The Deep End

by AM Hartnett

  Grace touched her tongue to her teeth as realisation crept in. ‘You watch, don’t you? In the guesthouse, you practically pushed me out of the way to turn off that monitor – the one with the house.’ He didn’t say anything, and so she prompted him. ‘How long have you been watching?’

  ‘Since Bette died. He was so small and funny when he was little. The first time the cameras came on, he was in one of those little pools shaped like a turtle with his friends. He looks just like Bette did when she was young. You’ve seen the pictures in the book. He’s a teenager now and still small for his age, but give him a few more years and he’ll shoot up. I don’t usually have the monitor on, but when I do it’s for days. I can’t stop watching.

  ‘That’s why I can’t feel anything, Grace,’ he said in a breathless rush. ‘It’s not that I’m incapable. It’s just that if I feel something, I have to feel everything. If I let that part of myself open up, I don’t know what’s going to come out, and so I just … I can’t.’

  It was so wrong, but how could she explain that to a man like this? Someone who had literally been ripped up and was still surviving the aftermath? She couldn’t. There was nothing she could say. There was nothing in her life that compared to what he had been through.

  Taureau bowed his head. His nostrils flared and his chest pulsed beneath her hand. She could almost see the fight inside him, those emotions he refused to acknowledge scratching like thorns against his sense of self-preservation.

  She scooted to the edge of the sofa and pulled him closer, until her knees bumped his ribcage. Taureau splayed his hands across her back, so big and warm, and closed the gap between them.

  ‘I want you here,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘More than I can tell you, but I can never be a man who gives you all of himself. I’m not strong enough for that.’

  ‘I’m not –’ she began, intending to tell him that she wasn’t asking for anything from him, but that wouldn’t be the truth.

  She wanted, but she couldn’t define what it was she wanted.

  ‘I didn’t come here to fix you,’ she whispered, and meant it. ‘I’m not that woman, and if deep down that’s what you were hoping to find in me I’m sorry, but you’ll be disappointed.’

  ‘I don’t know what I wanted from you by bringing you here.’ He sent a shiver through her as he stroked down her back. ‘Stay with me a little longer. I won’t ask you to remain in stasis like this for ever, but I will ask you to stay a little longer …’

  He closed the thin gap between them, and crushed her against his body. His grip became so tight it was as though he was trying to stamp out the bad feelings, to bully them from his skin and hers.

  Grace tilted her head to kiss him, but instead found herself clinging to him as he lifted her from the sofa. Arms wrapped around his neck, ankles locked behind his back, she was carried with her ass cradled in his hands from the television room to the back bedroom where she had spent her first night alone.

  He set her down and withdrew, and she could barely see a thing in the darkness as he hovered over her. There was only his closeness and the pulse of his breathing. He stroked her hair, and Grace fumbled for his wrist.

  ‘Don’t,’ she hissed at him. ‘Don’t treat me like we’re both breakable now, or ever. That’s not what either one of us needs, or what either one of us wants. You know what you do to me. You know what I want you to do to me. Don’t stop it now.’

  When she finished talking, Taureau’s stillness endured. The house was uncanny in its silence. No board creaked and no appliance clicked. There was only the ticking of her heart beating in tune with Taureau’s pulse beneath her fingers.

  She eased her grip on his wrist and relaxed into the mattress. Compliance washed through her in a calming wave, and she felt again the heat that had been with her since that first moment in the boardroom when he ordered her to lift her skirt.

  And without a sound he answered her with his body. He shifted his weight, pressing his groin against hers.

  ‘Take my cock out.’

  Yes … Jacques.

  She didn’t say it this time. She only wanted to feel, to fuck and be fucked. She reached down and Taureau raised his hips and gave her enough room to unbutton his fly. As quickly as she could, Grace shoved his cargo pants to mid-thigh and drew her knees up to open for him.

  The second she poised the tip of his cock where it belonged, Taureau closed her in. He sprawled against her and buried his shaft into the wet crevice that had been his and his alone for the last few weeks, and once more his forehead pressed upon hers.

