at because I’m not staying in this house, yet she hones in on the one photograph of my family. I don’t expect her to comment on the image of strangers. Instead, I allow myself to absorb what she’s wearing—a tiny denim skirt and a black tank top.
She picks up the frame and studies it. “I used to love watching Rhett play.”
“What?”
“Your brother. I used to watch him play when I was younger. Hunter and Rhett were my idols.”
“You follow AFL?”
She keeps on surprising me.
“Yeah. I also love your team. For years, I watched Darcy Rayne and then followed your progress when you first came to the team.”
