Mark pulled up outside his large man cave.
“Get out,” Mark ordered.
Alyse lunged for the handle and her hands shook in her urgency. She slammed the door behind her and Mark drove into the shed. No point waiting here. He might be five minutes or five hours. Instead she jogged back to the farmhouse, the dirt hard against her bare feet. She’d have to fetch her boots from Marine Rescue in the morning. Now though, if she was quick, she could shower before Mark returned. The lock on the bathroom door did little to keep him out and she daren’t put anything stronger on it. It would only infuriate him.
She hurried inside, dumping Kim’s jacket on her bed.
In the distance, the ute roared to life. She grabbed her warmest jumper, some tracksuit pants and thick socks, and locked herself into the bathroom. Mark slammed through the back door of the house, calling her name, as she turned the shower on. She froze, staring at the door, expecting him to pound on it or force himself in. Steam wafted around the room and Mark’s footsteps stopped outside the bathroom. The door handle jiggled. Alyse held her breath.
A lengthy, raw curse and then the footsteps faded away. Mark would have time to stew. That wasn’t good.
Quickly she stripped off her clothes and stepped under the hot spray. She didn’t have long. Mark might come back. The heat stung her extremities, pain tingling her feet and hands. She soaped her body, cleaning and warming her skin. Ducking her head under the spray, she heated her cold, wet hair and then squeezed out the excess. Every part of her wanted to stay under the water, soak it in, let it warm her from the outside in, but she’d be so much more vulnerable naked and wet if Mark forced his way in.
He was already mad as hell.
With shaking hands, she shut off the taps and dried herself fast, the rough fabric reminding her she would have to ask Mark for money to buy new towels soon. Skin still damp, she struggled to dress, her clothes sticking where she hadn’t dried herself properly. With her jumper and pants on, she let out a breath and allowed herself a second to dry her feet and tie her hair in a towel turban. Then she slid on her warm socks and cautiously opened the door.
Wind whipped around the outside of the house, making whistling noises through decade-old gaps, but no sound came from the television, or from the kitchen or from anywhere.
Where was he?
Should she act normally, pretend she had nothing to fear, that she’d done nothing wrong? Damn it, she had done nothing wrong! Mark knew she was terrified of boats. She crept down the hallway towards the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. The shower had warmed her a bit, but her insides were cold. A hot drink would help. Kim had been concerned about hypothermia.
She sighed and closed her eyes. Kim.
She’d forgotten how easy it was to talk to him. She’d instantly felt safe next to him, had hoped things would be all right. Of all the people she’d pushed away when she’d first met Mark, Kim was the one she’d missed the most. Her other childhood friends had expected her to be more girly, had liked to play with makeup and hair and talk about boys. From the age of fifteen, she’d known she wanted to work on her parents’ apiary. She loved working with the bees and the ag college had allowed her to specialise in beekeeping. Her friends hadn’t understood why she didn’t want to leave Blackbridge as soon as she was old enough.
Maybe that was why Mark had been able to separate her from them so easily. They’d been going in different directions anyway. And Mark had encouraged her passion for bees, had wanted her to stay in Blackbridge with him. He’d been the attractive, successful older man. People had talked about him playing professional football, there’d been scouts from the state league watching his games.
She walked into the empty kitchen. Moving fast, she filled the kettle and switched it on. As she retrieved a mug from the cupboard, movement in her peripheral vision made her spin around. Mark blocked the doorway, his face a thundercloud.
Her hand tightened around the mug. It was a crappy weapon, but the solid feel of it gave her some measure of comfort. She didn’t speak. This quiet, cold Mark was terrifying. Mark’s temper was usually quick to flare and when it did, she’d get new bruises for whatever she’d done wrong. But sometimes, when she hadn’t been within easy reach, he would stew over it, let it fester and boil until she was there, and then there was no telling what he would do.
Nausea welled in her stomach and she shifted back to the kettle, flicked the button off so it stopped boiling.
