“Yeah, it does. They took the house, but because he’d borrowed up to the hilt, maxed out credit cards and withdrew everything from our re-draw facility, they came after me for the rest. I’d just given up my full-time job to take on more study. We were planning to try for a baby on our honeymoon. One day I was leading what I thought was the perfect life, and then I was on my own with a big-arse debt.”
“Where did you go?”
“I moved home, and my parents were great. They helped me pay off some bills and gave me a place to stay. A few weeks later I had a massive bender. They came home a day early from holidays, and found my head buried between the thighs of a French backpacker. I was shown the door.”
Suds was caught licking out a hot French backpacker? Don’t get turned on. This is serious shit. She was kicked out. Change the subject.
“Shit. And you haven’t seen the fuckwit since?”
“If I had the money I would’ve hired a private investigator. I tried reaching out to his family, but they wouldn’t take my calls. If I ever see him again, I’ll skin him alive.”
“Even though you can’t stand the sight of blood?”
“You’re right. I’ll need help. You up for that?”
“Hell yeah.”
“The fucker not only ruined my life, he’s fucked up my credit rating forever. I’m never going be free of this shit. I’m basically working for nothing. I’ll be renting for the rest of my life, because there is no way a bank will even consider me for a home loan.”
“I’m not gonna let them take your car,” I say, and I mean it. I’ve got money. I’ve been smart with what Mum left me. Stupid fucking staph infection.
“This isn’t your battle,” she whispers.
“The hell it’s not. I just made it mine, so deal with it.”
“You’re so arrogant,” she sputters.
“You’re too proud to ask for help,” I say, mirroring her tone.
Silence.
A hiccup bursts from her lips. “Oh,” she moans, and moves her hands to her stomach.
“Oh, what?”
“I don’t feel so good,” she says. An almighty burp rips from her mouth.
“In what universe is that okay?” I mock her.
“What if I puke? Will you hold my hair back?”
“Ah,” I mumble.
“Kidding … I’ll be fine. But a glass of water would be awesome.”
“Be right back.”
I spring out of her bed, go to the bathroom for a piss, and then head to the kitchen. After turning off the TV, I scull a glass of water, and then take one back to her.
I walk in to find Suds blowing her nose. By the jerking of her shoulders and her jagged breath, I can tell she’s been crying again. Dammit. I thought we’d sorted this shit. Why is she still upset? Women.
Suds sits up and I hand her the glass. She takes a few sips as I perch on the edge of the bed.
“No more cryin’,” I tell her.
A noise somewhere between a laugh, a sob and hiccup comes from her mouth. It doesn’t sound human. She rolls over and faces away from me.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she argues. She reaches back and grabs my hand and wraps it around her middle. Guess I’m not leaving.
I snuggle in behind her as I was before, except I slip my other arm beneath her neck, letting her use it for a pillow.
“No, but you need to be told,” I growl in her ear.
Her breathing settles down, and little by little I feel the tension in her body fade. I close my eyes and drink in her sweet scent as I think of the shit that went down today.
“I hope you realise what an important person you are, De Luca, ’cause right now you’re the only one keeping me together.”
Wow. What the hell do you say to that?
I tighten my hold around her waist and pull her back to rest against my chest. I haven’t felt important to anyone in the longest time. To hear her say that makes me wanna hold on to her … and not let go.
“One day sober … proud of you,” she whispers, and then lets out a sweet sigh.
Has she been keeping tabs on me? I’ve had a couple of beers with Jones the last couple of afternoons before coming home, not today though. Maybe she’s smelt it on my breath.
“Yeah,” I grunt out. With all the commotion going on around here, I hadn’t thought about it.
****
A warm body is spooning back into me when I wake. I slept in her bed, and I’m free of stab wounds. Ha.
“I can’t remember the last time I woke up with one of those perched against me,” she says, in the sexiest morning voice I’ve ever heard. I thought I was hard before…
“You get me hard.” I don’t even feel bad about grinding it against her that little bit more.
“Ha ha, very funny,” she says, but she doesn’t make any kind of move to squirm away. Interesting.
“Seriously. You do. Just telling it how it is.”
“Well you’d better get out of here before I … um,” she stammers.
“What? Do something with it?” Is she tempted?
“No!” She rolls onto her back and shakes her head. “God, I think it’s time for you and your morning glory to leave. I’ve gotta get up and get to work. Tony gave me an extra shift so I can’t be late.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta be in the workshop in an hour.”
“What time will you be home?”
“I dunno, hopefully by five, why?”
Suds rubs the sleep from her eyes, and regards me. “Don’t make any plans tonight,” she orders.
“Mystery date?” Why the hell would I say that?
“No. Not a mystery date.”
She props herself up on her elbows and stretches out her back. Those goddamn nipples are perky. Again. She leans over and kisses my cheek, her hair tickling at my jaw.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“What for?”
“Just being you.”
No one has ever said something so heartfelt to me. Ever.
A soft smile creates a dimple to her cheek and before I know it, she plants her soft lips briefly against mine, and then makes her way out of the room.
