Hooker

by J. L. Perry

  Tate tells me he always felt like a part of him was missing, growing up. Even though he had a good life, and his adoptive parents loved him, he confesses to never truly feeling like he belonged. He tells me how his sisters resented him for being the son their parents always wanted, and gave him a hard time for it; how he left home as soon as he was old enough. He’s been working abroad for the past five years. That’s why Brock had trouble tracking him down.

  We sit up into the early hours of the morning catching up. We laugh and cry. It’s an amazing feeling to be reunited with him. I hate that we’ve missed out on so much, but we have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time.

  *

  I don’t have the nerve to bring out the letter that my father had written before he died until a few days after Tate arrives.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asks when I place it on his lap.

  ‘It’s all the information I have on our family. There’s some photos inside, and a letter from our father.’

  ‘Really? What’s it say?’

  ‘I haven’t read it yet. I was waiting to find you so we could read it together.’

  Tate holds the letter from our father in his hands. ‘Are you ready to see what it says?’

  ‘Yes.’ It’s the last piece of our puzzle. Hopefully it will tell us why he took his life. It’s the only thing we don’t know. My brother’s hands slightly shake as he removes the letter and unfolds it.

  To my dear children Tate and Jade,

  I couldn’t leave this earth without explaining my reasons for doing what I’ve done. Please don’t think for a minute that I don’t love you both, because I do, but my heart belongs wherever your mother is. I can’t physically go on without her by my side. It may be incredibly selfish of me to think that way, but it is what it is. She owns my heart and soul. She has since the moment I met her. The day I lost her, I lost my will to go on.

  I hate the thought of leaving you both in this big ugly world all alone, but I know you have each other and I have to find some comfort in that.

  Tate, look after your little sister. Even though you’re still young, I already see the love you have for her. You’re a good boy, and I know you’ll watch out for her and keep her safe when you’re older.

  Jade, my precious baby girl. You’re so much like your mother. Not only in looks, but personality. You’re sweetness right to the bone. She would’ve loved you so much if she’d got the chance to meet you. She always wanted a daughter and it breaks my heart knowing she gave her own life just to get you.

  I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for leaving you, but your mother is all alone, so I need to go to her. I’m no good to you like this, and I know you’ll always have each other.

  My wish is that you both have a wonderful, rich full life. I can no longer give you that, but always know your mother and I love you and will be watching out for you from above.

  Until we meet again.

  Always,

  Your father, Colin.

  We’re both quiet for the longest time once we’ve read our father’s parting words. I have a kaleidoscope of emotions running through me. I’m sad that he was so broken by her death, but at the same time, it was nice to hear how much he loved her. At least I’m the product of love.

  I feel guilty my mother died giving birth to me. My birth ruined all our lives and ripped our family apart. I’m also angry that my father’s decision tore me away from Tate and led me into a life of abuse at the hands of my carers, before being adopted by a woman who forced me into prostitution. That’s a hard pill to swallow.

  I wish he hadn’t taken his own life, leaving us to fend for ourselves. Tate’s life wasn’t that bad, but my childhood was horrific. My life would’ve been so different if he’d stuck around.

  ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t around to look after you,’ Tate says.

  ‘It was out of your hands. You were just a kid. I had a good life,’ I lie. There’s no point dredging up the past. Telling him the truth will do no good. Squeezing his hand, I force out a smile as pieces of my childhood flash through my mind.

  ‘I’m happy to hear that.’ He pauses. ‘Would you come to the cemetery with me tomorrow?’ he asks.

  ‘Of course.’ I don’t need to think about it. It will be good for us both.

  It’s a two-hour drive to the small town where Tate and I were born, and where our parents are buried. Brock is with us, but opts to stay in the car when we reach the cemetery. He thinks it’s something we should both do together, but assures me he’s here if I need him. I’d be lost without that man.

  We stop off in town and buy some beautiful white roses to place on their grave. As we approach the gravesites, I clutch the flowers to my chest as Tate bends down to clear the leaves that have gathered over their headstones. A lump rises to my throat when I read what they say.

  When Tate straightens, he drapes his arm over my shoulder. ‘Mum, Dad, it’s us, Tate and Jade. It’s taken twenty-four years for us to find each other again, but we wanted you to know that we’re finally together.’ He turns his head and smiles at me. ‘And I’m so glad we are.’

  ‘Me too,’ I say, putting my arm around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder.

  I pass one of the bunches of flowers to him and he bends down and lays them on our father’s grave. ‘I promise I’ll look after her,’ I hear him whisper.

  Crouching down, I lay my bunch of flowers by my mother’s headstone. ‘I’m sorry.’ I was just a baby, but I can’t help but feel responsible for her death. Suddenly, it all becomes too much and I cover my face with my hands and sob. I feel relieved I finally got to say that to her, it’s played on my mind my entire life. I wish more than anything that things could’ve been different.

  ‘Come here,’ Tate says, pulling me to my feet and into his arms. He hugs me tightly as we both cry for our parents, for our family, and for the life we missed out on. It’s cathartic. It’s closure. I know coming here today is the first step in truly healing. It will help us both. You may not be able to change the past, but you can shape your future.