She bit her bottom lip, waiting for him to speak. He didn’t move from the doorway, the only exit from the room.
Her heart thumped in her chest, hard and fast, and her skin prickled. Her body flushed with fear.
She flinched as he spoke. “Make me a coffee.”
She hesitated, remembering the sharp sting and the blisters when he’d flung boiling water at her before. She had little choice, so flicked on the kettle, then turned to retrieve another mug from the cupboard.
In an instant he was across the room, twisting her around, pressing himself into her, pushing her back against the kitchen bench so hard she winced. “What the fuck were you doing?” His voice was a low growl.
“Wh…what?” She kept her eyes down, watching him in her peripheral vision, preparing for the first strike.
“You contacted Marine Rescue. They don’t just go out waiting to rescue someone.”
“Mark, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He held up her phone. “Shall I show you the last text you sent?”
Sweat trickled down her back. Confession was her only option and hope he’d forgive her. “I’m sorry! I was so scared. The boat wouldn’t start and we were stuck out there—”
His backhand snapped her head back and stole her words. Pain stung her cheek and she clenched her teeth to stop from crying out.
“We had cargo on board,” he snarled. “If they’d seen it, recognised what it was…”
Tears blurred her vision. “I don’t even know what it was,” she said. “Just a heavy black box. You covered it with a tarp. It could have fish inside for all they knew.” Her words came in a rush.
“I told you I’d fix the engine.”
“Mark, I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” she begged, hating herself for it. “My fear stopped me from thinking. You know I hate boats.”
“So this is my fault?”
Yes. “No! Of course not. I’m weak, I’m soft. I was just so scared…”
He leaned closer, rubbed himself against her.
Bile rose in her throat.
“Are you fucking him?”
Alyse blinked, confusion filling her. “Who?”
“That guy you were all over in the Marine Rescue boat. He used to sniff around you all the time.”
Kim. “No. That’s the first time I’ve spoken to him in years.”
“You don’t need words to fuck.”
She shook her head. “Mark, I only see Kim when I watch you play football and you’re playing his team. There’s nothing between us.”
“I saw him squeezing out your clothes. Did you strip for him?” He slid his hand down the side of her leg, his fingers rough.
She tried not to show her revulsion. “No. I was freezing. He wrapped me in blankets and treated me like a patient.”
“I wanted to rip his hands off. No one gets to touch you but me.”
And thankfully he hadn’t touched her since she’d caught him having an affair. “Of course.” She kept hoping Mark would leave her for Yvette—not that she would wish Mark on another woman—but the apiary was too valuable to him.
“I don’t want you seeing him again. I’d hate for his family restaurant to run into trouble.”
Fear for Kim and his family ran through her veins. “I won’t. I don’t even like him,” she lied.
“You’re mine.” He pressed his lips against hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and she fought the urge to gag. His breath was stale, like he hadn’t cleaned his teeth in days. She kissed him back,
knowing if she didn’t respond it would incense him further.
What would he do to the On family? Kim’s father owned the local Vietnamese restaurant and his mother was a lawyer. He could burn their premises like Mai’s bakery had been torched at the beginning of the year. Alyse couldn’t let that happen. The one flicker of hope of rekindling her friendship with Kim died.
Someone pounded on the front door and Mark stepped back, breaking the kiss. He swore. “Get that. It’s probably Craig.”
She hurried away, waiting until she left the kitchen before she wiped her mouth, trying to erase the taste of Mark from her lips. Was the kiss a show of dominance, or would he force her back into his bed? The last couple of months while he’d been having an affair had been bliss, even if she’d had to listen to them in the next room. Mark thought it a way of punishing her and Yvette hadn’t known she was there, but Alyse was grateful it wasn’t her in the master bedroom. Even during the first three years with Mark, before her parents had died, when Mark had wooed her, he had been a selfish lover.
