Decline (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #1)

by Michelle Irwin

  Of all the fucking shitty luck I had; only I could end up stuck on a plane next to the very reason I was leaving the country.

  The plane vibrated as it raced faster and faster down the runway. The sensation set me on edge. I wasn’t a bad flyer necessarily, but I figured it would be just my luck to crash on take-off or something equally as crappy. When the vibration increased to a bounce, I instinctively reached for the armrest, ready to dig my fingernails in and hold on for grim life. Only Alyssa had beaten me to the one between our seats. My hand grazed hers before I pulled it back. She turned her head away and moved her hand to her lap. When her hand was gone, I moved mine back. There was no point neither of us using the damn thing.

  Once we were settled in the air, she pulled out her magazine and I could have sworn a small smirk crossed her lips as she looked at the cover.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed myself back against the seat. Fucking great!

  She buried her face into the magazine, holding it up so every time I looked at her all I saw was myself sandwiched between two strangers whose names I didn’t even fucking remember. Their faces were blurred and unrecognisable both in the photo and in my mind.

  I don’t know what compelled me, but I had to speak to Alyssa again, if only to dispel whatever thoughts she must have been having reading that trash.

  “You can’t believe everything you read,” I whispered to her conspiratorially.

  She dropped the magazine onto her lap. “Oh really? So you’re not really a megalomaniac arse who finds it impossible to keep your pants on? And you’re not more interested in screwing random women than you are in doing your job properly?” she replied in a curt tone.

  Ouch. I deserved it, but it still hurt to have the confirmation that she thought so little of me. I’d somehow managed to convince myself that after I’d left, she would just hold onto the memory of what we’d had. That she wouldn’t look for anything else about me—that she’d care enough to forget me and ignore whatever mistakes I made. It was clear I’d been wrong.

  I glanced around, wondering how long it would be before the cabin crew started to serve the drinks, because I desperately fucking needed one—or ten. It would be the easiest solution to my current situation—just get so shitfaced that I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. It fixed almost everything else in my life, or at least made the crap more manageable. This wouldn’t be any different.

  “Josh is still a huge fan,” she said, with a sarcastic edge to her voice. A definite smirk twisted her lips. Was she enjoying my obvious discomfort that much?

  “Yeah, I heard.” It slipped out before I thought about what I was saying.

  She froze. “What do you mean you heard?”

  Fuck. ”I was in the newsagents when I heard his voice.”

  “I didn’t see you there.”

  I scoffed. “You really think I’m going to show my face anywhere near Josh? I’m not a complete fucking idiot. What would I even say to him? ‘Hey man, how’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since the day you beat the shit out of me. Wanna give it another go?’”

  For a moment, her face was aghast, but then she chuckled. To my ear, it sounded forced and nervous, but maybe that was just the way she laughed these days. How was I supposed to know? It wasn’t like I knew anything about her anymore.

  “There are some benefits to having a big brother like him. He keeps the fuckheads away at least.”

  My smile fell to form a scowl. We’d almost had a civil conversation—our first conversation at all in almost four years—and she’d used the opportunity to call me a fuckhead. It was no less than I deserved, but still . . .

  I turned my body away from her and stared out into the aisle instead. Despite picking a random spot and devoting my entire focus to it, I heard her laughter behind me. I didn’t want to know what she found so fucking funny, but inch by inch my body betrayed me and drifted back toward her to see what it was about.

  “Did I offend you?” she asked when I caught her gaze. Her lip twitched and I frowned. The action made her laugh louder.

  “Why the fuck would you think that?” My voice was ice and steel. I didn’t want to talk to her. She obviously didn’t want to talk to me either. I didn’t know why we were wasting each other’s time—aside from the fact that neither of us could escape.

  “Yeah, because the way you just turned away from me wasn’t a dead giveaway.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned away again.

  “You’re acting like a three-year-old, you know.”

  I resisted the urge to twist my head and poke my tongue out at her.

  “Look, I don’t need this,” she snapped. “Frankly, I couldn’t care less whether you’re offended or not. I’m not sitting here to please Declan Reede. I just thought I should try to be pleasant, considering it looks like we’re stuck together for the better part of a day.”

  She pulled out her purse and grabbed a small box of pills.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “None of your business,” she snapped back.

  “Maybe not,” I said. “But I’m still curious.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. I could almost hear her counting in her head as if it would ease her frustration. “If you must know, they’re sleeping pills. I had them prescribed for this trip. It just struck me that spending as much as possible of the next ten hours unconscious seems like a pretty good option considering the alternative.”

  “The alternative being me, the megalomaniac arse? Or as you implied, the fuckhead.”

  Her lip twitched. “I thought that much was pretty clear.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, are you sure you can trust me to keep my pants on?”

  “Who would know?” she asked. She took a deep breath and glanced at me again. Buried in her gaze was a pain I didn’t understand. “You’re still making friends I see,” she said after a moment.

