Young Enough (The Age Between Us Book 2)

by Charmaine Pauls

  “I could see he was thinking about it, but he didn’t want to bite. I gave him a photo of you and my email address, but not my name. I told him to think about it. A few days later, he contacted and threatened me. He’d figured out who I was.”

  “He threatened you?”

  He chuckles. “He said he’d cut off my fingers or something in that regard if I came near you.”

  That sounds like the possessive, protective Brian I’ve come to think of as mine. I reject the thought. I’m too raw to think about the future, yet, or where these facts leave us. I haven’t heard from Brian since the accident. I owe him an apology for not giving him the benefit of the doubt. I owe him that chance to talk about what has nearly destroyed me, but are his feelings even the same? Does he still love me? Did he ever love me? If he does, why hasn’t he come to see me in the hospital? Why hasn’t he called, even if just to ask how I was doing? I can’t bear to think of the answer. For now, I prefer to focus on the easier subject of logistics.

  “I haven’t told Francois about the camera,” I say. “You need to have it removed.”

  “That will be hard to do without explaining why my guy needs access to his house. On top of that, the alarm is back on. You don’t have to worry. I swear on Evan’s grave, I won’t access it.”

  “That’s not good enough.”

  He sighs. “Fine. I’ll find a way. My contact can say he’s from Rentokil, and that he’s checking for rats because the neighbors have an infestation.”

  “I want proof that it’s been removed.”

  “Stalking isn’t in my nature. I said I’ll have it taken out, and I will.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “All right, I deserve that.”

  “You have a week. I’ll inspect that hole personally, and if the camera is still there, I’m telling Francois.”

  It won’t be difficult to find a moment to check their bedroom when I drop off Abby. I can say I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be in and out of the room before they know it. I’ll have to be careful, though. Debbie asked me what I was looking for on the day I stormed into their house. I crossed my fingers behind my back and said I was checking if the maintenance guy had painted over the grid after fixing the air vent fan.

  “Fair enough,” he says after a short consideration.

  I have nothing left to say. “Goodbye, Benjamin.”

  I’m three steps away when he says to my back, “I’m sorry, Jane.”

  It’s late, but it’s something. If I can start working on this first step of forgiveness, maybe I’ll get there in the end. I don’t want a life of blame and vengeance. What I yearn for most is peace.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” he says, “I’ve been living with Evan’s death on my conscience for every minute of every day.”

  I glance at him from over my shoulder. “It doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “The guilt never eases. It’s only bearable when I pretend it’s not there.”

  I can’t tell Benjamin how to slay his ghosts. He’ll have to make his own peace.

  “What now, Jane?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said you won’t talk to the tabloids. Are you going to the police?”

  “No.”

  We all paid a terrible price for Benjamin’s sins. I’m not going to allow those sins to haunt me more than they already have. Besides, if I go to the police the news is bound to end up in the tabloids. It’s not what I want for Abby.

  “Then we’re done?” he asks, hopeful.

  I can’t look back at him. He’s already a part of my past. “I’m done.”

  When I walk through the door, it’s as if a weight lifts off my shoulders.

  Dorothy waits outside, looking pale.

  “Are you all right?” I ask.

  “I’m battling to digest the news. Oh, my God, I have another grandchild. Evan’s grandchild.”

  “I know. Abby loves you. She’ll be happy.” I’m happy.

  “This is the biggest gift. Oh, Jane, can you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  “If I hadn’t asked you to lie, you would’ve taken the paternity test sooner. We would’ve known this thirteen years ago.”

  “We know now. It’s enough.”

  We stop talking when Benjamin exits.

  “I’ll wait for you in the car,” he says to Dorothy.

  “He’s going back to Venice on Monday,” she says when he’s gone. “He cancelled the rest of his performances.”

  For the first time in my life, I don’t care where Benjamin will be. I’m no longer worried about running into him on the street or looking into a pair of black eyes that will force me to face the past.

