“I wish,” he replied solemnly as his smile fell.
“You’re going out and don’t know when you’ll be back.”
I watched their interaction from the sidelines. Like some creepy stalker, I tracked their every move. They were so in sync that Mia knew what he would say even before he said it. Squatting down to meet her disappointed face dead on, he slipped his glasses up over his forehead before settling them on the top of his head. She silently leant towards him, leaning into his hand on her cheek. I should have looked away. Given them their privacy. But I couldn’t tear my eyes from them. They were so disgustingly happy. Part of me wanted to punch them both in the face for being so sickeningly sweet. The other part, well, she was just a jealous bitch.
I didn’t catch Derek’s response, but I caught the tiny kiss he left on her forehead as he rose to his feet.
“Be safe,” Mia mumbled.
“Always,” he said. The one word, one simple, single word was so full of promise and even though I hadn’t known Derek that long I knew it was a promise he wouldn’t willingly break in a hurry.
A moment later he was gone and we were left to our own devices. Stealing a glance at Mia, I watched as she tugged at the label on her now empty beer bottle, obviously distracted. “I don’t know how you do it, Mia.”
“Do what?” She looked up, confusion written on her face.
“Let him go like that.”
“Why?”
“His job. I mean, you never know where or when or what…”
“He’s happy. That’s all that matters.”
“But are you?” My words hung in the air like a bad smell.
The question may have seemed like it’d come from nowhere. Just some backhanded remark I spewed out in the moment. Nothing could be further from the truth. From the moment I’d moved in with them, I often wondered how Mia got through each and every one of his shifts. I’d heard the phone ring in the middle of the night, followed by the heavy footsteps through the house, barely a breath before the engine of his cruiser fired to life. There was no stability there. No guarantees. I wasn’t sure I could do it. Actually, I was pretty positive I couldn’t. Then again, Mia was a hell of a lot stronger than me. She always has been. A lot stronger than I’d ever given her credit for. If anyone could endure and thrive in the uncertainty, then it was definitely my sister.
Just as Mia’s mouth opened, an ear-splitting screech stole our attention. We were both out of the chair before we knew it, heading towards the middle of the yard, where Matilda sat screaming bloody murder. Reaching her side, I picked her up.
“Hey there. What’s all that noise about?” I asked in my calmest voice. I heard it waver, but thankfully Matilda was still too young to sense my concern. Checking her over, I quickly found the problem. Digging into the centre of her palm was a thistle. “Is this what hurts?” I inquired as I opened her hand up.
Big, fat, wet tears dripped from her eyes and every single one broke my heart. Silently, Mia moved to my side and checked it out. “Okay, Munchkin, let’s get that nasty thing out!” Mia explained as she reached down and pulled it out while I held Matilda’s wrist still. As soon as it was gone, Mia bent down and kissed the sore spot. “All better!”
Matilda giggled, all pain and tears forgotten as she once again began to wiggle in my arms. “Well, I guess she’s over that,” I huffed as I set her back on the grass. Before I’d taken a step she’d wrapped her arm around my leg and pulled herself to her feet.
“Guess so,” Mia agreed quickly, but I knew her well. Maybe too well. There was more behind her words than just Matilda’s drama. “I’m starving. I’m going to head in and find some food. You want something?”
“Sure.”
I watched Mia go, before turning and cleaning up the mess. The light hearted afternoon was over and it was all my fault. If only I’d learn to keep my big mouth shut.
After dinner, I got Matilda bathed and off to bed before braving the icy reception waiting for me in the lounge room. Ever since I’d opened my big mouth, the conversation between us had been stilted. I knew I should apologise, I should take it back, but I just couldn’t. Seeing Mia like this was painful and it was all my fault. Now things were settled, now Matilda and I were doing fine, maybe it was time we found somewhere else to live. Give Mia and Derek some space to just be. Have some time to just enjoy being together. Happy. Engaged. The more I considered the idea, the more I knew it was the right decision. Tomorrow, I’d start to figure out a plan.
