They hung up.
He took a long swig of the whiskey and let it sear down to his stomach, then laid his head on the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling.
He missed her. He wanted her. But the guilt was eating him from the inside out, like a rat in his stomach, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go on like that.
Chapter Twelve
“So how’s it going? Sent the poor bastard to the gallows yet?”
Honey gave Jasmine a wry look over the rim of her coffee cup. It was Wednesday, and her sister was in Kaitaia picking up a delivery of home-grown herbs from a local supplier, so they’d arranged to meet for lunch. She hadn’t told Jasmine much about the case, but her sister had been closer to the mark than she realised. Honey sincerely wished she could send James Hill to the electric chair.
She was relieved to have someone to distract her from what was turning out to be a heartrending case. That morning, the jury had heard James’s side of the story, which had been pretty much what she’d expected. He’d explained that his relationship with Sarah had started out as fun, but she’d turned serious quicker than he had, and he’d never really returned her feelings for him. She’d pressured him into moving in together, which he’d agreed to because he liked being with her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
Honey had almost laughed out loud at that point.
But Sarah had proved to be jealous, possessive and temperamental, he’d continued to explain. She flew into a rage if he came through the door ten minutes later than he said he would, and threw accusations at him along with whatever was to hand, plates, glasses, TV remotes, the occasional shoe. He tried to explain that he’d only been working late, or on the odd occasion visited the local bar with his friends, but she always assumed there was another woman involved—which there never was—and she screamed at him until he had enough and walked out.
She grew lazy, spending her days in front of the TV, refusing to go into work, and eventually lost her job. After that, he struggled with what to do, knowing he couldn’t just throw her out onto the street, but soon becoming aware that he didn’t want the relationship to continue. He tried to talk to her father about it, but he didn’t want to know. He couldn’t talk to Sarah, because every time he raised the subject, she flew into a fit and screamed and then cried.
He thought about it for weeks, but in the end made the decision on the spot. Yes, he’d come home late, and yes, he’d been drinking, mainly because he’d been unwilling to go home as he knew what lay in store for him. When he walked in, she started screaming, and he snapped, turned around without another word and walked out. He never went back.
Not until the night in question, anyway. He rang Sarah to tell her he’d like to collect some of his things, especially his precious CD collection, as he hadn’t yet transferred them all onto his iPod. Sarah refused, saying she wouldn’t let him in the house—the house he was still paying the rent for. He checked with the landlord, who assured him he hadn’t yet changed the locks, and then he told Sarah he’d be coming over to pick up his stuff after he got back from a course in Auckland. It might be late, he told her, probably after ten.
He got to the house at eleven—later than he’d anticipated, but she’d always stayed up late watching TV, and he thought she’d be up. He let himself in, realised from the darkness and silence that she was in bed and, rather than confront her, decided to grab his stuff and run. In the middle of packing up his CDs, he didn’t notice her until she was on top of him, at which point she screamed his name, the blade in her hand. He didn’t have time to react and the blade sliced his face. He wrested it from her, grabbed his stuff and left for the hospital. They’d done their best, but his face was permanently scarred.
The defence lawyer had cross-examined him and succeeded a little in drawing out James’s feelings toward Sarah—that he despised her for being weak, and that he hadn’t loved her for a long time. But James had been convincing in painting her as a crazed, over-possessive madwoman, and he looked cool and convincing in his navy suit, showing none of the cruelness and manipulation Honey was certain he’d used on the defendant.
Sent the poor bastard to the gallows yet? Jasmine had asked.
“I’m working on it,” Honey said.
Jasmine broke her muffins into pieces and ate one. “Do you think he’s guilty?”
Honey sighed. She’d told her sisters a little about the case the night before. “Unfortunately he’s not on trial, or the answer would definitely be yes. But it’s the woman who’s on trial. And the shame of it is that yes, I think she probably did know it was him that night, and she did mean to wound him. But a conviction would be such an unfair result, because it doesn’t take into account the years of torture I’m sure that man’s put her through. It’s like a bully in the playground repeatedly shoving a smaller child, and when the child finally reacts by standing up for itself, the school expels the child rather than the bully.”
“Yeah, I see.” Jasmine picked up half of her chicken roll and frowned at the contents. “Look at this. There’s about a quarter of a chicken breast in here. It’s nearly all salad, and most of that’s lettuce.”
“We do a much better job,” Honey agreed, sipping her latte, which wasn’t hot enough or strong enough.
Jasmine ate the roll anyway, in spite of her grimace. She studied her sister as she chewed. “Do you ever regret not pressing charges? You know, with Ian?”
Honey shrugged, unused to discussing it. Although her father had told all her siblings what had happened with Ian when she returned home, she’d told him she didn’t want to talk about it, tongue-tied out of a mixture of shame and misery, and he’d passed the message on. She’d only talked it over with a therapist, not with her family. “It would be very difficult to prove he did anything wrong. He never actually hit me—it was emotional and mental abuse, not physical. And he had friends in high places who would no doubt have helped him escape a sentence, even if we did make anything stick. No, I’m just glad to have left him behind.”