  *

  M’s trial finally rolled around. Both Rupert and I were subpoenaed as witnesses. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but on the other hand, I was eager to see this through to the end—to finally be able to put M, my past, and everything I went through behind me. I have a wonderful life now and a family who loves me, so there’s no point dwelling on something I can’t change. I know Rupert is keen to see justice served, and the monsters responsible for his daughter’s death finally held accountable.

  To my dismay, I’m the first to be called to the stand. I’ve been dreading this day. Under the circumstances, the court offered to let me give my evidence by video link, but that would be the coward’s way out. I refuse to let her take one more piece of my dignity. I’d forever be disappointed in myself if I didn’t face her. I firmly believed standing up to M is exactly what I need to finally be free. It’s something I’ve yearned for. She bullied and intimidated me for far too long. With Sasha’s death always in my mind while I lived with M, it gave her the power to control me in the worst possibly way.

  Butterflies churn in my stomach the moment I enter the courtroom, but like every other tough situation I’ve faced in my life, I plan to tackle it head on. Squaring my shoulders, I put on my you-can’t-fuck-with-me-face as I walk to the witness box. My eyes briefly meet Brock’s as I pass. He nods, giving me a reassuring smile. His presence is all I’ll ever need. He’s my rock. Tate, Joshua and Theo are here with him to give Rupert and I moral support.

  ‘This way, Mrs Weston,’ the bailiff says as I approach him.

  I see M’s head swing around from where she’s sitting with her lawyer. I’m momentarily taken aback by her appearance. She’s no longer the immaculately dressed woman I once knew. Her hair isn’t meticulously styled like it used to be, and her face is bare. What really shocks me is the horrid prison green overalls she’s dressed in. They’re very unflatteri
ng. Karma’s a bitch.

  Her eyes narrow as soon as they meet mine. I swear if looks could kill I’d drop dead on the spot. Nice try. Her days of instilling fear in me are over. She can no longer hurt me, where she’s going.

  ‘Bitch,’ she mumbles as I pass.

  Looking her square in the eyes, I plaster a pleasant smile on my face and reply. ‘It takes one to know one.’ I refuse to let her intimidate me.

  Her mouth gapes at my brazenness and I see her lawyer place his hand on her arm, stopping her before she reacts further.

  I walk across the room with all the confidence I can muster. I feel liberated already. Once I’ve taken the stand, the bailiff makes me hold the bible up in front of me. ‘Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you god?’ he asks.

  ‘I do.’

  After I give my evidence, I’m not allowed to enter the courtroom again and the trial drags on for five tedious days. I sit in a small room just off the corridor and wait. Thankfully, Brock fills me in on all the comings and goings each day.

  The biggest shock of all comes on the last day of the trial, when Rocco takes the stand. Not only does he give his account of all the murders, he identifies the male remains and the reason behind his death.

  Brock tells me everything Rocco said. Apparently M wasn’t responsible for the man’s death, but was present on the day it happened. The victim’s name was Robert Sanderson. He was one of M’s many lovers, and the first body to go into the dam. The kicker was he was shot by Maxwell Weston. ‘He’s still fucking with me from the grave,’ Brock murmurs. ‘I never thought he was capable of murder. I guess he was more ruthless than I thought.’

  Going on what Rocco said, around twenty years ago, M and Maxwell were apparently having an affair. One day, Maxwell walked in on M and Robert in a compromising position, and shot him in a fit of jealousy.

  ‘You double-crossing dog,’ was apparently what M had screamed across the courtroom when Rocco said this. She never once tried to deny his claims. I can tell by his body language that it was heart-wrenching for Brock to hear this about his father, but it also explained a lot. Brock went on to tell that Maxwell had given M one million dollars only days after the murder had taken place and had gone on to spend millions more on M’s escorts. This may also explain Maxwell’s involvement in my kidnapping: Brock and I think he was bribed into taking part. M was no stranger to bribery; she thrived on it and always used it to get what she wanted.

  M’s lawyers successfully appealed to have the ninth murder charge downgraded to an accessory to murder, but fat lot of good that did her. She was found guilty of the other eight deaths as well as a string of other offences, and sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole.

  It’s gratifying to see her finally get her just deserts, but it will never bring back the lives she’s taken, or undo all the damage she caused over the years.

  Nevertheless, Rupert and I agree the past is now the past, and that’s exactly where it is going to stay. M can no longer harm another soul, and we take solace in that, making a pact to never mention her again.

  She’s dead to us.

  *

  It’s a few minutes before midnight on Christmas Eve, and I’m so excited I can’t sleep. We have the whole family staying at the house with us. Elaine, Joshua and Theo, my brother, Tate, and of course Rupert, who’s still living with us. Brock’s huge home was once empty, and it’s now bursting with life.

  This will be the first Christmas I’m surrounded by people I love, and who love me back. We have a beautifully decorated tree that’s bursting with presents. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. I have a huge feast planned.

  ‘Brock, are you awake?’ I say, nudging him.