  At first, I thought she was referring to the magazine again, but her gaze was locked on my face. Oh right . . . my black eye. A mirthless chuckle slipped from me as I touched my fingers to the swollen skin and winced. “Yeah. My co-driver wasn’t too impressed by my performance at Bathurst.”

  “Right.” She nodded and her fake half smile was back in place. It was as if she had a mask she’d slipped on to hide her feelings. I hated it, only I wasn’t sure why. It was only her eyes that gave away any emotion at all, and that was pain. “What’s up with that anyway? You’ve crashed out of the last, what, five meets?”

  What the fuck? How does Alyssa “I Hate Cars” Dawson even know that?

  After a moment, I remembered. The bloke she’d been with at Queensland Raceway. He’d obviously changed her in ways I never could. It must have been fucking love if he’d turned her around to the point where she actually knew how many rounds I’d crashed out of. At that thought, the coffee I’d forced down twisted in my stomach until I was certain I was going to retch. The image of her lips on his seared into my brain and raced down my spine in a shiver.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why what?” I snapped as I was forced back to the present by the sound of her voice.

  “Why do you think you’ve been crashing?”

  “If I fucking knew don’t you think I would have stopped by now?” My tone was still harsher than I’d intended, mostly because the vision I’d had of her kissing that other fucker had twisted into something more in my mind. I swallowed hard to force down the bile that rose in my throat.

  “Sorry for asking.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “You, uh, ended up in hospital after the last one, didn’t you?”

  I scoffed. “That wasn’t the crash.” I pointed to my black eye. “That was Morgan.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Why does Morgan do anything?” I laughed as memories of Morgan’s past exploits ran through my mind. Even though he’d delivered the blow that had landed me in hospital, I couldn’t stay pissed at him for it—I’d have done the sa
me if the roles were reversed.

  “You were in hospital. How can you be so blasé about it?” Even though I didn’t see what business it was of hers, Alyssa seemed aghast at the idea.

  “It’s just the way it is between us.”

  “What happened to you, Dec?”

  I frowned at the way she said the words, as though my not being pissed at him was something terrible. “What do you mean what happened? I’m living my fucking dream.”

  She nodded and her lip quivered. “Of course. How could I forget?”

  Turning away from me, she ended the conversation.

  After a while, she sighed and reached for the box of pills. She slid out one of the blister packs.

  “I’d really rather you didn’t do that,” I murmured before she could pop the tablet out onto her hand.

  “Like I said before, it’s hardly your business. I don’t see why it matters to you. It doesn’t affect your dream after all.” She was clearly exasperated with me. I wasn’t sure I could blame her.

  “Because I have a problem with gratuitous drug use.” I didn’t feel ready to spill all the gory details. She didn’t need to know them. Considering I’d likely never see her again after we stepped off the plane, there was no need for her to ever know. “Those things are addictive.”

  “Well, it’s my body.”

  “Your body is a temple.” The instant the words were out, I realised the possible double meaning. Holy fuck—I did not just say that to her.

  “Really? Well, I can see how well you treat your temple.” She pointed to the magazine cover. “I guess you practise open worship?”

  Now it was my turn to blush. “Fuck! You know what? Whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want,” I muttered as I turned away from her again.

  The silence enveloped us both. It called to me, tempting me to say something more and not just let the moment rest.

  With a sigh, I turned back to her. “What I meant is that you’ve got to look after your body. Too many of those things and you won’t be able to get sleep naturally.” I should know, I added in my mind. “Why don’t you at least wait? You can’t need sleep, it’s still only morning. I promise that even though you’re stuck here next to me, I’ll try and keep out of your way as much as I can. If you really can’t sleep later, take them then.” I was beginning to ramble. Not good. “Just don’t use them only to avoid talking to me.” Please? I couldn’t voice the word; she didn’t owe me favours.

  She didn’t answer, but she did lean over to her bag, I assumed to put the pills back away. I smiled slightly at my small victory.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She nodded, but rubbed her fingers against her temples. Her eyes seemed damp, her lashes sticky. The sight burned my insides. Something was wrong, and I wanted to question her about it. She didn’t owe me an explanation though, and to ask for one would just open up a can of worms too big to be able to close again after the end of our journey.

  “Are you just going to Hong Kong?” I asked after a brief pause.

  She shook her head. “London.”

  My heart leapt at the word, even though it shouldn’t have.

  “You?” she asked a moment later.

  “Same.”

  “Do—do you think we’ll be sitting together on the next flight?”

  I couldn’t tell whether her tone was hopeful or fearful. My throat was sticky and dry as I grabbed my boarding pass for the next leg. “Only one way to know.”

  Instead of demanding that she show me hers in exchange, I just handed my pass over to her. She compared it to her own and frowned. I wondered whether the frown was because she wouldn’t be seated next to me, or because she would. I was almost afraid to ask, but I needed to know. Maybe she wouldn’t be beside me. My chest ached a little at the thought of losing her so soon.

  “So?” I found the word eventually.

  With shaking fingers, she handed the boarding pass back to me. “Looks like we’re in this for the long haul.”

