Taken Outback (The Dusty Rider Series Book 1)

by Stella Knights

  We walk towards Beth and I hear Tom say that we are tired and are going home.

  Beth looks disappointed. “Are you sure you must go? The night is only getting started.”

  Tom looks back at me as though he’s struggling between choosing the right thing to do in this situation.

  How could he even consider staying here with her over taking me home?

  Standing with my back to Beth, I give Tom the evil eye.

  He says, “Yeah, I’m tired and don’t feel so well.”

  She reaches her hand out to stroke her claw-like fingers on his back, as she leans in to air kiss him. “Goodbye, darling.” She looks over at me and frowns. “See you sometime, Holly.”

  I’m too angry at Tom to care about Beth’s loathsome attitude. I turn, roll my eyes and walk away. My head is heavy with the realisation that I do not know this man I am married to anymore.

  Each step he takes up the corporate ladder is a step further away from me.

  My heart aches from the distance growing between us.

  ANGER IS COURSING through my veins as I walk back to our hotel. I know better than to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing out of anger. Though, I could easily let hell loose with words right now.

  With each step I take, I silently question everything about Tom. I hate this man right now because something I cannot condone is a drug habit.

  Of all things, drugs. He never strayed onto this path before. How long has he been doing this?

  I hear him pleading as he walks behind me. “Holly, it was only to help with getting through my work.”

  I do not answer.

  “Stop for a moment and listen to me.”

  I do not answer, nor do I stop. I walk closer and closer to the hotel, heels clicking against the ground hard with my blind rage propelling me forward.

  At the elevator, I try to get the doors to shut without letting Tom in with me. I repeatedly jab the buttons, hoping like hell that the more I punch it, the quicker the doors will close. I hear Tom getting closer as my efforts pay off. I watch the doors slam across his face. Now, if they could have only hurt you like you have just hurt me.

  I get into our room, lock myself in the bathroom and slump to the floor as tears fall down my face. A few minutes later, I hear Tom on the other side of the door.

  “Please come out and talk to me, Holly.”

  “No. I’m too angry to talk.” I wipe my tear-stained face as I pick myself up off the tiled floor. I walk towards the mirror and lean against the sink. Staring at my reflection, I wonder how this could be my life.

  Where did my dreams go? I’ve given it all up for Tom. And for what?

  “Please, Holly.”

  I turn around and speak soberly through the door. “Tom, I’m going to take a shower and then go to sleep. You have the couch. Don’t try to talk to me any more tonight.”

  I never thought Tom could break me like this. Everything we have built is crumbling down.

  What am I supposed to do now?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MY SILENT TREATMENT towards Tom lasts through the remainder of our weekend away. I cannot speak to him or have him near me because I’m too disgusted with the man he has become.

  Once home, I continue to avoid being in the same room as him, including trying to fall asleep on the couch instead of our bed. As I drift to sleep, Tom walks over and sits on the coffee table, blocking my view of the movie I’m watching.

  He places his elbows on his knees and leans down close to me.

  I do not move from my position on the couch, nor do I look at him.

  “Holly, you must talk to me.”

  I continue to stare past him as I roll onto my back and look at the ceiling.

  “Please, just talk to me. This really isn’t a big deal and I don’t understand why you think it is.”

  My lips purse as I continue to stare above me, focusing on a crack I never noticed before.

  He tries to get my attention by tracing a line around my arm with his fingertips. I recoil, shifting away from his touch.

  “I think you are acting a little ridiculous. I only did it a couple times to help me get through the crazy hours at work.” Tom sits taller and runs his hand through his hair as he grows increasingly frustrated at my silent treatment towards him. “You know it’s no different than when we took E’s that time at the Big Day Out while we were at university.”

  My jaw clenches at his suggestion that taking drugs once at a music festival compares to this current situation. I refuse to engage in any banter and instead scream at him inside my head, ‘Of course it’s different, you fool! We have responsibilities, bills to pay and that sort of behaviour can risk everything. Not to mention, I’m a Parole Officer.’

  He sighs in frustration. “I think you need to grow up, Holly. Get over yourself and get off your fucking high horse.”

  Ha! Me? I’m the one needing to grow up? Get real, Tom!

  Growing weary of me ignoring him, he stands up and goes to our bedroom. I hear him grunt in frustration as he slams the door shut.

  Lying there, staring at that crack in the ceiling, I contemplate what options I have. The fury is morphing into feelings of depression and hopelessness as I face my reality. Tom is more in love with the idea of me being his wife, versus him actually being in love with me.

  Do I really want to give up on my marriage? No, I just want things to go back to the way they were. But how can I stay in a marriage with someone I do not trust?

  Questions and thoughts roll through my head over and over, drowning me in melancholy and I’m desperate for air. There is no relief in sight as the spark inside of me has all but flickered out. I’m a woman forced to go through the motions of a loveless marriage, taking it one day at a time, trying and hoping my husband does right by me and our marriage goes back to being okay somehow.

  Is that what all marriages go through? How long am I supposed to wait for things to change?