Jasmine laid a hand on hers. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice, and to Honey’s surprise, tears shone in her eyes. The loud and confident Jasmine wasn’t prone to showing emotion, which made it all the more startling.
“It’s okay,” Honey said awkwardly.
“It’s not okay. We should have realised what was going on. I knew he was a bastard, but I didn’t think, you know? I was too tied up in my own life, and with Mum. But we let you down, and we all feel really bad about that.”
“You didn’t let me down. I let myself down. I should have been stronger and stood up for myself more.” She cleared her throat—she’d berated herself enough for that over the past few years and she wasn’t going to do it again. “But it’s done now. The only people to blame are myself, and Ian.”
“Even so. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it to you, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Honey bit her lip as Jasmine met her gaze, her eyes sincere. “Thanks,” was all she could manage, her throat tightening.
Jasmine smiled brightly. “Still, you have Dex now, eh? And you’ll be married on Saturday and then off on honeymoon!”
“Yeah. I guess.”
Jasmine’s smile slipped. “What’s up?”
“I…” To her alarm, Honey’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh crap.”
“Oh no.” Jasmine stared in alarm and shoved a paper serviette in her hand. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing, it’s just me being over-emotional as usual.” Honey mopped her eyes. “I’m being stupid, I know. But with Mum’s anniversary, and then this awful court case touching a nerve, I’m worrying about everything.”
“What’s bothering you about Dex? Last time I saw you both on Sunday, he looked like the cat that had been at the cream.”
“I know. Something happened on Monday, but he won’t tell me what. At least, I think something happened. I’ve only spoken on the phone to him since then, but he’s been distant. He
didn’t want to come and see me Monday night, or last night, and he was sharp with me. Dex is never sharp with me.” She rubbed her nose.
“I’m sure it’s just nerves,” Jasmine soothed. “After what happened last time, he’s bound to find the whole process nerve-racking.”
Honey frowned. “I don’t quite get the logic of that. The idea of waiting to sleep together until we were married was supposed to take the stress away. What does he have to worry about? I’m the one who has to worry if he’s going to turn up, because his track record has proven he has a habit of doing the opposite. I can’t pretend I’m pregnant. And until recently, he didn’t show a bit of nerves. No, something happened to change his mind.”
She stared into her coffee. Had one of his friends said something to put doubt in his mind? Something about the serious nature of marriage, and about how awful it was to be tied to one girl? Was it just sinking in about how it would be forever? Or was it about sex? Ian’s words about her being boring in bed were always fluttering in her head like moths in an attic. Maybe Dex was beginning to worry that Ian was right.
While they were making out, Dex had often murmured the things he’d like to do to her once they were married, but Honey had always been too shy to return the sexy talk, worried she’d say the wrong thing and make him laugh. She’d always responded to him, and she was certain that when they went to bed—even if she didn’t know every move in the book—they’d have a great time because she loved him and wanted to please him. And she enjoyed sex, or at least she thought she would, if she were with the right man. But maybe Dex had taken her reticence as meaning she wasn’t keen on it. Maybe she should have been more open with him about what they were going to do when they finally got to the bedroom.
But she was who she was, and Dex had fallen in love with the shy, uncertain girl—in fact he’d told her he adored her relative innocence, and that she cleansed him and brought light into his life where before there had been only darkness. There was no point in trying to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.
She gave Jasmine a bright smile. “I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s just me being me, you know what I’m like.”
“I wish you didn’t have this horrid case to go through,” Jasmine said.
“Yeah, me too.” Honey checked her watch. “And unfortunately, it’s time to go back there now. But thanks for lunch.”
The sisters hugged.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Jasmine whispered in her ear. “You’re so lovely, Honey, you deserve to be happy.”
Honey smiled and kissed her goodbye, then began the short walk to the courthouse. But Jasmine’s words played in her head. You deserve to be happy. The trouble was, not everyone got what they deserved, or Sarah Green wouldn’t be the one on trial.
Chapter Thirteen
Dex was working at his computer when the sergeant stuck his head around the door and said, “Someone to see you.”
Dex looked up, his heart pounding at the thought that it might be Cathryn. “Who is it?”
“Dunno. But he’s got a cup of coffee for you, lucky bastard.”
Koro? Dex rose, surprised, and walked through the station to the front desk to see Cam Summers standing in the doorway, looking up at the pink and red begonia in the baskets hanging to either side of the building.
Dex opened the safety door and walked across the empty waiting room. Honey’s father had never come to see him at the station before. “Hey, what are you doing here? Is Honey okay?”
Cam turned. He held a takeaway cardboard cup in his hand and offered it to Dex. “She’s fine—far as I know. Brought you a coffee.”
“Thanks.” Dex took it and sipped it. Piping hot latte, just what the doctor ordered. “Great, I appreciate it.”
Cam looked back out at the baskets. “Got a minute?”
“Sure.” Dex’s stomach rumbled nervously as he followed his father-in-law-to-be out of the station and across the neatly tended lawns to a quiet spot. Cam was a big guy, several inches taller than him, and built like a cart horse, although you’d never have guessed it from his temperament. He was a gentle giant and Dex had never seen him lose his temper, although Honey had told him she’d once watched him put his fist through a wall after arguing with Marama.