  Grasping the bedding around her head, Grace tucked her feet above his ass and was grateful for his body pushing against hers, inside hers, to stamp out the pressure his revelation had created.

  He didn’t speak, though as he began to pump in and out of her pussy she heard a low throaty sound, coinciding with every thrust. Only when the sound exploded into a gasp did Grace realise that it was she who made that desperate little sound.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Grace was coming out of the shower the next morning, the smell of cigarette smoke drifted under the towel draped over her head. She looked up and jumped back at the sight of a man sitting on the edge of her bed.

  ‘Reeve!’ She leaned back against the doorjamb, hand at her throat. ‘What the fuck?’

  ‘You still refuse to call me Simon,’ he said, tapping ash from the end of his cigarette into the glass dish on the bed next to him.

  ‘It’s a habit I can’t break,’ she said, and resumed scrubbing her hair dry. ‘And I’ll thank you not to smoke that in here. It’ll stink up the whole house.’

  ‘Aren’t we the lady of the manor now?’ He took one last drag and stubbed it out, then chuckled as she shimmied out of the bath towel around her torso. ‘Tell me you at least dress yourself when you’re lounging about the house.’

  ‘I rarely lounge about, and I do dress myself, but I see no point in being modest in front of someone whose face I once sat on.’ She draped her towels behind the door and went to the dresser. ‘He’s still gone, is he?’

  ‘For at least another twenty minutes. I timed my entry in case you wanted to make a clean break.’

  Grace frowned as she squirted hair de-frizzer into her palm. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Your message. “I’m ready to leave,” it said.’

  Making a squelching fist around the gel, Grace pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth as the little chill of dread passed through her. ‘I didn’t think I hit send. I must have done it accidentally.’

  Reeve didn’t say anything as she ran her hands through her damp hair, nor when she slipped into her bra and panties. Grace kept her back to him as she dug into the dresser for something to wear.

  She’d typed the words into her phone, but she hadn’t sent it, or so she thought. She cursed the sensitive touchscreen as she pulled out a shirt-dress, then as she buttoned up she cursed herself for even typing the words.

  ‘Did you tell him?’ she asked as soon as the devastating thought came to her. Her blood seemed to thin in her veins at the mere thought of Taureau learning second-hand that she had genuinely considered leaving him, especially now that he’d shared such a painful part of himself with her.

  ‘It’s not up to me,’ he said, and, after another moment, ‘Did you have a change of heart?’

  ‘I did.’ She pulled the belt taut around her waist and looped it, then turned. ‘I had a moment when I wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to stay. It came and it went, and now it’s over. I’m sorry you came this far, though you could have sent a message back.’

  ‘I didn’t want to press you. You called, I came. That’s how it works.’

  ‘And now you’ll, what? Just go back?’

  He shook his head as he got up. ‘Since I’m here, I might as well meet with Jacques about this thing with his father. You were here when Dominic showed up, I understand.’

  ‘I was.’ She stepped into her flats. ‘I coul
dn’t tell whether he thought I was a gold-digger or a prostitute.’

  ‘Knowing Dominic, I’d say the latter. He doesn’t think highly enough of Jacques to believe anyone would want him even for his money.’

  She didn’t say anything in response. She was in complete agreement, but she didn’t need to hash out what a bastard Dominic Taureau was, and Reeve didn’t seem keen to explore the topic either.

  She returned to the dresser and clipped her damp hair behind her head, then turned. ‘Come on. I could use a second pot of coffee.’

  ‘Decaf tea for me, actually. It’s in the pantry.’

  ‘Good God, how do you stay awake during your jet-setting without caffeine?’

  ‘I have an espresso in the morning at around five thirty, after I finish a run. After that, I keep things clean.’

  ‘And yet you smoke,’ she noted as she led him into the kitchen.