  She holds me back before we reach the garden access. “What about you, Jane?”

  “What about me?”

  “When are you going to talk to Brian?”

  I can’t answer, because I don’t have the answer. How much time is enough?

  “He’s been at the hospital,” she says. “I saw him when I came back in the evening. The nurse said he’d been sitting in front of your door through the night. He still cares about you.”

  This is news to me, and I’m not immune to the hope it carries.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about him, but there are things you should know. If it’s any consolation, on the afternoon of the accident Brian was stuck in the Hartebeespoort Tunnel on the way to pick up Sam. He asked me to fetch her from her friend’s house so he could go back for you. When I ran into him in the hospital, he said he left his truck in the tunnel and paid some random biker ten grand to borrow his bike. He did everything in his power to get to you on time.”

  “Dorothy, please stop.”

  I don’t want to think about that afternoon, but she’s relentless.

  “He wouldn’t have left you like that if it weren’t for what happened to Sam.”

  “What happened to Sam? Was she all right?”

  “Some girls from school ruined her party clothes by dumping a bucket of paint over her. The clothes were unsalvageable, and the poor girl had to cut her hair. The hairdresser tried, but she couldn’t get the paint out.”

  “Oh, my God.” Poor Sam. “If I ever get my hands on those girls, they’ll be sorry they ever thought up the evil plan.”

  “Don’t worry.” She gives me her signature smile. “I suggested they all cut their hair to show Sam how sorry they are.”

  “Did they?”

  “The lot of them.”

  “You’re terrible.”

  “I’m happier.” Her expression turns serious. “I’m happier now that I have a part of Evan back.” She grabs my arm. “I want you to be happy, too. You deserve it more than anyone I know.”

  “I will be. I just need time.”

  “Speak to Brian,” she calls after me as I walk through the door. “He deserves another chance.”

  I drown out her words. I’m too focused on Abby’s tense face as she stands between Francois and Debbie. The locket catches the sun, reflecting the late afternoon rays. It’s then that I know what I have to do.

  The news hits me like a bulldozer. I feel sick. Dorothy regards me with sympathy from across the newspaper on my kitchen table. Just to punish myself, I read the announcement again. Brian and Lindy got engaged the day after I was discharged from the hospital. Forty-eight hours. That’s how long he waited, and that was after he promised me there was nothing between him and Lindy. I should’ve known better. Why would a young, drop-dead gorgeous, sex-savage guy be single? Why would Brian be interested in someone old enough to be his mother? Of course, he had a young and pretty girlfriend. You don’t simply get engaged from one day to the next. Despite my humiliation and self-directed anger, I feel genuinely sorry for Lindy. No wonder she projected invisible daggers at me at Eugene’s birthday party. Humiliation and anger I can deal with. The devastation I push onto the backburner. I have no right to feel pain. Pain warrants sympathy, and I deser
ve none, not when I’ve been stupid, naïve, and blind.

  I fold the newspaper neatly so that the announcement is hidden on the inside.

  “Did you read the part about the party?” Dorothy asks softly.

  Two-hundred people at the Irene Country Club. This coming Saturday. Every word is imprinted in my mind, but I only say, “Mm.”

  I was there with Brian. He allowed me to make a fool of myself. Brian, Eugene, Clive, and Lindy, they all deceived me. Why did he parade me around at Playback? Were they all in on the joke? Dusty lifts his head from his basket and whines, as if he feels my pain.

  Dorothy clicks her tongue. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”

  Dragging my fingers through my hair, I hold my head between my hands. “How could I not see it?”

  “Love is blind.”

  “Don’t rub clichés in my face.” Or more rightly, don’t rub my love in my face. It only makes it worse.

  “When I saw this, I couldn’t not tell you.”

  “You did the right thing.”

  “I believed him when he said he loved you.”

  I give a wry chuckle. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. So did I. He’s good, I have to give him that.”

  “Yet,” she gives me a piercing look, “there was something.”