They stood for a moment in companionable silence. Cam closed his eyes and Dex did the same. The March sun—hanging onto late summer by its fingernails—warmed his face, and the smell of the begonias made him think of evenings by the pool with Honey and her family, and walking with her by the river under the light of the moon.
Hopefully, he had many, many such evenings to come after they were married. If only he didn’t have this guilt sitting in his stomach like stodgy food, he would have thought himself the happiest man on earth.
He opened his eyes as a shadow fell across his face. Clouds bunched together over the sun, threatening rain. He’d checked the weather every day that week, trying to see if Saturday would be clear. So far the weathermen had promised sunshine. He hoped they were right—he wanted it to be perfect for Honey.
“So how’s things?” Cam asked.
Dex glanced across at him. “Okay I guess. A bit nervous.”
“That’s to be expected.” Cam turned his stormy-blue eyes on Dex. “You still want to marry my daughter then?”
“Of course. More than anything.”
“So I’m not to think anything of the fact that you were seen kissing another woman in plain view of State Highway Ten?”
Dex’s heart seemed to shudder to a stop.
For a long, long moment, the two men stared at each other, Cam’s gaze hard, searching, Dex’s presumably radiating the horror he felt inside.
“I don’t know what to say,” Dex said eventually, his voice little more than a whisper. “I’d say it didn’t mean anything, but I know that’s no excuse.”
Cam said nothing, just studied him thoughtfully.
Dex’s chest tightened at the thought that Cam was going to go home and tell Honey, and it was going to make her cry.
Cam frowned and he let out a long, frustrated sigh. He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled Dex around the corner, out of sight of the front desk.
Dex’s chest heaved as he struggled to control his emotions. He’d ruined it—he’d ruined everything. He was so fucking stupid.
“Calm down, son,” Cam said. “I’m not going to tell her.”
Dex glanced up at him, confused and disbelieving.
“But you’re going to have to explain to me what happened,” Cam said.
Dex pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, then ran his hands through his hair. “It was Cathryn,” he said hoarsely, the words tumbling out like marbles from a bag, hard and cold. “She turned up outside the school after I’d been there to do my careers talk. I panicked—I thought someone might see her, or see us talking, so I told her to get in the car. She said she just wanted to say hi and could we go for a coffee or something. I didn’t know what to do with her. I drove out to the café on State Highway Ten and bought her a coffee, but as soon as I’d done it, I couldn’t drink mine. I felt like I’d swallowed a billiard ball.”
“What did she want?” Cam asked.
“I don’t know. I still don’t know. She said she came here to visit a cousin, but she knew I was getting married. I think she might have come here to stop the wedding.” Surprisingly, Dex felt relieved to have told someone. The panic had burrowed into his chest like an insect, and for the first time his heart lightened at sharing the news.
“What is she going to do?” Cam said.
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
“Why did you kiss her?”
Fresh tears of frustration and anger filled Dex’s eyes. He looked across the road to the supermarket, watching people struggling to their cars with bags of heavy shopping. How could everything be so normal when his world was falling apart?
“She taunted me,” he said, his voice low. “I told her—by mistake—that Honey and I hadn’t
slept together, and she started going on about us, things we used to do… It made me angry. I left that life behind and I thought I’d moved on, but she made me feel that some of the darkness still remains inside me. She grabbed me and kissed me and, for one second, I didn’t stop her.” He looked back at Cam, his eyes blurry. “It was only a second, but I know it’s not an excuse, and I know I did wrong. I’ve hated myself for it ever since.”
“You still love Honey?”
“Of course. I know I’ve screwed up. I love her so much, Cam, it’s killing me to think I’ve hurt her…”
To his surprise, Cam reached out and rested a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Calm down,” Cam said, sounding amused. “You haven’t committed murder. Or even been unfaithful. You haven’t hurt Honey—yet. And you won’t, because she’s not going to find out.”
Dex blew out a long, slow breath. “Okay.”
“At least I’m not going to tell her. And neither will Koru. It was a friend of his who saw you and told him, you know.”
Dex closed his eyes. “Fuck.”
“Fuck indeed.”
“Is he angry?”
“He wanted to cut off your dick and stuff it in your mouth. I managed to persuade him otherwise.” Cam continued to sound amused.
Disappointment swept over Dex. His shoulders sagged. He couldn’t believe Koru had seen him. “Why aren’t you going to tell her?” he whispered.
Cam studied him thoughtfully. “Because she’s had a hell of a time in the past, and this is the happiest I’ve seen her in years. Because she’s crazy about you and, in spite of all this, I think you’re crazy about her. And because I sincerely believe that, deep down, you’re a good man, and you want to do well by her. I think you’ll be faithful to her, and you’ll look after her.”
“I will,” Dex croaked.
“Because if you don’t, I’ll let Koru loose on you.” Cam’s eyes glittered.
Dex looked at his feet, remembering Koru’s tale of what he’d done to Ian Mc-Fucking-Idiot. “How mad is he?”
Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) Page 8
