Give Me War

by Kate McCarthy

  After a moment, I turn my head. Casey’s opted for wetsuit shorts today, his bare chest tanned, evidence of time spent surfing in the sun. His hair is wet, drops of water cling to his face and shoulders. The man is too beautiful to be real. I give him a nod, moving past the usual moment of breathlessness. “Hotdog.”

  He nods back. “Sandwich.”

  I trail my fingers through the chilly water, trying to appear offhand. “I heard something on the grapevine the other day.”

  Casey snorts and tips his head back, glancing at the sky. “Did you now?”

  His response indicates he knows the subject matter I’m referring to.

  “Ace and Kelly got engaged.”

  “That’s old news.”

  I flick water at him. He flicks it back. I wipe my face. “I’m getting to the point.”

  He tips his chin at a set of waves rolling in. “Better hurry. I’ve got to head in soon.”

  “I heard you’re going to be in the wedding party. A groomsman.”

  Casey grins. Dimples pop. Lord. “Yeah,” he says, sounding content. Too happy to keep me hanging on his reply. “You heard right.”

  My heart warms and the salty morning air inflates my lungs. I let it out with a deep sigh. The news is big. Huge. “I’m happy for you.”

  “There’s something else,” he adds, a little furrow forming in his brow.

  “What?”

  “He asked Mitch too.”

  My stomach dips and my head turns sharply, giving Casey my full attention. “He asked Mitch?”

  “Yeah.”

  I press my lips together. They became close when Ace got caught up in the Marchetti’s web of bullshit. Kelly and Mitch banded together. It’s an odd friendship. A biker and a cop. But Mitchell Valentine, my brother-in-law, walks a thin line these days. Don’t get me wrong, he fights for good, but his fights these days are dirty. It scares me. It scares us all. “And?”

  Casey shrugs. “I don’t know. Is he coming to Christmas lunch tomorrow?”

  I shrug back. “I don’t know, but I hope so.”

  “There is something I do know.”

  “What?”

  He checks his waterproof watch before mumbling something beneath his breath. “Gotta go.” Casey turns and starts paddling for the wave, but not before his eyes drop to my belly and back up again. So quick I almost missed it. My eyes narrow. There’s no way he could know.

  “Casey!” The wave rolls passed me and the man disappears from my view, laughter trailing out behind him. “Dammit, Casey!”

  I catch the wave behind him and when I reach the shore, he’s already jogging up the sandy beach, board beneath his armpit. I grab mine and chase him down, falling into step at his side, trying to hide the fact that I’m gasping for air. I’m so unfit right now. “What the hell was that?” I wheeze.

  “I’m just waiting for you to share the news, Evie.”

  How does he know? “How do you know?”

  He shrugs and grins. “I’m Casey.”

  Panic climbs my throat at the thought of my surprise being ruined. “Jared doesn’t know.”

  The man laughs in my face. “Neither did I. I was just throwing that out there.” His expression gentles as we reach the outdoor showers. “I was only guessing. I won’t tell.”

  “Thanks.” We set our boards aside and rinse the salty water off. “It’s part of my Christmas gift to him and I want it to be a surprise.”

  After rinsing off, we return to our cars. Casey towels off and climbs in, shutting his door. The window comes down and he looks at me before reversing out. “Hey.” He tips his chin for me to come over.

  Draping my towel around my neck, I reach his car door and duck down, resting my forearms on the open window, my brows rising in question.

  “It’s an awesome gift, Kook. You did good. Congratulations.”

  Casey reverses out and I yell after him. “I’m not a Kook anymore!”

  He laughs again and drives away.

  My eyes follow his car until it disappears, thinking on the torment I saw in his eyes. It was there, just for a brief moment, deep and horribly sad, before it was gone, wiped away like it was just that easy. Casey’s holding back from growing a family with Grace. The demons from his past still haunt him. His only father was a horrible role model and as if those tendencies are genetic, Casey thinks he’s going to fuck it up. What he seems to forget is that he has Grace at his side, and all of us. It takes a fucking village, something he never had growing up.