She removed the towel from her head and ran a hand through her still damp hair, pushing it off her face, and opened the door. She gasped. Kim.
He handed her a paper bag. “Chicken pho as ordered.” His smile faded as he studied her face. “How are you?”
She clutched the bag. She’d forgotten his promise to send food. It smelled incredible, the scent of herbs tickling her nose. She glanced over her shoulder. “Fine. Thank you.”
“That’s a new bruise.”
Kim reached out to brush her cheek, and she stepped out of reach. If Mark saw, he’d be furious. “I must have bumped something on the boat.”
He stared at her. “Bullshit.” He searched for Mark behind her. “Come with me now,” he whispered.
Her heart clenched. If only it was that simple.
“I’ll keep you safe.” He reached for her hand. “I’ll take care of you.”
She stepped back, fear striking her. Mark used to say that, used to murmur it to her while she cried over her parents. She reached for the door. “Thank you for the soup.” Behind her, Mark’s footsteps clomped down the hallway. Shit.
“What the fuck is he doing here?”
Alyse winced. “He brought me soup.”
“Why?” Mark pushed in front of her so he was blocking the door. He was taller and broader than Kim’s athletic leanness. She shifted to the side so she could see past Mark.
“Chicken soup is my father’s remedy for everything.” Kim smiled. “I figured after Alyse’s ordeal, she could do with some.” Though his tone was light, friendly even, his steely gaze didn’t waver from Mark.
“What ordeal? We broke down is all.”
“If that’s all you think it was, you’re more stupid than I thought.”
Alyse held her breath. Kim was the stupid one to antagonise Mark. She brushed a hand along Mark’s arm, to distract him. “Why don’t we eat this before it gets cold?” She forced a smile and didn’t look at Kim. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”
“You go. I have words to say to him.”
Alyse’s eyes widened and she mentally told Kim to leave, but his hands were in his pockets, feet apart, defiance in every pore. How fast could an ambulance get here? Maybe she should call it now.
“Go!” Mark shouted.
Alyse flinched. She didn’t dare say anything to Kim as she returned to the kitchen. She placed the soup on the table then picked up her phone which Mark had left on the bench. She couldn’t hear what Mark said, but his tone was pure threat. Her fingers squeezed around the phone as she got bowls out and strained to hear the sounds of a fight.
The door slammed and she jumped, her hands shaking as she poured the pho into two bowls.
“He shouldn’t bother you again.” Mark grabbed both bowls of soup and tipped their contents down the sink. He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.
“Thank you.”
He grunted. “Make me some dinner.”
“Of course.” Alyse opened the fridge and then she heard the sound she’d been listening for. A car engine. It meant Kim wasn’t lying unconscious on the front step.
She sighed.
He was safe for the moment.
***
Kim breathed slowly as he sat in his car, trying to rein in his temper. His skin was so tight it felt like it would split and his heart pounded. He’d never wanted to hit a man until today, but violence would only make Alyse fear him. Perhaps he was foolish to antagonise Mark, but the words had come out before he could think. Would Mark take his anger out on Alyse?
He wanted to be sick.
He wanted to storm in there and drag Alyse away with him.
Mark had told him to stay away, said Alyse was mentally unstable and seeing him brought up horrific memories of her parents’ death. He’d said if Kim cared for Alyse, he’d stay away, give her time to recover. Mark had said something similar three years ago after Alyse’s parents had died. Kim had believed him then.
No longer. Mark wasn’t chasing him away this time.
His hand still trembled with rage as he flicked on the headlights and drove out of the property. His friend Jeremy lived only two houses down. He’d be good for a vent.
After pulling up in front of the wooden, custom-designed cottage Jeremy had built, Kim sat for a moment to control his anger. Alyse was scared. Somehow Mark had her trapped. The Alyse he’d known as a teenager wouldn’t have put up with the way Mark treated her. She would have kicked him out a long time ago. So why was he still there?