Bringing my toes up on the coffee table, I focused on removing the remnants of chipped purple polish so I could apply a new colour. These days it was the only thing I did to make myself feel pretty. My hair mostly looked like I’d stuck a finger in a light socket thanks mostly to the little girl who constantly tugged at my curls, and makeup was pretty much a thing of the past. It took time and patience to apply, time I didn’t have. And clothes. Don’t even mention fashion to me. When I was in Melbourne, fashion was my world. I loved my sky high heels and silky tops. I loved anything that showed off my amazing boobs. But my absolute favourite item was a pair of black leather pants. They fit like a second skin and made my ass look fabulous. In fact, if I was a betting woman, I’d put money on it that Matilda was a result of a night out in those pants. They made me feel sexy and confident. I loved shaking my ass on the dance floor, watching the guys who circled drool as I dropped it to the floor before bouncing back up. Now, thanks to the after effects of childbirth and too many months of binge eating Tim Tams, I doubt they’d even pull up over my thunder thighs, let alone cover my fat ass. It was shit. So the only thing I had to make me feel hot these days was a coat of polish to my toes. This week, I desperately needed a boost. Hooker red it was.
Halfway through my first coat, Mia dropped into the lounge beside me and sighed heavily. There was something on her mind. She had this look about her that was a dead giveaway. She had something she wanted to say, but by the way she was chewing on her lip it was obvious she was struggling to find the words. The way her eyebrows knitted together as she twisted her hands in her lap made me cringe. She was my sister. She shouldn’t have to hold back what she was thinking or try to find the politically correct version. She should just blurt out whatever she was thinking so we could deal with it. Together. Like we had everything else life had thrown at us.
I lasted four and a half minutes. Four and a half minutes of watching her fight her thoughts. Four and a half minutes of flicking through every single television channel we had, barely pausing for a second to see what was on. Four and a half minutes before I snapped more harshly than I’d intended. “Seriously, Mia! What is it? Just spit it out already!”
“What?”
“Whatever it is that’s got your panties in a twist. Just say it already.”
“It’s not…I don’t…”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I forced myself to remain silent. Finishing the first coat, I put the lid on the polish and sunk back against the lounge. For a long moment I watched her struggle. Running her hand through her short blonde hair, Mia huffed and squeezed her eyes shut before pinching the bridge of her nose.
It was seriously pissing me off. Now was not the time though, to lose my shit and strangle her. But she was seriously testing my waning patience.
“You…you’re right.” It came out as barely a whisper.
“Of course I was,” I replied with a chuckle. I usually was, but this time I had no idea what I was actually right about. “About what, specifically?”
“Me.”
Fuck! Getting sense out of her was like pulling teeth. I didn’t even have to work this hard to get Matilda to eat her dinner, and that was one fussy eater. “Any chance there’s more to this story?”
“Me being happy.”
Well, shit.
Chapter 4
Nate
Sweat ran down my back and into my shorts. It was disgusting. Every single thought in my head was screaming for a shower and a cold beer and not necessarily i
n that order. I’d been at it for hours but didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. The removalist had shown up four hours later than they should have and I should have been pissed. Instead I found myself thankful for their tardiness. I was nowhere near ready to have my life brought inside to this filth.
I’d returned to my place just as the sun touched the horizon and got to work. I didn’t have anything to use, so I’d focused on what I could. One good look at the disgusting carpet and I knew it was going to last the day. Grabbing hold of one threadbare corner, I yanked it up and it came away easily. Manoeuvring the gigantic roll of mouldy, smelly carpet out the back door wasn’t the easiest thing to do, yet somehow I managed it. What was left under it was enough dirt to fill a garden bed. I found myself wishing I could just drag in the hose and wash it all away, but I doubted even that would be enough.
When nine o’clock hit, I took off down the street to get some much needed coffee and some cleaning supplies. As much as I could carry. The moment I returned, I downed the cold coffee, making a mental note not to bother getting coffee from the take out place ever again, before throwing myself at the mercy of the house.