  I’m making a mental note to pull him aside at lunch tomorrow for a proper chat when my phone rings from inside the Hilux. Unlocking the car, I reach inside and grab it, swiping the screen to answer. “Macface.”

  “Sandwich.”

  “Why are you ringing so early?”

  “Jared said you were out for a surf but you were planning on shopping later this morning. I’m coming.”

  “Yes! Please. I still haven’t bought him a gift yet. You can help me.”

  “Bitch, I have no clue. He’s your husband.”

  “He’s your brother!”

  “You live with him. Besides, I don’t know what to get Jake.”

  I swipe the towel over my face before I toss it in the back seat. “We suck.”

  “Speak for yourself. I thought your gift to Jared was the baby news.”

  A loud gasp leaves my mouth. “You know?”

  “You mean how you couldn’t quite get that button done up on your favourite skinny jeans the other day? Yes, I noticed.”

  Dammit. My nostrils flare. I wanted Jared to be the first to know. It’s his right. I’m fucking it all up by waiting this long to make it his Christmas gift. Me and my shitty ideas. “Jared doesn’t know.”

  “I won’t tell him.”

  The roar of motorcycle engines cut through our conversation, the noise blasting my eardrums. I turn my head. Two Harleys are pulling in beside me. One rider on the closest one. Two on the other. They roll to a stop in the park next to mine when there’s a whole parking lot free for their use. “I’ll message you when I get home and we can arrange a time and place to meet!” I shout into the phone.

  “What?”

  “I’ll call you when I get home!” I yell louder.

  “What?”

  “Ugh.” I hang up, and I’m texting her the same message, hitting send when the man beside me climbs off his bike, all faded black jeans, torn at the knees and thin white shirt covering a multitude of muscle and ink. He tugs off his helmet, leaving a halo of rumpled black hair.

  He turns and I stumble backward, almost hitting the Hilux. “Renny.”

  His grin is lazy, those dark eyes of his older, more knowing, as they travel down the length of me and back up again. He seems unsurprised to see me but there’s no time to ponder the anomaly.

  He speaks in gruff voice. “Evie, babe.”

  My hackles rise. I can hold a grudge for eternity and considering the last I saw of Wild Renny was his back when he left me for dead, that grudge throbs anew, flaying open old wounds. If Henry clapped eyes on this man right now, there would be no holding him back. Henry was the one who picked up the pieces after my ex biker boyfriend walked away.

  My eyes flatten on his, as cold and icy as the arctic. “I’m not your babe. Don’t ever call me that.”

  His tone is low and measured, something I always liked about him. He never talked shit. Only speaking if there was something worth saying, and those around him would always pay attention. “Still sassy.” Something he always liked about me. I know because he told me.

  “Is you being here some kind of weird coincidence, or did you look me up so you could shoot the shit about old times? Like how your bike went off the road that one time and you almost killed the both of us? Or the fact that you waltzed out of that hospital like I was nothing to you?”

  Renny shrugs, folding tattooed arms and turning his head out to the ocean while his friends remain on the other bike, seemingly content to just sit there. “Pissed about
that, huh?”

  “Pissed?” My brows almost fly off my face. “Pissed?”

  His eyes find mine, dark and cold. “I was over the limit, Evie babe. They woulda put me in jail.”

  “I wish they had,” I hiss.

  He shrugs like it’s all in the past and doesn’t matter anymore.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here for you.”

  “What do you mean, here for me?” My eyes shift to his bike. The black paint work gleams in the early morning sun, but it’s the snake adorning the side that makes the breath catch in my throat. The Black Vipers. The biggest, baddest biker gang in the country. Panic begins to creep in. My eyes shift back to his, confused. I mean Renny was an asshole, but this? The Vipers? This isn’t him. He doesn’t belong with those treacherous, blood-thirsty bastards. “Renny? What are you—”

  “I’m sorry, Evie.” He unfolds his arms and starts toward me, determination darkening his eyes. “But you’re coming with me.”