Hold up a minute.
There’s some kind of weird thing happening inside my chest.
****
Once Suds has left for work, I ring the number on the bottom of the letter. After ten minutes I finally get to speak to a real person, which means I’m already at the point where I’m ready to blast someone.
“What’s it gonna take for her to keep her car?”
“It’s not that simple, sir.”
“Well, it fuckin’ is. Just give me a figure.”
“Um, one moment, please. I need to check with my supervisor.’
“You do that,” I grunt.
After twenty minutes, I’ve sorted the problem.
As promised, Soph is keeping her car. For now.
****
Jones is already at the workshop when I arrive. He seems pretty lively, if you ask me.
“How many coffees you got under your belt?” I ask as I head over to the percolated coffee machine, which is on its last legs.
“Two, buddy. April kept me up all night.” He does that stupid thing with his eyebrows, making them jump up and down.
“Yeah, I bet she did. You two are like fuckin’ rabbits.”
“What’d you get up to last night?”
“Not much,” I say, because of course, Suds made me swear not to say anything. I kinda get the whole non-sharing thing she does with her friends. I relate to it, but it does make me worry that she’d keep shit like this to herself. What else is she bottling up?
“You mean no big night down the pub? No birds in your bed?”
“Nope.” Just a quiet night at home with a girl …
“Uh-huh,” he says, finishing off with a cocky smirk. “How’s Soph?”
My eyebrows pull together, and I narrow my gaze at him. What’s he wanna know for? “You have her number,
why don’t you ring her and ask her yourself.”
“Ooh, we’re a bit touchy this morning.”
“How about you shut the hell up while I work on your bike?”
“Fine, but before I shut up, I need to tell you that we have to sort out the suits next week. April has been on my case for a month.”
“Whatever you need,” I say, as I unclip his bike seat.
“S’pose I’d better get myself a new suit too,” Mac pipes in from behind us. “It’s been a while since I’ve worn one, and well, this old bod isn’t what it used to be.”
“You might as well come with us,” Jones tells him. “We’ll go before next round. Friday.”
“Sounds good,” Mac chimes in, and then starts humming a tune. “Looks like I’ve got a date for the wedding, Jones.”
“Good to hear, Mac,” Jones says. “April will be thrilled.”
****
I breeze through so much work today I even surprise myself. Spare parts are ordered. Tools are in order. Bikes are in prime condition. Today I fucking killed it.
Mac hasn’t stopped nodding at me, and a smile hasn’t left his face all day. He’s been humming and singing around the workshop. Things with the lady friend must be working out. Good on him.
At the end of the day, I’m itching to get out of here. Suds has something planned for me, and it’s been nagging in the back of my head all day.
Has it got anything to do with the fact that we’re growing closer?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ROCCO
“What the fuck do I wear?” I ask her, as I pace up and down the hallway. It’s Saturday night and I have no clue where we are going. Even though I’d probably wear jeans anyway.
Apart from that, this niggling feeling in my gut tells me that I might just be a little nervous. Since when does that happen?
“Whatever you want.”
“The mankini is in the wash, so jeans and shirt it is.”
“Okay, I retract the ‘anything’ statement. Jeans will be perfect.”
As our boots thud down the stairs towards the exit of the building, I have a niggling urge to ask her about the interview. It’d be nice for something to finally go her way. I fuckin’ hope it’s good news.
“You hear anything back about the job?” I ask.
She smiles, flashing me her white teeth. What did I just ask her?
“They got the reference and will hopefully be back in touch with me in the next week.”
“Sweet.” Better than a straight-up rejection.
“Fingers crossed anyway.”
“Good work.”
“I’ll drive. Might be my last spin in this baby,” she says with a half-hearted chuckle as we approach her hatchback, which has a few dents in its dark blue paintwork.
Will she stab me or hug me when I tell her what I’ve done? I might as well just spit it out. “It won’t be the last. I took care of it.”
Her head twists in my direction so fast I worry she might have hurt her neck.
“You what?” she asks, blinking rapidly. “What does that mean, Rocco?” From her expectant gaze and watery eyes, I get the feeling there’s no stabbing in my imminent future.
I twist my upper body in the seat to face her. “I don’t expect anything in return. I just took the heat off.”
Suds opens her mouth to speak, closes it again and tilts her head to the side.
I briefly hold a finger to her soft lips. Hmm, soft. Her shoulders drop as she gives me a lazy smile.
“You don’t have to say anything, Suds. Just drive.”
She starts the engine, and ‘Dirty Deeds’ by AC/DC blares through the speakers. My kind of music.
As the engine idles, a warm hand curls over mine. I look down at my lap just as Suds squeezes my fingers with her own.
“Thank you. I … just thank you,” she whispers.
I clear my throat. “Sure. Let’s go.”
Suds shakes her head and pulls away from the curb. She drives in the direction of Kings Cross, bopping her head to the beat.
“You taking me to the strippers? ’Cause I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve got no problems with that. And yes, it’d be totally good for me.”
We pull up out the front of a building with Wayside Chapel on the sign out front. Now I’m fucking confused.