  ‘I only smoke when I’m here at The Convent House. It wouldn’t seem right if I didn’t, so I have my cigarettes. He left her in the kitchen, hung his coat on the hook next to the door and peered out as he straightened his cuffs. ‘Did he let you up there?’

  ‘I let myself up once, just to have a look. He didn’t throw me out, but I haven’t been back.’

  ‘Did you watch any of the discs?’

  Does he mean, did you watch the disc?

  ‘We were too distracted by revisiting my own digital history on his computer to look at the other discs.’

  ‘He won’t keep any of you and him together. That’s not what he does when he brings others here. He abhors being on camera himself.’

  Others.

  Grace kept her mouth shut as she filled the kettle.

  ‘How many others have there been?’

  ‘A few, but only one long-term visitor. Me.’

  Grace kept her gaze on the countertop as the question bubbled to the surface. ‘Were you lovers?’

  Reeve smirked. ‘You don’t show a thing on your face when you feel something. It’s like a shimmer, like light reflecting so fast you can’t tell whether you saw it or not.’

  ‘There’s no need to make fun of me,’ she retorted and placed the kettle on the burner. ‘I knew you were from his past. You told me that yourself. I knew you had been here when you both were teenagers. You might as well go on, since you’re clearly dying to tell me. Well, were you?’

  He waited while she switched on the coffee pot, then he spoke. ‘I suppose there could have been some experimentation with each other if we hadn’t been too busy trying to get the girls on their backs. We got older and wilder. We shared, we joined in, but we never went solo. I suppose the window of opportunity had passed by the time I overdosed and had to dry out here.’

  Reeve’s tone seemed to hold nothing but matter-of-factness, and it struck Grace that she had this in common with him. She wondered if this was a trait that specially appealed to Taureau, who had grown up in a world where everyone around him was trying to trade a compliment for a favour.

  She wondered if Bette, the only other notable in his history that she knew of, had also shared this trait.

  ‘Is this place where people go when they fall apart?’

  ‘I guess you could say it is. It is the perfect escape, isn’t it? Do you want to hear more?’ Grace nodded, and Reeve seemed to relax into himself a little. ‘I went to rehab on his dime, but when my three months were up, instead of being pushed back into the world where he knew I would just relapse, Jacques brought me here. I guess you could say he exploited our friendship by saying he needed me here. He knew I wouldn’t say no. So I came here and there were just the two of us.’

  ‘But you weren’t lovers.’

  ‘I get the feeling you’d be more than a little excited if I ’fessed up, Grace.’ He laughed. ‘Even if either of us was so inclined, towards the end I sort of saw us as prisoners together. We formed that sort of bond that came out of being trapped together. For different reasons, neither one of us was prepared to deal with the world outside, until one day I felt ready to do it.’

  ‘And so you just left?’

  He folded his hands in front of him and gave them all his attention. His voice dropped to a murmur as he went on. ‘And I just left. In the morning I told him I was going home, and he just nodded and told me that it was for the best.’

  A crushing feeling came over her. Was that how it would end with Taureau when they were finished? Would she simply leave?

  ‘You can leave any time,’ he went on. ‘That’s what makes you different. You’re not hiding here. You’re not crippled by anything.’

  ‘Why do I feel like you want to add “yet” to that statement?’

  ‘It will get to you eventually. I doubt it will take six months.’ He leaned back and held her gaze for a moment.

  He was right, she realised. It wasn’t that she expected anything from Taureau. She hadn’t been lying to him, but in that lack of expectation was the same frustration as following a long, winding path and wondering how much longer she would have to walk before coming to something.

  Grace suddenly resented Reeve’s bringing it up, and when he asked his next question she bit her tongue to hold in her misdirected anger.

  ‘Are you sure you want to stay?’

  She nodded, then glanced at him. He looked as though he was waiting for more than just that. ‘Yes, I’m sure. I may not have the endurance to stay six months, but I’ll be damned if I scurry off after barely two.’

  ‘Do you want me to leave?’

  Yes.