  I push away from the table. “Tea?” I need to keep busy before I crumple into a ball. That something was all I held onto, and now that there’s nothing, I have to face that the most profound love of my life was meaningless. A farce.

  Before she can answer, Abby skips into the room.

  “Oh, hi, Dorothy. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “You can call my grandma if you like,” Dorothy half-teases.

  I smile to myself. She’d really like that.

  “It’ll feel weird,” Abby says.

  Dorothy brushes an imaginary hair from Abby’s shoulder. “I’m just joking with you. It’s still such a novelty to me.”

  “You must have guessed,” Abby says in the honest way children do.

  Dorothy gives me a guilty look. “It was easier not to think or wonder about it.” She waves a hand, as if wanting to wipe the past away. “I’m glad it’s official, now.”

  Dorothy and Abby have always gotten on well. Not much is going to change in terms of their relationship, except for that official stamp Dorothy mentioned.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask Abby.

  “I was looking for you to ask you something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Abby glances at Dorothy. “It can wait.”

  “Don’t mind me,” Dorothy says, “I was just leaving.”

  She gives Abby a kiss on the cheek and hugs me. “Call me if you need to talk.”

  I show Dorothy to the door and go back to the kitchen to see what Abby wants to talk about.

  “I was thinking…” Abby flops down on the chair and fiddles with the frayed ends of her shorts.

  “Go on,” I encourage.

  “Will you mind very much if I…”

  “Abby, it’s all right. Just say it.”

  She takes a deep breath. “I want to stay with Debs and Dad, if that’s okay with you.”

  To let her choose is a decision I made when I told her who her biological father is. The photos she carries inside her locket already gave me an inkling as to what her answer would be, but the request still knocks my world off its axis.

  She’s babbling, her words tumbling from her lips too fast. “I want to be there for the baby, when he’s born, and my friends live around there. It’s not that I don’t love you, and if you need me–”

  “Honey, it’s fine.” Logically, I understand her decision. Inside, I’m shriveling like a dying plant.

  Her voice is hopeful. “Really?”

  “Of course. You can spend weekends with me, and holidays, and come back to live with me whenever you want.”

  “Thanks,” she whispers. “I’m glad you understand.”

  I open my arms. “Come here.” I hug her against me. “You’ll always be my baby girl. Never forget that.”

  She smiles against my chest and pulls away too fast. I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll ever be, but this is a crucial part of being a parent. It’s a crucial part of love. It’s knowing when to let go.

  Brian

  Of course, Jane removed each and every camera I’ve installed. The whole security system is gone. I don’t have access to her any longer, not even remotely. The fact that she’s so unprotected burns a hole in my stomach. I have a good mind to drive over there and install the whole nine yards again, but my pushiness is what got us into this mess for starters. My pushiness is what almost got her killed. I paid a hacker to get me the medical report. I couldn’t go on until I knew she’d be all right. The near drowning did some serious damage. Technically, she died twice. Twice. Once alone, abandoned and cuffed in freezing cold water, and once in my arms. I resuscitated her the first time and the paramedics the second. Just thinking about it makes me shake all over again. It makes bile rise in my throat. It makes me break out in cold sweat and puke my guts out, time and again, but I can’t stop reliving it.

  According to the checkup report, Jane is physically all right, but I don’t know how she’s doing emotionally, and it’s driving me insane. I called Dorothy, but she won’t tell me shit. What makes it worse, is I can’t go near Jane. I set her free, cut her loose from the destruction I brought, but I can’t even check on her, not while I’m in this volatile mess with Monkey and having to make my engagement to Lindy look authentic. I’ve got to make it appear as the real deal, not only for Monkey’s sake, lest I want him to cut off my nuts and feed my body finger by finger through a mincer, but also for Cowan. This is the cover I need to infiltrate Monkey’s organization as Cowan’s rat. I’ve got my work cut out for me. I never thought I’d be a rat, but if that’s what it takes to protect my family, keep out of jail, and get out of Monkey’s blackmailing claws, that’s what I’ll do. No matter which way I look at it, I don’t have another choice.