Jeremy appeared at the entrance to the shed he was rebuilding and lifted a hand in a wave. Kim wandered over to him. “Sorry for just dropping in.”
“No problem.” Jeremy moved towards the house. “What’s up? I can practically see smoke coming out of your ears.”
“Alyse.”
“Wilson?” Jeremy glanced at him. “Has Mark hit her again?”
Kim nodded. The whole town knew about the abuse. Surely Alyse realised she’d have support if she wanted to leave Mark. “Mark took her out in his dinghy this afternoon.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened. “In this weather?”
“Yeah. And she’s petrified of boats.” He followed Jeremy into the open-plan living area and slumped onto one of the stools next to the kitchen bench. “The dinghy broke down and she contacted Marine Rescue. She was absolutely terrified when we picked her up.”
Jeremy fetched two beers from the fridge. In case he didn’t know the story, Kim said, “She was in a boating incident with her parents when she was twenty-one. Her parents drowned. As far as I know, this is the first time she’s been out on a boat since then.”
Jeremy swore. “Mark’s such a prick. I hope the police can pin something on him.”
Kim frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you hear? Mark was messed up in the stuff involving Morgan and the stolen cars last week. He followed Elijah a couple of times to scare him.”
Hope made Kim perk up. “Can they arrest him?”
“Not until they get some kind of firm evidence.”
“What do they need?” Maybe he could convince Alyse to turn Mark in. She had to know something. She’d been living with him for almost three years.
Jeremy shrugged. “We should ask Adam.” He handed Kim a beer. “Is Alyse a friend of yours?”
He snorted. “She was. Kind of. In high school. Before Mark.”
“And you still like her.”
“She should be with someone who treats her better.”
“Someone like you?” Jeremy smiled. “I’m all for it,” he said. “Zamira met her and was worried. When she moves in, she’s making it her mission to help Alyse, and I don’t want her to get hurt. If I can help you get rid of Mark, I will.”
Kim smiled for the first time since seeing Alyse. “Thanks, mate.”
“We might need backup.” Jeremy grabbed his phone and called someone. “Hey. Kim’s here. Want to bring out some pizza and tell us what you kno
w about Mark Patton?” A pause. “Bring Elijah and Adam.” Another pause. “Great. See you when you get here.” He hung up. “Jamie’s on his way.”
Kim sipped his beer, the tension seeping out of his muscles. One way or another, he would help Alyse.
Half an hour later Kim’s other friends arrived. Adam was a police constable and Jamie and Elijah both volunteered for the State Emergency Services. They’d removed a tree branch from Alyse’s roof during a storm recently and had seen Mark hit her.
Jamie carried in four pizza boxes and plonked them on the kitchen table. “Dinner is served.”
Kim greeted them and moved over to the table while Jeremy handed them each a beer.
“So what gives?” Elijah asked, hugging Kim.
“I just rescued Alyse Wilson out on the ocean,” Kim said.
“In this weather?” Adam asked.
Jamie frowned. “I heard she’s frightened of boats after what happened to her parents.”
“She is. Mark forced her to go.”
Adam sat next to him. “What were they doing out there?”
Kim shook his head. “No idea.” Though there had to be a reason. He hadn’t thought about it, too concerned about Alyse, but now he did… “They didn’t have any fishing gear.”
“They’d be stupid to fish in this weather.” Jeremy handed out plates and opened the pizza boxes.
“What did they have?” Adam’s tone was casual, but his body tensed. This was police-mode Adam.
Kim visualised the boat. “They had a black crate on board,” he said. “Mark tossed a tarp over it as we approached. Whatever was in it was heavy because the boat sat low in the water.”
“What time did Alyse call?” Adam asked.
“About four.”
“Where were they?”
“Off Southpoint boat ramp.”
Adam pushed back his seat. “I’ll be back in a second.”
Kim exchanged a glance with the others as Adam walked outside. Adam walked past the window with his phone to his ear.
Harbour Page 3