  Her words dredged up ancient memories of the reasons I’d left Brisbane. I hadn’t wanted the long haul—I’d wanted the freedom to pursue my choice in career. As if her words had reminded her of similar things, she wrapped her arms around her legs and stared out the window.

  We sat in silence for a while. I was doing my best to fulfil my promise of pretending I wasn’t there, but it was impossible. The familiar bubble which always seemed to encapsulate us whenever we were alone was back in force, pressing on me and urging me to speak to her. While I sifted through topics, trying to find something that might be safe to discuss, I remembered something. A curiosity. Josh’s words at the airport. I tried to push it out of my mind, but it nudged back. Finally, after who knows how many minutes of silence, I turned back to her.

  “Who’s Phoebe?”

  She looked at me with wide, startled eyes. Her hands traced into her long, dark locks before finding the ends. Her breathing sped as she twisted her hair relentlessly around her fingers. “What?”

  “At the airport, when you were leaving the newsagency, Josh said something about a Phoebe.”

  Alyssa’s gaze darted away from me as if searching for an escape. “She’s . . .” A sigh crossed her lips and she closed her eyes. “No one you know.”

  I could tell that Alyssa was going to say something else before her evasive answer, which piqued my curiosity even more. “Is she like a girlfriend or something?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Declan. I was so ruined after you, I knew no men would ever compare, so I turned into a lesbian.”

  Even though I knew she was being sarcastic, a part of me was turned on by the thought of Alyssa with another girl. I’d had enough experience with multiple girls to know how hot it could be—especially if it was Alyssa.

  Stop! There was no doubt if I lingered on that image for too long, I’d be in urgent need of a trip to the loo.

  “No, I meant of Josh’s,” I said.

  She laughed.

  “What’s so funny about that question?”

  “I just couldn’t imagine Josh dating.”

  My confusion must have been clear on my face.

  “He’s married. Has been for about three and a half years now.”

  “What?” I couldn’t deny that her revelation surprised me. He’d been dating a stuck-up cow the last time I’d seen Alyssa. He must have moved on pretty quick, unless . . . “To Ruby?” I asked incredulously.

  She smiled. “The one and only.”

  “That sucks for you.” Alyssa and Ruby had never gotten along.

  “Actually, not really. She and I get along great now.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, apparently she used to question my taste in men. She doesn’t have the same problem anymore.”

  “So she had a problem with me?” I snapped. Fucking bitch.

  Alyssa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that. She has the same high opinion of you as Josh does.”

  “Is there anyone in your family who doesn’t hate me?”

  She shrugged. “None that immediately spring to mind.”

  I guessed that I shouldn’t have been surprised, what with the way I’d left things, but it was pretty fucking nice to have it confirmed so bluntly.

  “How are things back home anyway? What’s everyone been doing?” Surprisingly, I found myself wanting to talk to Alyssa, more and more with every passing second, but I couldn’t think of any decent topics of conversation that wouldn’t end in an argument. Old friends and reminiscing about the way things used to be seemed a safe-ish topic—providing I avoided the topic of us at least.

  She shrunk away from me and frowned. “Good.”

  “Just good?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  Her frown deepened, but she didn’t say anything else.

  I twisted to face her. “Seriously, that’s it? I’ve been away for four years now, and all you’ve got for me is good?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “You’re the one who left, Dec. You’re the one wh
o doesn’t check in with anyone. What do you want me to say?”

  “But surely something’s happened since high school? Someone’s gotten married, had kids, something?”

  “Don’t you talk to your mum?” Her voice was quiet, reserved. Her body curled inward, as if she wanted to get as far from me as she possibly could in the small space.

  I shrugged. “Sure, but not about home.”

  “I guess your life is much too interesting to care about those of us who were left behind in the backwater town you grew up in.” Her voice rose higher with each word. No doubt the result of four years of repressed feelings.

  I scowled at her. Just because I’d been slightly cordial, she had obviously decided to make a big deal out of the fact that I was successful in the ways she’d doubted I could ever be. “It’s not like that, and you know it. All I wanted to know was whether there was some hometown scandal that might offer up a few minutes of conversation in this long-arse plane trip so that we didn’t end up talking about the fucking obvious white elephant.”

  “Fuck you, Declan.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t sit here and ask me about the town fucking scandals when you have no fucking clue what’s been going on in anyone’s life but your own. You can’t talk about white fucking elephants when it’s obvious you don’t even care let alone know anything real. Do you have a single clue what I’ve been doing for the last four years? Did you even care enough to ask anyone about me at all? I could have died for all you cared, you arse. You don’t have to answer, because I know you never once even checked in to see if anything major had happened to me!” She was screaming by the end of her tirade and tears welled in her eyes before spilling onto her cheeks.

  The flight attendant came over to her. “Excuse me, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down. You’re disrupting the other passengers.”

  “Fine. Sorry.” Alyssa’s face was burning red and her voice was clipped but apologetic.