Impact (The Fight for Life #2)

by K. A. Sterritt

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.” He sauntered past both of us towards the kitchen.

  “Mum. What’s up with Dad?”

  “He’s behaving like a silly child.” She raised her eyebrows. “You might look more like me, but you definitely take after your father.”

  The old me would’ve felt belittled by that comment, but now I just took solace in the fact I didn’t take after her.

  Their housekeeper, Jean, had left a casserole in the oven for us, so it was easy enough to just dish out onto three plates and carry through to the dining room. Dad was sitting at his usual place, sipping mineral water.

  “So, why am I here?” I asked when we were seated.

  “I’m really relying on both of you to keep my stress levels to a minimum.” Mum gave both my father and I equal serves of her condescending gaze. “Can I trust you with that small task?”

  “Juliette.” My father ignored her question and looked directly at me. “Before I get into why I called you here tonight, I wanted to tell you I have a new client I’m meeting with tomorrow, thanks to you. A very lucrative client.”

  “Really?” I had absolutely no idea who he could be talking about.

  “Charlie Quinn? He said you met in Dublin and travelled extensively around Europe together.”

  “What?” I coughed and patted my chest, choking on a piece of meat.

  “Son of Charles and Grier Quinn, one of Sydney’s wealthiest families?” my mother asked, and I swore she licked her lips. She turned to me, her attention piqued. “Why didn’t you tell me you met Charlie Quinn?”

  “Mainly because what I do and who I meet is none of your business.” I tried to keep my horror from my tone. I turned to Dad. “I had no idea he was here.”

  “The Quinn family would be an incredible coup for my firm.”

  I glanced at my mother, who looked like she might combust with excitement. “Will you be catching up with him, darling?”

  “Oh my God, Mother.” I shook my head in disgust. “Can you be any more obvious?”

  “I’m just showing some interest in your friends, darling.” She appeared affronted. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

  “Oh, I know all about you showing ‘interest’ in my friends.” I used air quotes to place emphasis on ‘interest’. I wouldn’t take comments like that lying down.

  Bizarrely, my father tapped his fork on his empty wine glass and stood up. “Okay, ladies. I have a few things to say to the both of you.” He looked at me. “Firstly, thank you for coming, Juliette. I know it’s not where you want to be right now, so I want you to know I appreciate it.”

  I didn’t disagree with him. I just nodded.

  “What’s all this about, John?” my mother asked.

  He pushed his chair back and his glasses slipped down his nose a little. He pushed them back up then ran his hand through his thinning hair. “I want you both to know things are going to be different around here from now on.” He glanced between my mother and me. “I know about Richard. I know about the blackmail. I know everything.”

  I dropped my knife and fork. The sound of clanging cutlery hitting my plate was deafening, even over the blood rushing past my ears.

  I looked to Mum and she appeared strangely composed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, John.”

  “Please, Isabel.” He started circling the table. I suddenly felt like Mum and I were on trial. By all accounts, he was formidable in the courtroom and I was starting to see why. “Shhh.” He held his finger up to his mouth and shook his head. “You don’t get to speak now.”

  Mum huffed and puffed but didn’t speak. Keeping the secret from my father had haunted me, and as it turned out, he already knew.

  Dad stopped behind Mum’s chair. “I ignored so many red flags for too long, and that’s on me.” He met my gaze and held up one finger. “The state your mother was in when you turned up here a few months back with Richard. She was meant to be out with a friend. Red flag.” He held up another finger. “Leo showed up a few nights later telling me he’d been blackmailed at gunpoint. He’d just beaten the shit out of Richard, who he’d assumed was the blackmailer. Turned out, it wasn’t Richard. It was your mother.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Mum sobbed. “It wasn’t my—”

  “Isabel.” Dad cut her off, again putting his finger against his lips. “Shh.”

  I was shocked. It must’ve been the night we’d gotten home from the farm after our picnic. We’d gone to bed professing our love, and I’d woken up to him doing a complete one-eighty. “I had no idea he was threatened at gunpoint.” I choked back a sob. “He broke up with me the next day.”