  For now I dance to Monkey’s tune, starting with moving into a spare bedroom in their house. He says he wants me close to teach me the business, but it’s to keep an eye on me, which makes ratting all the more difficult. I’m a walking mess, worried that he’ll discover the wire and not only kill me, but also torture my mother and sister to death. Cowan promised me Sam and my mom will have protection if anything happens to me, but he knows as well as I do, the whole police force isn’t enough protection against Monkey and his goons. He’s too powerful. I won’t rest peacefully in my grave until that fucker is locked away for good.

  The living situation complicates matters. I’m not there for Sam and my mom at night. I can only check on them during the day. I refuse to let one of Monkey’s guards sleep over. I don’t trust any of them. Lindy has already pointed out she’s not willing to let my mother move into the big joke of a castle Monkey is having built for us on the highest part of the mountain that divides Waverley and Pretoria North. It’s a wedding gift. So much for family love where my future wife is concerned. Anyway, my mother couldn’t leave our old house even if she wanted. I already knew what I had to do on the day Jane almost died. On the day she clinically did die. It had nothing to do with my future living arrangements and everything with my mother’s physical and mental health. What happened with Jane made me realize we couldn’t carry on like this, which is why I booked Jasmine into a fancy institution that deals with cases like hers. She resisted. It wasn’t easy to convince her, but she eventually agreed when I threatened to have her declared incompetent and forcefully removed to her new, temporary home. It was damn tough. I don’t like bullying her, but my mother is too hardheaded for a gentle nudge. Thanks to Cowan, I got custody of Sam. I put her in the hostel of her private school until things calm down on this end. It’s safer for her there. I still work for Toby, but Monkey has made it clear he expects me to leave my cushy job and throw my full weight into his business when I’m officially his son-in-
law. To that extent, my training starts with immediate effect. I spend as much time at Monkey’s office as at Orion, if not more.

  I’m exiting Monkey’s workshop office when Clive saunters over from across the road. I was supposed to have a look at the legal side of the business–the orders of motor parts and new vehicles–but I was taking photos of the illegal books and ledgers on my smartphone. Sweat rolls down my temples and back. I’m tense. If anyone suspects something and is bright enough to check my phone, I’m fucked. I haven’t had time to send the photos to Cowan so I can delete them. Clive’s untimely arrival irritates me. It means I have to postpone getting rid of the dangerous evidence in my pocket.

  Clive slaps me on the shoulder. “What’s up, bro?”

  “Busy. What are you doing here?”

  “Monkey said he’s got a job for me.”

  I tense more. Clive doesn’t want to get mixed up in this shit. I don’t want to see him take a fall when Cowan takes the whole lot down.

  “You don’t look happy,” he says. “What’s the matter? Afraid someone else will take a slice of your pie?”

  “You don’t want a job with Monkey.”

  “Fuck you, man.”

  He tries to push past me, but I grab his arm.

  “Listen to me, Clive. Stay where you are or get a better job elsewhere. You don’t want a part in this.”

  “Says the man who’s just joined the band. What’s your problem with me, anyway? You’re suddenly too good for the likes of me?”

  “That’s not it.” I hesitate to admit this. I don’t want Clive to get suspicious. “I worry about you.”

  He snorts. “I’d rather worry about the party if I were you.” He jerks free and dusts his leather jacket where I’d gripped him. “I’m bringing Eugene in, too. You may think you’re too good for us now that you’re bagging Lindy and Sam’s going to that fancy girls’ school, but at least Eugene and I still stick together.”

  I clench my teeth. “Don’t do it, Clive. You’re not doing Eugene a favor.”

  He puts his face in mine. “He needs a fucking job, or his old man is going to throw him out. Albert says he can’t stay any longer if he doesn’t pay rent.”