  2

  JARED

  Daddy, more!” Wolf demands from his seat at the dining table, having chewed through his chocolate pancake.

  I jolt, disturbed from my blank stare out the kitchen window. Giving my son a smile, I pour batter into the pan while Wolf squeezes maple syrup all over his empty plate. My gaze returns to the window while it cooks, my vision blurring.

  I love Evie. Down to the bone. She belongs with me. But I’m losing her and I don’t know how to fix it. In the beginning, the distance between us was so slight it was easily dismissible. We’re busy. We both work. We have a kid. A big extended family. Life gets in the way. But each month the disappointment in her eyes would get a little deeper, and the frustration inside me would rise. It expands even now, inside my chest. I want to click my fingers and magically give her what we both want but I can’t. How do I tell her how shit I feel, when I know she’s feeling even shittier? How do I tell her how inadequate I feel, when she’s probably feeling even more so?

  When we married, I promised her the world. I promised her I’d give her everything. How do I live with the knowledge that I’ve failed her in this?

  “Daddy, where’s my pancake?”

  I jolt again and flip it quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I got you, bud. It’s coming.”

  Walking over to the table, I grab the syrup-laden plate and bring it back with me. After flipping the pancake on it, I cut it into bite-sized pieces and place it in front of Wolf.

  “You aren’t havin’ some?” he asks when I take the seat opposite him, setting down my mug of coffee.

  “Maybe later, little Wolf.”

  He kicks his legs as he eats and speaks with a mouthful of food. “How many sleeps now ‘til Santa?”

  “Just one.”

  “How does he get inside?” Wolf looks worried, his little brows pulling down as he studies the lower floor of our house. “We don’t got a chimney.”

  “He uses magic.”

  Wolf takes another bite of pancake while he contemplates this phenomenon, syrup dripping down on to his little cop uniform. “He can’t come in with no warrant.”

  I crack a smile at that. The kid is a true Valentine, alright. “Bud, a warrant would be for him to come inside and legally search our house.”

  Wolf ignores me and abandons the table. A kid on a mission. He makes for the living room where all his drawing paper and coloured marker pens scatter the floor from yesterday. Adjusting his police badge with care, he drops to the floor and grabs a fresh white sheet. “Imma write one.”

  Three hours later, we’ve cleaned the kitchen, pinned Santa’s ‘warrant’ to the front door, taken our little dachshund, Peter, for a walk, and wrapped presents. I assumed Evie was coming home after her surf before shopping, but maybe she’s hitting up the Westfield at Bondi Junction on her way back to save time.

  It niggles at me. That she hasn’t checked in.

  I swipe at the screen of my phone while Wolf sits in front of the television watching his favourite movie, Tangled, with a sandwich and juice. He’s obsessed with Flynn Rider, his facial expressions morphing as he attempts to match Flynn’s smoulder, his green eyes intense beneath dark, thick lashes. God help all you future women of Sydney and beyond. Wolf Valentine is already learning how to lure you in.

  Returning to my screen, I consider tracking Evie’s phone. My thumb hovers over the button. It’s not something I usually do, but that niggle is something I’ve learnt to never ignore. Not when it comes to my wife or her reckless posse of friends.

  A loud knock comes at the door.

  Wolf gasps, abandoning his smoulder to eyeball the entryway. “Is that Santa?” he yells. “You’re early!”

  I pocket my phone and head for the door, trying to ignore the niggle. I’m on edge because of this morning. Because she couldn’t seem to hurry out the door fast enough. My stomach sinks as I swing the door wide.

  Mitch stands on the other side, surprising me.

  “Uncle Mitch!” Wolf’s voice is a shriek as he comes barrelling toward us. A Mitch visit is rare. My eldest brother is not the type of person to just drop in unannounced. At least, not anymore.

  Wolf slams into his legs and Mitch stumbles backward.

  Being a high-ranking member of the Australian Federal Police, Mitch is my son’s idol. His arms come around Wolf’s little shoulders and he squeezes him close. “How’s my newest recruit? Ready to report for duty?”