  “It alerted me to the gravity of the situation. I have to say I was impressed by Leo. He was only concerned with ensuring your safety. We were both worried, Juliette. I asked him to give me a few days to sort it all out.”

  I shook my head. He had been trying to protect me, and when he’d tried to explain, I had refused to listen.

  My dad turned to my mum and spoke in his lawyer voice, calm and sure. “I’ve given you far too much rope, Isabel, and you nearly managed to hang yourself with it. You tried to string up your own daughter too, but fortunately we have a strong girl here and she’s weathered it all.” He turned to me. “I turned a blind eye for too long, but not anymore.”

  “Lies.” My mother’s voice was barely a whisper. She looked at me. “All lies.”

  My mother pushed her chair back so hard it toppled backward when she stood up. “I’ve just been stressed, and I’m sure I have diabetes, but everything is absolutely fine now.”

  “Sit down, Isabel. Everything is not fine and you don’t have diabetes. You’ve been tested four times and you need to stop trying to deflect attention from the real issue.” He moved around the table and stopped opposite me, leaning forward and placing both hands on the dark wood. “Your mother has been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.”

  “Nothing borderline about her,” I blurted out, but immediately felt guilty for my insensitive quip.

  “It’s ridiculous,” Mum mumbled. “Bunch of quacks. I have low blood sugar levels.”

  Ignoring both of us, he continued. “She had a clinical assessment done at Dartmoor and we had lengthy discussions with a psychiatrist.”

  “So what is it, exactly?” I asked, realising that I felt relieved to have a name to put to her behaviour.

  “Well, as the name suggests, it’s a personality disorder.” He let out a long sigh. “One of the most marked symptoms is the acute fear of rejection and abandonment.”

  I glanced at my mother, but she was just staring at her food, so I looked back to Dad for further information.

  “She presented a frightening number of the criteria for the diagnosis.” He held up his thumb. “Unexpected actions without considering the consequences.” He added his pointer finger for the second point. “An unstable and capricious mood.” He raised another finger. “Going to excessive lengths to avoid abandonment.” His eyes softened when he met my stunned gaze. “I think we all know who copped the brunt of that symptom.” I thought back to the way my mother had broken down at the mere mention of me travelling and had insisted I be at her events with such intense determination despite telling me I was a disappointment most of the time. I hadn’t ever truly understood why. “And the most concerning of all is the recurrent threats of self-harm or suicide.” Dad hung his head, appearing shameful.

  “You told me the way she behaved was because she’d lost the baby and she’d never fully recovered.”

  “I’m afraid that’s what I always thought and just kept thinking time would heal, but I was wrong and I should’ve acted far sooner than I did to take control of the situation.”

  “Does it explain her…” I felt awkward about what I was going to ask, but felt it needed to be aired. I dropped my eyes to my plate. “Does it explain her affair with Richard?” When he didn’t answer immediately, I dragged my gaze up to meet his.

  My mother
slammed her hand down on the table. “This is preposterous. I’m right here.”

  Ignoring her outburst, my father began speaking. “Since you asked, I will tell you what I’ve learned. It’s not clear cut, but it has been theorised that sufferers of this disorder have reckless sex lives because they feel emotional emptiness and are constantly looking for fulfilment.” He tugged at his collar as if it was restricting his breathing. Understandably, he was struggling with this subject. “It is a way of validating their own self worth.”

  I glanced at my mother who was rolling her eyes dramatically then returned to ask the one question I would also need to ask myself. “Can you forgive her?”

  He gave me a tortured smile. “I’m working on it, sweetheart. I love your mother and I haven’t been the husband she needed for a long time. I haven’t been the father you needed either and I hope to make amends if you’ll let me.”

  I nodded. When I stared at my mother, I felt so many things, but the overwhelming emotion was pity.