“You’re taking me to church? Suds, the Vatican would have to pray for me, because I’m definitely going to hell.”
“Shut up. I’m not taking you to church.”
We get out of the car, and start walking up the path to the building, which has several lights on and a door propped open.
A road bike roars down the street, and Soph jumps out of her skin. “Fuck,” she breathes, clutching at my arm.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “We’re good. You’ve got nothing left for him to steal,” I joke.
“True that,” she says, through a soft chuckle.
“Mind you, you still need to report that.”
“Shush.”
When we reach the top of the stairs, Suds stops and turns her back to the open doorway. She takes my hands in hers and looks into my eyes, piercing right through me. It instantly has a calming effect. Whatever she has planned, I get the sense that it’s cool, but if there’s a bunch of hippie-non-showering people in here that want me to praise Jesus, I’m high-tailing it out of here.
“Rocco, inside here, is an AA meeting.”
“A what?” My heart beats faster and blood rushes to my face. I squeeze her hands in mine, whether it be to supress my panic or stop her from running away … I don’t know.
“I’m not going to force you inside, and I’m not about to take you in there and then spring it on you, because that’d be a shitty thing to do. What I am doing is putting you on the doorstep.”
I know I have a problem, but admitting it in front of a bunch of randoms is not something I can do. No way. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m helping a friend. You’ve been there for me. Now it’s my turn.”
“Are they gonna preach to me how evil drinking is? Because I already know that shit.”
“There’s no preaching. No judgement. You don’t have to join up or anything. You don’t even have to say a word. It’s about taking the first step to giving it up.”
Soph is calm, and talks about it as if she’s the poster-child for AA.
“How do you know so much about this?”
“Because I helped my nana through it.”
Her nana? The lady who’s in the photo in her room? That sweet old bitty was an alco? No way.
I shift from foot to foot as I try to work out what to do. Soph stares at me as if she’s channelling some cute-as-hell puppy dog.
“If I come in, and I hate it, I’m leaving.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen, and I promise we’ll leave whenever you want.”
I take in a deep breath as we walk in. Am I ready for this?
The group is a weird mix of people—young, old, and some look as if they’re living on the poverty line by the state of their clothes. I’m surprised to see a couple of people in business suits. It’s totally not what I expected.
We take a seat at the back, which suits me because then we won’t make a ruckus when I decide to get out of here.
First we hear John. Is that his real name? He tells the room how he’s been sober for nine days and eight hours. He’s pretty proud of himself, and he earns a round of cheers and a few claps from the group. He looks as if he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep … ever. John tells us how he drove drunk and had a bad car accident. How he got fired from his job at a transport company because he lost his licence for DUI. That his wife has kicked him out and has filed for divorce. His three teenage girls want nothing to do with him. Even though all this shit is happening to him, he’s determined to make a change … one day at a time.
One day at a time. That is how I’m living my life. Drink just happens to be part of that day.
&
nbsp; A few others contribute, and I take in everything they have to say. I don’t have the courage or the inclination to say anything. Suds hasn’t let go of my hand this whole meeting—if anything, I’ve held on tighter. There’s a whole lot of mixing of palm sweat going on. Suds doesn’t even seem to care that her hands are banged up and I’m gripping them so tightly.
When the meeting wraps up, I tug on Suds’s hand and make a grunting noise that’s code for ‘let’s get out of here’. She’s mid-wave with a guy in a suit. Did she used to come to this place with her nan? From the look of another smile in her direction, I get the feeling she did. Suds doesn’t put up with shit from anyone, so I’m guessing if she chose to bring me here, the people are half decent.
Time to go? she mouths.
“Yup.”
We walk in silence to her car, hand in hand. Am I a pussy ’cause I don’t wanna let go? When we walk into the light cast by a streetlight beside her car, I’m forced to take a step back when Suds throws her arms around my shoulders and hugs me.
She relaxes her hold and stares at my face. “I’m really proud of you,” she says in a quiet voice, blinking those emerald green eyes. I wanna kiss the fuck out of her, I should, but I can’t. I have a problem. I’m a drunk. Whoa. I’m a drunk. Yup. Just like Dad. I can’t publicly admit it, but I don’t deserve to be with anyone until I have my shit under control.
I wrap my arms around her waist and bury my head in the crook of her neck. Of their own will, my arms tighten around her. I can’t even look at her for fear of choking up. Since when does shit get to me?
Suds unfolds her arms from me and leans back, flattening her palms over my pecs. I still don’t let go.
“I’ll come to as many meetings as you want me to. This stays between us.”
I nod. I don’t know if I can come back. It wasn’t a bad experience, but I don’t see how it can help. How could I stand up in front of a room full of people and lay my shitty life on the table if I can’t even talk to a single soul about it? Maybe I need to try. Maybe that’s the first step.
Suds wants to be a part of this. She’s prepared to stand by me and get me through it. Man. What the hell did I do to deserve this woman in my life? I’m a lucky son-of-a-bitch.
“You like Thai food?” I ask, my voice gruff.
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