  “Yes, sir!” Wolf shouts, squeezing him even harder.

  My lips press tight, holding back a solid wave of emotion. “You want to come in?”

  Mitch nods, and when my boy finally releases him, he picks up a giant box he must have set down by the door, and follows us inside. “Saw your warrant, rookie.” He sets the box down by the tree, saying, “Nice work.” He offers a fist and Wolf bumps it with his own, chuffed at the term ‘rookie.’ “When are you going to come work for me?”

  Wolf takes on a serious expression, his little brows pulling down. “I just gots to finish Tangled first.”

  Mitch laughs. He actually laughs. Something he hardly ever does. The kid brings it out in him.

  “Coffee?” I ask while Wolf sits back in front of the tv and picks up a cut quarter of his abandoned sandwich.

  My brother nods and follows me to the kitchen, looking around. “Evie here?”

  “She’s out shopping, I think.”

  His brow arches. “You think?”

  My wife is out shopping because she needs space. From me. The ache of it makes my voice sharp. “Well I don’t keep her on a leash.”

  Mitch snorts. “Sure you don’t.”

  Maybe I’m a little overprotective, but dammit, who wouldn’t be? Even after all these years I’m still scared of losing her. I still see her bleeding out on the floor, my heart bleeding out right alongside her, but I can’t say that to my brother. Because what I almost lost, Mitch did lose.

  Instead of voicing my fears, I flick the button on the kettle and it begins to boil. My third cup of the day. I’ll get jittery if I have another, and yet I already feel jittery.

  “What’s in the box?” I ask, steering the conversation elsewhere.

  “Everyone’s Christmas presents.”

  “You could’ve just brought them tomorrow.”

  His jaw tightens. “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

  I glare, already knowing the answer before I ask the question. “Why not?”

  Mitch drops his gaze before his eyes shift to the French doors and the backyard beyond. “You know why.” His gaze returns to mine. “What’s with the subject change?”

  “Notice that, huh?”

  “I don’t miss much. Things between you and Evie aren’t good.”

  It’s a statement, not a question.

  I give him my back as I pull coffee mugs down from the cupboard above. “Evie wants more kids. A big family. I can’t seem to give that to her.” I set the mugs on the counter and grip its edge tight, ducking my head, my chest aching with
a dull thud. “I want to give her everything and I fucking can’t.”

  My brother’s voice is a whip. “Are you kidding me?”

  I push away from the counter and look at Mitch.

  He waves his arms around, angry. “You already have everything!”

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “You have her and you have Wolf. Isn’t that enough? Some people don’t even have that!”

  “Mitch—”

  “No. Fuck you, Jared.” He jabs his finger at me, fury burning like a brush fire in his eyes. “You don’t get to speak. Your life has meaning. Purpose. You might have almost lost it all, but you didn’t. And you need to start living with the knowledge that you’re a good husband, and a good father, and that that is enough! That’s all you need.”

  I rub at the ache in my chest. “You’re right. I know you are.” I pause and take a breath. “But I feel like I’m spending my days trying to pretend everything is fine. That she’s not looking at me with disappointment in her eyes. How do I fix it?”

  “There’s nothing to fix. She’s not disappointed with you. She’s just disappointed, you fucking asshole. You need to get out of your own head and talk to her.” Mitch shakes his head like I’m the biggest dipshit alive. “Did you even consider that all she needs from you is to know she’s loved, no matter what? That you’ll fuck her with the sole purpose of giving her pleasure rather than it having to be something more? Instead, she just feels you pulling away and she’s probably doing the same to protect herself.”

  “Mitch.” I swallow, my vision blurring. Is it really that simple? I turn away, going back to the coffee. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me, little brother. Just don’t fuck it up.” Not like I did, he says in his own head. I know, because when I turn to look at him, I see it in his eyes.

  Coffee made, I hand his over with a heavy heart. We’re both taking a sip of the hot liquid when my phone beeps.