  I pushed back my chair and stood up. “I just need to use the bathroom.” I really just needed a breather from the suffocating bombardment of information and some space to process. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I walked briskly from the room and grabbed my bag from the hall table before heading to the downstairs bathroom at the back of the house. I locked the door behind me and reached for my phone. I hit Leo’s number and held it to my ear, waiting to hear the only voice that could bring me any comfort right about now. When I got his voicemail, I waited a few minutes before trying again, but still no answer. We hadn’t parted on great terms, but I didn’t think it warranted ignoring me. I felt frustrated and irritated as I stuffed my phone back in my bag.

  I stood at the marble vanity and stared at my reflection. My lifelong struggle to cope with my mother’s behaviour towards me was over. Her struggle, however, might never be over, and that’s something I would have to come to terms with over time. I knew my compliance over the years could’ve been viewed as spineless and that I should’ve stood up to her long ago, but I knew deep in my gut she wouldn’t have coped and I knew I could. My naïve mistake had been thinking my actions would help her when, in actual fact, I’d simply been an enabler. I had never let it conquer me though, and it wouldn’t define my future. I was strong, I’d always been strong and I’d come out the other side knowing everything I’d done had stemmed from a natural desire a child has to be loved by their mother.

  Mum and Dad both looked at me when I re-entered the dining room and sat back down.

  “Okay. So…” I placed my hands on the table and looked from one to the other. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Richard, Dad, but he had threatened to leak incriminating photos if he lost the Fontaine account.” I stared at my plate. “I should’ve told you.”

  “It’s taken care of. Leo retrieved the hard drive full of photos and video clips as well as the physical copies.”

  My mother placed both her hands over her face. “They were photoshopped. I didn’t do those things with him,” she stated indignantly.

  I cringed, not even wanting to think about what was on that hard drive.

  “Socialite Isabel Fontaine, wife to legal royalty John Salinger, caught in sordid affair with daughter’s boyfriend,” Dad stated. “Do you think it’ll matter if they’re photoshopped or not?” He shook his head. “None of us wants to deal with that kind of scandal.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway,” Mum hissed. “Juliette’s tramping around with a bartending cage fighter. She’s been more than willing to drag us through the mud.”

  “Are you serious?” I was outraged she had the audacity to turn this on me still. “I’ve done everything I can to help you, and you throw it in my face at every turn.”

  “Enough.” My father’s voice boomed. “Richard has been removed from the Fontaine account. He has no leverage to hurt us anymore, so that’s the end of that.” He fixed his gaze on my mother, who appeared unmoved by all of this. “You are on notice, Isabel. Do you understand? You leave Leo and Juliette alone.” He turned to me. “We are going to start seeing a therapist this week. We’re going to try to manage it and move on.”

  I glanced at my watch, and it was much later than I had anticipated. I stood up. I was physically and mentally exhausted and I just wanted to go home. “You’ve both taken your toll on me over the years.” I glanced from my mother to my father. “I need to leave and I won’t be back for a while.” My eyes were filling with tears.

  My father moved around the table to me. “You’re not going to break, sweetheart. You’re the strongest person I know and we love you.”

  I said goodbye and left the house. My mind was spinning, but my heart felt lighter. My dad was right—I was strong.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Leo

  “I’m gonna bail.” Adam half stepped, half stumbled off his stool. Chuckling, he punched me in the arm. “Don’t be a stranger, Leo the lion.”

  “Leo the lion?” I smirked.

  He nodded, a goofy grin on his face. “That’s what the wives call you. They all think you’re dreamy.” He rolled his eyes, gagging.

  “Oh god. Really?”

  “Yep. I’ll tell them you have a girlfriend now to put them all out of their misery.”

  I tried to stand up and shake his hand, but nearly fell off the stool. “Good one, mate. Hey, thanks for coming out to keep me company. Appreciate it.”