  ‘I am now,’ he groans, rolling onto his side to face me. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘I can’t sleep. Can I give you one of your presents now? I don’t want to give it to you in front of the others.’

  Opening one eye, he studies me for a few seconds. ‘I sincerely hope you wouldn’t give me one of your magnificent blowjobs in front of our family.’

  I can’t help but laugh as I playfully slap his arm. ‘It’s not a blowjob.’ Rolling over, I turn on the bedside lamp before reaching into the drawer to retrieve the long thin box. ‘Open it,’ I say, passing it to him.

  Sighing, he squints as he sits up. Unwrapping the ribbon, he removes the lid. I’m pretty sure he’s going to like what’s inside, but the butterflies churn in my stomach nevertheless.

  ‘What the—’ His wide eyes meet mine.

  ‘It’s a—’

  ‘I know what it is,’ he says. ‘One of those stick things—a pregnancy test.’ Of course he knows. We’ve been trying to fall pregnant for months now. He’s sat with me on the side of the bed numerous times waiting and hoping. This time I did it without him. I hated to see the look of disappointment on his face every time we got a negative result.

  ‘Have a look at the lines.’

  I see a smile form on his lips. ‘You’re pregnant.’

  ‘Yes. We’re going to be parents.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I got confirmation this afternoon from the doctor.’

  Tossing the stick aside, he pulls me into his arms. ‘I’m going to be a father,’ he whispers.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Brock.’

  ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

  ‘I love you so much,’ he says as he lays me back into the mattress and covers my body with his. I see tears glisten his eyes.

  ‘I love you more.’

  ‘Not possible, sweetheart,’ he says before his lips meet mine.

  *

  It’s funny how one person can change everything. Change you. How one fleeting moment in time has the ability to redirect your path in life. To give your future meaning and hope. How something as simple as love can heal even the most damaged heart.

  That’s exactly what one man has done for me. My saviour. My knight in shining armour—Brock Weston. He may not have ridden in on his beautiful white stallion like I hoped, but that’s insignificant. He came, he conquered, and he did everything I dreamt he would.

  He saved me.

  He gave me a taste of how good life could be when we first met in New York, but even that doesn’t compare to how rich my life is now. As hard as things were for me growing up, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat if I knew I’d end up exactly where I am today. I take back everything I said at the beginning of my story. I’m not cursed at all. I’m lucky, I’m blessed, I’m wanted, and I’m loved.

  Love is like water,

  you can fill up on it,

  you can drown in it,

  but most importantly,

  you cannot live without it.

  Also by Australia’s favourite new romance writer, J.L. Perry

  My name is Jaxson Albright. To my friends I’m known as Jax. I’m the disgraced son of well-known politician Malcom Albright. You could say I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was supposed to follow in my father’s footsteps and move into politics. My whole childhood was spent being groomed for this role, but that wasn’t what I wanted. I had other plans.

  To my family’s disgust, I’m inked, I’m pierced and I own and run a tattoo parlour in Newtown, in Sydney. I fit in here. I can be the man I was destined to be, the man my family are ashamed of. The son they regret having.

  I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for my saviour, Candice. My pink-haired angel. We grew up in the same circle, but like me, she’s an outcast. She refused to conform to society’s ways. She’s the only one who stuck by me and not only encouraged, but supported my dream.

  I love her. No, correction—I’m in love with her. I have been for as long as I can remember. She has no idea how I feel. It’s a battle I struggle with daily. I’ve kept my secret all these years because I couldn’t risk losing her. That’s a chance I’m not prepared to take, because she’s my best friend; my only
real family.

  I’ve spent the last few years pounding random hot chicks, trying to mask these feeling I have. But it doesn’t help—I can’t get her out of my head. She still owns my heart.

  How do you get over the girl you know you can never have? And how do you live without the one person on this earth who was made for you?

  She’s my soulmate.

  PROLOGUE

  The Past …

  JAX

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ my father snaps as I walk down the main staircase, heading for the front door.

  ‘Out.’ I’m nineteen and a legal adult. I don’t have to tell him jackshit.

  ‘Not dressed like that you aren’t.’

  Here we go a-fuckin-gain. Is this man ever going to let up? I’ve lived my entire life doing what he’s asked. I’m tired. I can’t be the person he wants me to be anymore, I just can’t. I’m not cut out to be a politician. That shit may be running through his veins, but it sure as hell ain’t running though mine.

  I scoop up my skateboard from beside the front door, tucking it under my arm. Out of the corner of my eye I see him storming towards me. I know exactly what he’s going to do, he’s done it a million times in the past. And that shit is getting old.

  ‘Get that fucking thing off your head!’ he screams, reaching for my baseball cap.

  I manoeuvre my head to the right and then back to the left, avoiding his attempts to snatch it.

  There’s a murderous glare in his eyes as he tries one last time. ‘You’re an Albright, not some common thug. I won’t have my son walking the streets dressed like that.’

  ‘It’s just a hat. Get the fuck over it.’ I’ve never spoken to him like that before, I’ve always managed to bite my tongue. When I reach for the door handle, he roughly latches onto my arm, tugging me backwards.