  She wanted to go back twenty-four hours, before she typed that message and accidentally sent it. She wanted to go back before Dominic Taureau darkened the kitchen door. She wanted to be where she was the previous morning when she woke up in Taureau’s huge bed, arms and legs tangled with his, his warmth closing around her as he stirred and drew the blanket over their shoulders.

  In those moments, life wasn’t complicated; it was just the way it was supposed to be.

  ‘I don’t want to chase you off,’ she lied. She poured out her coffee. ‘I don’t want you to stay long, and I don’t want to discuss your reason for being here any longer. Besides, something tells me that he would take your presence like a spitting tomcat after the last time all three of us were together – so to speak.’

  A smirk twisted one side of Reeve’s mouth and he leaned back in his stool. She watched him twist his tie loose and a question popped into her head.

  ‘It’s too bad,’ he said. ‘It could be interesting.’

  ‘I’m sure it would, and not necessarily in a good way.’ She leaned forward and regarded him curiously. ‘What would you have done if I hadn’t agreed to have dinner with you that night?’

  ‘Was there ever a chance of that happening?’

  The last of the tension broke in Grace’s laugh as she took the kettle off the burner. ‘I don’t know whether to take that as a remark about my active sex life or about your conceit.’

  ‘I was thinking more in terms of our respective success records. You have to admit that, even without all the business, if I had had another reason to come to the Toronto office for a meeting with Caroway, we still would have ended up in your apartment.’

  ‘You’re probably right about that. It’s funny how things work out, isn’t it? You could have just been another man passing through my bed, and Jacques would have just been a name on the letterhead.’ She brought him his teacup and sipped her coffee as she watched him dunk the bag into the water until it was a mossy green.

  Taureau made his return about twenty minutes later, just as she and Reeve were running out of things to talk about.

  As soon as Taureau passed through the door, unzipping his leather jacket, he acknowledged Reeve with a nod.

  ‘That was fast.’

  ‘I was on my way back from St John’s when I got your email,’ he lied.

  ‘Is that fresh?’ Taureau asked Grace, gesturing towards the coffee pot, and when she nodded he moved to prepare himself a cup.
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br />   Reeve leaned forward. ‘I thought I might talk you out of it.’

  ‘Then you’ve wasted a trip. Make it go away, but do it tactfully and gently.’

  ‘Give the girl a talking-to and a ride to the clinic? Hold her hand when it’s over?’

  The acid in both men’s tones made Grace get up and put her empty cup in the sink. ‘I don’t think I need to listen to this.’

  ‘There’s nothing to listen to,’ Taureau said, but the glare between himself and Reeve didn’t abate. He took a slurp from his cup, then ran his hands through his hair. ‘I need a shower. You can talk at me some more when I’m finished, but there’s no point. You might as well move on.’

  ‘Grace has invited me for lunch,’ Reeve said cheerfully, ‘and, judging by the state of her ass and thighs, and that contraption I spotted hanging from the tree out there, she’s due for a break.’

  Taureau stood unmoving, cup to his lips, and looked at Grace. The question on his face made her feel like apologising. She’d been on the mark: Taureau didn’t want Reeve sticking around.

  Reeve laughed and cocked his head at his friend. ‘Come on. I need social intercourse – and when was the last time you had a cheeseburger and a chocolate-peanut-butter shake from the Dairy Bar?’

  Taureau set his cup back on the counter and walked away.

  ‘Tell them not to skimp on the pickles,’ he called over his shoulder, and disappeared into the hallway. Neither Grace nor Reeve said anything as the heavy tread of his boots grew fainter, and when they stopped altogether she looked at Reeve.

  ‘Dairy Bar?’

  Reeve chuckled and drained the last of his tea. ‘You’re going to have a burger so good you’ll actually punch him in the face for not taking you up there sooner.’

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Grace sat at the counter composing an email to her mother on her phone when she caught sight of Taureau passing the door. At first she gave only a glance, but once her brain registered a bare chest and back she perked up. She quickly finished her message and sent it, then pulled open the aluminium door.