  Maeve chuckled as she poured me another shot, shaking her head as she placed it in front of me, and then moved away to another customer. Great company coupled with tequila shots, and oblivion was in sight. I had enough brain cells left to return Jules’s phone call before I succumbed to the drug now flowing freely through my bloodstream.

  I tapped my phone, and after a few clumsy attempts, I managed to call her.

  “I thought you must’ve been asleep.” She sounded tired.

  “I’m out. I’m sorry about earlier, Jules.” I may have slurred a little. Just the sound of her voice made me instantly remorseful and extremely horny.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “I am,” I stated firmly, nodding my head. “I just needed to clock off for a few hours.”

  “What does that mean? Clock off from me?”

  Fuck. I shouldn’t be speaking to her on the phone.

  “No. I want to see you. Can I come to yours?”

  “I’ll pick you up. Where are you?”

  I glanced around the seedy bar and cringed. “I’ll get a cab.”

  “Just tell me where you are, Leo.”

  “St Kilda Tavern. You shouldn’t come here. It’s not safe.”

  “Oh my God. Seriously? Everyone knows that’s a sleazy pickup joint.”

  I ran my hand through my hair, sobering me slightly from her angry words. “There’s no one but you, Jules.” I shook my head, wishing like hell I’d just stayed home. “I promise you.”

  “Be out the front in ten minutes.”

  She hung up, and I really wished I hadn’t had those last few shots.

  “Everything okay?” Maeve purred.

  I looked up and cringed, knowing I hadn’t made myself clear enough. “That was my girlfriend on the phone. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.” The tequila was definitely making me slur my words.

  She threw her head back and laughed. “And here I was convinced we were about to start a committed relationship.” She continued to laugh and I just stared at her. When she stopped, she leaned over the bar. “We’ve only ever been about a good time, not a long time.” She cocked her head to the side and winked. “That works for me. I’m heading out now, so if you change your mind, meet me in the side alley in five minutes.”

  I shook my head, knowing that was exactly what I used to look for. I wasn’t that person anymore, even if tonight I was behaving like it.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, okay? You can do better than this.” Her expression changed in an instant as the colour drained from her face. It was as
if I’d struck a nerve and no one had ever said anything like that to her before. “I’m outta here.”

  I stood up and headed for the exit, swaying more than I had expected. The alcohol had worked its magic dulling my senses, and I hoped I could get the hell out of that bar without falling over. When I got outside, I breathed in the night air, hoping to sober up a little before Jules got there.

  My ears pricked up when I heard shouting coming from the side alley, and when I rounded the corner to check it out, I could see Maeve being pushed roughly up against the wall by a much larger man.

  “Hey,” I called out to get their attention, jogging down the alley, cursing my drunken state. No man should treat a girl that way under any circumstances.

  The large man turned towards me, holding Maeve against the wall with his right hand around her neck.

  “Get your hands off her,” I demanded.

  The arsehole let her go and puffed his chest out.

  “Calm down, Stuart.” Maeve’s voice was quiet and resigned. I suspected this wasn’t the first time she’d found herself in this situation. She put a hand on the man’s arm. “We broke up, remember? You have a wife.”

  “Shut up, you little whore.” He glanced over his shoulder to me. “I saw you flirting with him.”

  I glanced between Maeve and the man who was about to get a lesson in how to treat a woman. Unfortunately, the tequila I’d been drinking like water was going to make for a sketchy lesson at best.

  “Calm down, mate.” I closed the distance between us. “We were just talking. Maeve and I are old friends.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, arsewipe.” He gave me a decisive push in the chest with the palm of his hand. “I’ll put you to the ground faster than you can say you’re a grass-cutting snake.”

  “I’d watch yourself, mate.” My voice was calm.

  “I’m not your fucking mate. I train in Krav Maga, Aikido, Karate and Muay Thai and could show those Israeli commandos a thing or two with my interpretations.” He then assumed a stance I could only describe as a flamingo with constipation. “I take bits and pieces of all of them and have created my own style.” He waved his arms around comically before resuming his flamingo stance.”