A knock on the door brought me from my cleaning chemical daze. Wiping my brow with my discarded shirt, I let them began bringing my stuff in. Despite their offers to put it in the right rooms, I just got them to pile it in the middle of the family room. Nothing was clean enough yet to be put away properly. When they carried in my favourite black leather recliner, my knees buckled under me. Finally something felt like home. I couldn’t help myself. Covered head to toe in dirt and grime, I flopped back against the worn leather and closed my eyes.
It didn’t take long before the truck was empty and my life was piled up before me. It was as depressing as hell. Suddenly I felt the overwhelming desire to collapse into my bed and not wake up until this nightmare was over. It’d been one thing to pack everything into boxes, but that was nothing though. Not compared to this. This was real. There was no denying it or hiding from it. This was my whole life. My whole world. I had nothing. Sure I had a bunch of shit, but none of it meant anything. It really sucked.
I needed a drink. At the thought, my stomach rumbled, reminding me I should probably eat at some point.
“Fuck!” I swore loudly, my voice echoing through the empty rooms. I wish I knew what possessed me to buy such a huge house. Right now it felt really big. And lonely. Too lonely.
Digging through the box marked “linen,” I grabbed a couple of towels and headed for the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, I turned the taps, waiting for them to splutter to life. With one final groan, water started shooting from the shower head and I was thankful I wasn’t standing beneath it. It was a dirty, dishwater brown colour. And the stench. There was nothing like it. I’d smelt farts nicer than that. It took almost three minutes of watching it circle the drain before it eventually began to run clear.
Groaning, I knew this was as good as it was going to get. Seizing the bottle of shampoo, I stepped under the scalding water and held my breath. This stench was going to take some getting used to. As quickly as I could, I scrubbed off the dirt and sweat before stepping out and wrapping a towel around my waist.
Wiping the mirror with my hand, the face I saw staring back at me was barely recognisable. The guy standing there looked old. And haunted. And broken. And I didn’t have time to be any of those. I had shit to do. Rubbing my hand across the stubble on my chin, I decided that a change was as good as a holiday. This was the biggest change I could have ever imagined. All I had to do was make the best of it and get on with it. Find something to believe in again. Let go of the past and start over. No one else would do it for me, so I had to suck it up and do it myself. Ten minutes later I was on my bike, headed back to the club. The food had been tasty and the beer cold, and right now, that was all I needed.
I pulled into the deserted car park and climbed off. I loved my bike. No one was ever getting between me and her. Even the short, boring ride through the streets relieved the stress. Pushing my keys into my pocket, I made my way towards the door. The moment I went to pull it open, I heard someone yelling. Pausing, I looked around, but couldn’t see anyone. Thinking I was going insane, something that was a very real possibly right now, I yanked open the door.
“Get off me!” The call came again and this time I knew it wasn’t just my delirious mind playing tricks on me.
In long, quick strides, I rounded the corner and saw two people in what was an obvious disagreement. The smaller one, the woman I’d met last night—Jane, Jemma, Jenna, something like that—was pushed up against the huge blue skip bin by an oversized a drunk.
As much as I didn’t have the energy to deal with this shit today, I wasn’t about to walk away. That wasn’t me. Hell, no one should walk away from a scene like this. Digging my hands in my pockets, I stepped out of the shadows and into view.
“Hey! What’s up?” I tried to hold my voice steady as I spotted the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.
At my voice, the drunk turned and stumbled as he tried to place me. I knew he had no idea who I was, in this town nobody did. “Fuck off!” he slurred as he stumbled towards me.
With his attention firmly focused on me, his would-be victim shuffled away from the bin as quietly as possible. “Hey man!” I began, holding my hands up in surrender. “I’m the new guy in town. Just looking for the entrance. In this damn heat, I need a beer. Know what I mean?” I tried playing the new guy card. It was worth a shot.
He staggered towards me, tripping over his own feet. My eyes never left his bloodshot ones. He was fucked. It was embarrassing really, but nevertheless there he was, cursing and calling me every name under the sun, and some I’d never heard of before. I wasn’t worried. Hell, I’d been in worse situations than this and come out unscathed. My eyes never left him, though. I wasn’t a complete idiot. Who knew what he’d do. When someone grasped my arm, I spun and instantly jumped into fight mode.