  MONDAY ROLLS AROUND and it’s another one of those mornings where I’m stuck driving behind a slow-moving cattle truck on my way to work. My normal ninety-minute drive becomes over two hours.

  I park my car and practically run into the office.

  Why must they make us use this public carpark that is so far from my office? Surely, they could have provided us parking closer to work.

  Out of breath, I push the door open to enter my office. Fortunately for me, my co-worker hands me a coffee she already has waiting.

  I sigh in relief as I take the coffee. “Thanks for that. I couldn’t believe how slow traffic was this morning. Friggin’ cattle truck held me up for ages.”

  One saving grace I have had since taking this regional job is my co-worker Lisa. She’s a complex, supportive, shoot from the hip kind of woman that has made me feel as though she would drop anything to make sure I’m all right. She has not had an easy life, but carries on full of hope for the future, still enjoying whatever carefree moment she can get. Best of all she can always tell me a story to pick me up when I’m feeling down.

  “Don’t forget we have an induction today,” Lisa says to me as she sips her own coffee.

  I roll my eyes. “Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot.”

  On Monday, we tend to have our busiest day. Offenders arrive from the surrounding areas to report in as part of their probation or parole orders. Being a city girl, once I started working here, I got a quick introduction to rural life in Australia.

  During my first few weeks, I was faced with daily problems like someone trying to deal with a failing property, not enough water and low crop yields. The learning curve was steep as I had no idea how tough farmers, truckers and anyone else related to the agricultural industry has it in Australia.

  Like most city people, I don’t think I ever gave the origin of food I ate on a daily basis much thought until I came out here. I had no idea what some go through to make sure my bread is nutritious, or my steak is perfect. The difficulties made me often question why farm
ers would even bother living out here in the bush doing what they do. It seemed like such hard, tireless work that didn’t always result in much.

  Taking another sip of coffee, I reach over and grab my files to check who I will be seeing in the reporting room today. So far, everything seems pretty standard and I have not received reports of any new breaches or incidents from the weekend.

  Thank goodness, as I do not think I could handle any more paperwork in my overflowing ‘To Do’ pile.

  All I can hope for is that there are no surprises coming at me today. Maybe I will get a chance to go home on time. Ha! Going home on time would be a dream Besides, do I even want to go home if Tom is there? A sigh escapes me and my heart aches from this thought.

  Lisa notices my despondent expression and flashes me one of her comforting smiles. “How was your sexy weekend away?”

  “A disaster. It started off great but then fell apart.”

  Her expression tenses as she hears my words. “What happened?”

  “Well, you know that snotty boss of Tom’s I told you about?” I take a moment to have another sip of warm coffee.

  “You mean Beth?”

  “Yeah, her.” I roll my eyes. “Well, she just happened to be at the coast.”

  Lisa raises her eyebrows in shock. “Did Tom know she was going to be there?”

  “He said he didn’t, but who knows. I can tell Beth is a bit overbearing and dominant so maybe it’s her little game.”

  But what game is Tom playing? Whatever it is I’m tired of it.

  “So, where did you see her?”

  “We ran into her at the Eumundi markets and then she asked to meet with us for drinks. I told Tom I didn’t want to go, but I got the same old song and dance from him about needing to impress her for whatever project or promotion or whatever at work.” My eyes roll again at how ridiculous this must sound.

  “And how’d it go?”

  “Not well. We didn’t stay long. I was left standing with her while Tom went to get drinks and then after a few minutes I went to look for him and it turns out he is up to no good.”

  “What?” Lisa’s jaw dropped.

  I shake my head. “Not what you are thinking, but more the substance kind of no good.”

  “Oh, God, honey.” She waves her hand in the air as if she was mentally smacking Tom in the face.

  “Yeah, it was totally out of the blue and not expected at all. He’s never been into anything other than drinking. He said a co-worker gave it to him to help him through all the hours he’d been doing.”

  “That is a tough one, hon. Did he forget that you work around people doing drugs so it’s not like he can pull the wool over your eyes?”

  “I don’t know what he’s thinking.” I reach up and rub my temples, “My head hurts trying to figure it out. I’m so tired. I’ve hardly slept since Saturday night. All I can say is that I’m turning the silent treatment into an art form right now.”

  “Oh girl, you’ll be fine. You’re tougher than you realise.”

  Just then, the buzzer rings, alerting us that an offender has come into the waiting room.

  I glance at Lisa as I push myself up to go let him in. “No rest for the wicked.” I go and escort the waiting offender into the interview room for his reporting appointment.

  THE MORNING FLIES by with interview after interview. No real breaks to catch my breath, which is probably good because it keeps me from thinking about the past weekend.

  Right before lunch, Lisa tells me I have a missed call from Tom.

  She gives me the message on paper and laughs as I dramatically tear it up and toss it into the trash bin next to me. “I do not care and I will not be returning that call.”

  “I guess I know how to respond next time he rings.”

  “You know I’m so tired of being second and then having to put up with behaviour that I don’t agree with because of his job or because he’s my husband. Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I have to be a glutton for punishment. It’s total bullshit!”

  “I so know, hon. That is why I’m already divorced. I never knew how much a piece of paper can change someone or make you feel trapped.” Lisa shakes her head.

  “I blame his damn obsession with what he thinks he must achieve in his career. It’s totally disproportionate to what I think. I guess he saw what I grew up with and thinks we have to achieve that same level of supposed success. What he fails to see is I don’t need all that to be happy.”

  Lisa’s laughing stops as she notices someone come into the waiting room on the security video. “Whoa…who’s this?” Lisa says suggestively as she narrows her gaze onto the screen.

  I look over her shoulder and see a tall guy with dark hair, incredibly built, wearing a tightly fitted T-shirt and jeans. “I guess it’s our induction?” I say, a little surprised because glancing at the clock, I realise this guy is on time. No one is ever on time for their appointments in this office. “He looks a lot different from the photos in his file.”

  “I guess this one’s been working out a lot while doing his time.” Lisa grins at me, then says, “Today might be interesting after all! What’d you say he did?”

  “He was caught dealing drugs. From the briefing, the officers said it was a decent sized operation. He got a six-year sentence, served three and made parole.”

  “Oh, why must the bad ones look so good?” Lisa continues staring at this Adonis on the other side of the camera.

  “I think it was designed that way,” I tease her back with a sly smile. “Lucky for me, I don’t have a penchant for bad boys like you.”

  “Are you sure about that? Sounds like Tom has become a bit of a bad boy lately.”

  “I’m not sure Tom could be a bad boy even if he tried. He may be a smug loser who clearly doesn’t realise how lucky he is to have me, but he isn’t a real bad boy.” I grin at Lisa as I go to escort this intriguing inductee into the interview room.

  As I’m about to launch into the usual greeting I give all my new parolees, I’m caught off guard by how striking this man is. It is as if the world stops for a moment while our eyes meet, and I am caught between two seconds of time.

  Gain your composure, Holly!

  My stomach flutters before I finally hear myself saying, “Hello, I’m Holly, the Senior Officer. Come in and take a seat...” I look deep into his steel blue eyes getting lost in their intensity as I speak. I realise I’ve stopped mid-sentence and cannot remember his name. My cheeks feel hot from awkwardness and I have to glance down at the file to confirm it is ‘Aiden’.

  What is happening to me today?

  “Hi, Holly,” Aiden says standing tall while staring into my eyes. His look is unnerving as if he can see my soul, sending a shiver through me from head to toe.

  There is something captivating about those eyes.

  He speaks with a husky voice as he sits. “Look, I know you must hear this often, but I want to do what it takes to get through this and put this mistake behind me. I’ve embarrassed my family enough and I need to make things right.” He speaks with confidence, yet there is no hint of the arrogance or cockiness that we usually get in this office.

  Who is this guy?

  Aiden is intriguing from the start and I am now wishing I read his file more carefully. I’m so used to how these young guns come in with so much bad boy attitude as if they have done nothing wrong, but something about Aiden is different.

  Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, I ignore the depth of those eyes and his rugged good looks. “Aiden, today I need to make sure you understand how the parole process works and also make sure you’re all sorted for where you are staying since you were just released this morning. I can arrange for any urgent support you may need financially or anything else to help you get settled.”

  He speaks again with unwavering confidence. “I’m good. I’m staying with my family on one of their properties out of town. There are no issues with my finances or anything else.”

  This is not t
he normal response we get from offenders just released. Normally, I spend a few hours arranging for emergency financial support and accommodation. For once my job seems easy, which is a rarity.

  “Well, if that’s all sorted then we need to go through the rules and your rights to make sure you understand everything about the parole process. Once this is done, we will schedule your next reporting visit.” I pause for a moment, continuing to stare at this man sitting before me. “At that visit, we will go through some assessment questions to work out what we can do to ensure you can put this all behind you. Okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine, but I promise you I don’t want to go backwards. No more get rich quick schemes for me,” he says, trying to make a joke and giving me a half grin.

  A joke?

  I’m not used to parolees cracking jokes on the first day, so I look at him with my head half-cocked, wondering if this guy has an angle.

  Most of our guys show a bit of nervousness, but making a joke this soon is unusual. They usually wait until they have worked out if I’m the “good cop” or “bad cop” style of managing their parole or probationary orders before testing the waters.

  I take a good look at him and get distracted by how his shirt, steel blue and matching his eyes, is tight in all the right places. The soft fabric hugs his pecs and biceps as he sits with them curled tight. I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat.

  What would it be like to run my hands along that chest and feel the strength in those arms?

  Interrupting my obsessive gaze on his chest, Aiden clears his throat to get my attention, and says with a knowing smile, “When do I need to come back?”

  Oh, God!

  He has caught me staring at his body, leaving me lost for words. I fumble around to get my appointment book in a failing attempt to cover up my lusting at his body. Pathetically, I have lost all sense of grace as I try to regain my composure. I have never been distracted by a parolee before. These boys do learn lots of tricks on the inside and we are trained not to trust anything they or say or do.