“I-I-I’m sorry…” Her voice was so shaky and timid I immediately felt like an asshole. I hadn’t meant to scare her. She’d snuck up on me and I was already on edge.
“You fucking him, Jenna? Not good enough for this anymore?” the drunk taunted as he grabbed his crotch suggestively.
I rolled my eyes. If he was trying to make a case for what a catch he was, then he wasn’t mounting a very good one.
“Go home, Paul,” she sighed sadly at my side. “Sleep it off.”
There was a weariness there that made my every nerve frazzle. I didn’t know this chick from a bar of soap, but she deserved better than to be treated like this. I’m not claiming to be the nicest guy in the world, in fact I could be a damn right prick at times, but this was just sad. Looking down at her, the defeat was undeniable.
Ensuring she knew what I was doing before I did it, I offered her my arm, “Come on. Let’s head in. I’m sure you could use a drink and I know I definitely can.” It took a moment, but when her small hand wrapped around my forearm, I felt the warmth seep through the leather sleeve of my jacket. We moved off, but I only got two steps before something hard hit me square between the shoulders, knocking me off balance.
After stumbling for a couple of steps, I managed to right myself and spin around, only to be met with the seething anger of the drunk standing before me. “Think you can just come in here and steal my girl?”
What the fuck was this guy on? He was as dumb as dog shit if he thought for a second I had anything going on with this woman. Fuck, I couldn’t even get her name straight in my head. In fact, the only thing I did know about her was that she poured drinks like a champion. Well, that and she deserved a hell of a lot better than this asswipe.
Forcing her behind me, I squared my shoulders and stared at this guy head on. Most of the time that’s all it took. One look. One defiant stance. Yet for some reason, this guy didn’t budge. Maybe it was the lack of brain cells or possibly there was too much blood in his alcohol stream. I didn’t care either way. If he thought for a
second he was getting his meaty paws on her, he’d have to get through me first. And I was no push over.
He swung wildly.
Mercifully, he missed by a mile and it was enough to unbalance him. While he wobbled about, I stepped forward and gave him one good shove, sending him backwards, landing on his ass in the dirt. I heard a gasp behind me, but I didn’t allow my eyes to leave the guy in front of me. That was the quickest way to ensure you got your ass handed to you…something I was not about to let happen.
For a moment there was a look of complete shock on his face but it was soon replaced with pure, unadulterated anger as he fought his way back to his feet. It’s amazing how quickly you can sober up when you’re angry.
Wiping his hands across his thick thighs, he spat on the ground, sending a huge white glob landing only centimetres from my dusty boot. This guy was really starting to piss me off. “Fucking pretty boy. Thinks he can tell me what to do,” he mumbled as he came towards me again.
Throwing an unexpected right hook, he caught my shoulder, and the vibration shuddered through my body. That was all it took to break the strangle hold I had on my wavering patience. I didn’t need this shit. Not tonight. I was already tired and cranky and aching, I didn’t need this asshole making it worse. Planting my feet, I stepped towards him and threw a punch. The moment I connected with his jaw, I knew I wouldn’t need another. He wobbled and wavered before toppling to the ground with a loud thud.
Risking a look behind me, I saw the shaken woman putting her phone back in her pocket. “Derek is on his way now.”
“Derek?”
“The local cop.”
“Oh. Shit.”
I didn’t know what to think. I’d just laid out a guy I didn’t know in a parking lot. I thought I was doing the right thing, sticking up for a seemingly defenceless woman, and she’d thanked me by calling cops. Or cop. Whom she obviously knew well enough if she called him by his name and had his number on speed dial. I did not need this shit. Not tonight. And in a town this size, I was almost positive by the time I woke up in my shithole tomorrow everyone would know. They’d know the new teacher in town was trouble. A reputation I didn’t need. Yet it was exactly what would happen. God knows with my shit luck these days, it’d be what I’d get.
Believing Again (Finding Your Place Book 3) Page 3
