by Amanda Dick
She reached for the bottle but he held it away from her.
“Did he hurt you?” he murmured. “Let me see.”
“No, I’m fine, really.”
But he had already put the bottle of pills back on the table and turned towards her. “Show me.”
“Jack, I’m fine. You’re the one who –“
Ignoring her, he leaned forward and reached up to gently pull her sweatshirt aside. She realised it was a waste of time trying to distract him now, so she let him, a shiver running through her as his hand brushed against her neck. As he pulled the neck of her sweatshirt wider, the look on his face said it all.
“Jesus,” he whispered.
She pushed his hands away. “It’s fine.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered brokenly, reaching for her hands and enclosing them in his. “I don’t know what else to say. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“What did happen? I don’t understand. What’s going on? Who were those guys?”
He blew out a long breath through his teeth and shook his head slowly. She waited patiently, taking comfort from his hands on hers and willing him to do the same.
“I made a mistake,” he said finally. “I did something stupid and then I took off. Sound familiar?”
“I still don’t understand. How can you owe ten thousand dollars?”
He tried to pull away but she held fast to his hands, begging him silently for more. He sighed heavily, his body sagging.
“Boxing.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Boxing? Like, fighting?”
“Yeah.”
“But ten thousand dollars? I don’t get it.”
His eyes seemed flat suddenly, as if the light had gone out in them. “I was fighting for this guy Ben, for money. They were running a book on us, taking bets. I wasn’t supposed to win, but I did. I wasn’t thinking straight, it was the night that I found out about Dad, and Callum called… and I guess my mind wasn’t on the fight. I knew I was in trouble, but I figured I’d be safe if I left – no one knew how to find me.” He let go of her hand, grimacing. “Or so I thought, anyway.”
Her mind spun in circles, a million miles an hour. “Fighting? I don’t understand any of this. This is just… it’s not you.”
He shrugged miserably.
“But why? Why would you do that?”
“I don’t expect you to understand any of this because honestly, I don’t really understand it myself,” he admitted. “All I can say is that it happened and I’m sorry it did and I’m sorry you’re involved in this – I really am. I thought that staying at Callum’s would be safe. I thought they’d gone, but apparently I was wrong.”
“What do you mean? You thought who had gone? Those guys? I thought you were staying with him because of a gas leak?”
Jack took on the look of a deer caught in the headlights.
“What’s going on? How long have you known about this?”
“When Callum came over on Sunday, he said he’d been around to the house and found this guy snooping around over there. He said he was looking for me. Callum told him he didn’t know where I was. That’s why I went over to his place – it wasn’t a gas leak Ally, and I’m sorry we lied to you. I thought it’d be best, I didn’t want you to worry. I thought I was doing the right thing. I never meant for you to get involved in any of this.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. Where did it end? The lying, the secrets, the deceit – not only Jack but Callum was in on this too? It was too much. She blinked, the switch in her head shutting off while she dealt with all of this information behind closed doors.
She gathered up the first aid kit, the washcloth and the towel in silence, piling them on her lap and turning away from him. Heading for the bathroom on auto-pilot, she returned the first aid kit to its place in the cabinet and deposited the towel and washcloth into the laundry hamper in the corner. Not sure what to do next, she sat there, her back to the door.
“Ally?”
She sighed, glancing over her shoulder at Jack. “Look at you, you look like you’ve gone ten rounds with Tyson.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” she snapped, whirling around to face him.
“I was trying to protect you.”
She felt the fight leave her, fear and pain replacing it, obliterating everything else. She stared up at him defiantly. “Why does everyone think I need protecting? Am I so pathetic that no one thinks I can take the truth?”
He looked horrified at the prospect. “That’s not it – at all!”
“Isn’t it?”
“I just didn’t want to get you involved in this – I didn’t want you to end up getting hurt again because of me!”
Again with the guilt over the accident.
She fought back tears, determined not to give him another reason not to confide in her.
“I didn’t want you to know how much I screwed up – how much of a mess I made of all this. Here I am, trying to convince you that you can trust me with anything, and all I’ve done is make everything worse!”
“So you just decided to keep it from me?”
“I’m not the only one keeping secrets though, am I?”
Her heart raced. “It’s not the same thing!”
“Sure it is! The thing with the yoga mat, the constantly changing the subject when things get a little close to the truth – you’re shutting me out, too!”
“I’m not!”
“Yes you are, and I don’t blame you, to a degree. I know my track record sucks, but what do I have to do to prove to you that I want to be here, with you? That I’m not just gonna disappear again, no matter what happens?”
She couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that.
“I can take it, Ally, whatever it is you think I can’t handle, I can take it – and much more besides. I’m not going anywhere, I want to be with you! Don’t you get it? Even though I’m screwing up left and right here, I want to be here and I’m not gonna give up. I’m gonna fix this mess and then things are gonna have to change between us, because I don’t want you to keep me at arm’s length anymore, okay?”
Her stomach twisted into a tight knot as she blinked up at him. Did he have any idea what he was asking her to do?
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, if you promise to do the same,” he said. “But you have to promise me. Agreed?”
Her head swam. As broken and tired as he looked, he practically glowed with desperation.
“Okay.”
He closed the gap between them, grimacing as he knelt in front of her to take her hands. “It’s just a little blip on the radar, I’m gonna fix this. Everything’s gonna be fine, you’ll see.”
She nodded, her hands trembling in his, her body threatening to follow suit. He pulled her into his arms and she found herself burying her head into his shoulder as she tried to shut out the idea that they were being watched.
“Stay here with me tonight?” she begged, her noble intentions disappearing in a flood of fear.
“I’m staying right here, I promise.”
Jack sat in the antique chair in the hallway, staring up at the grandfather clock. It ticked sombrely, matching his mood. His body ached, his soul too. What the hell had he done, bringing this shit here, to her?
The quiet hum of voices in the kitchen grew louder. He should be in there, going in to bat for himself, but truthfully, he didn’t think he had it in him right now. Shame overwhelmed him. He was letting Ally fight this battle, one that wasn’t even hers to fight. What kind of man did that? What would his Dad say?
He had argued against getting Callum, Jane and Maggie involved, but Ally had insisted. The more heads together, she said, the more chance they have of making sure this goes away. He should have argued harder, he should have stood up to her, but he didn’t.
He could make a break for it, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t come back here once he was gone. He couldn’t risk that. Jimmy said they kn
ew where she lived. The other option was to go to the cops, but what if they couldn’t protect her? He could take Ally and go on the run, but what kind of life would that be, constantly looking over their shoulder? Clearly, Ben had resources he didn’t know about, or how else would he have found him? It was a sobering thought, and the frustration grew.
A chair scraped against the wooden floorboards. Callum was talking about calling the cops. Before he could think of standing up and going in there, Ally answered for him, repeating what he had told her earlier. It seemed to satisfy Callum. The voices lowered and conversation resumed. He sat there, listening to them.
“Okay,” Jane said after a few moments. “Then let’s talk about the money.”
Jack sat forward, resting his head in his palms, his head throbbing.
The money. What the hell am I gonna do about the money?
“How much do you have?”
He looked up. Callum stood in the kitchen doorway, waiting.
“A little over five grand,” he said, straightening up again. “If I sell my car, I’ll get another grand, maybe less.”
“That leaves you four grand short.”
Might as well be four hundred grand. Close is not good enough. Close is not gonna get them off my back – or hers.
Callum moved aside as Ally appeared in the doorway, moving through into the hall. She made her way towards him slowly, powering her wheelchair with slight, even strokes.
“I have two thousand dollars from my inheritance, from Gran. I want you to have it,” she said, stopping beside him. “You can pay me back, if it makes you feel better about taking it.”
He stared at her, his blood pressure rising. He shouldn’t need her help, or her money. He should be taking care of this on his own. It was his mess, not hers.
“No. I’ll figure out a way to do this myself.”
“So you’re gonna find four grand in forty-eight hours – are you kidding me?” Callum shook his head. “What are you gonna do, rob a bank? This is like déjà-vu. Pull your head out of your ass for a change. This isn’t just about you!”
Jack struggled to keep his anger in check. “I’ll figure it out.”
“How?” Maggie asked, from behind Callum. “How are you gonna raise four grand? Tell us how and we’ll back off.”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll fix it.”
If he had a job, this would be so much easier but no bank on earth would give him a loan if he had no means to pay it back.
“Bullshit you will, because there is no other solution,” Callum said roughly. “I’ve got about a grand in the bank and can borrow more. Ally has two – take it, and you can pay us both back. Whatever it takes to make this go away, that’s what you’re gonna do.”
Jack glared at him, his pride insisting he throw it all back in their faces, but his head screaming that he was out of options. Frustration built inside of him, pushing his lungs up into his throat. Callum was right. This was about more than just his pride. The smart thing to do was to acknowledge that doing the right thing wasn’t always easy. So why the hell did it feel like he was being trapped into doing the wrong thing here? Wouldn’t the right thing be to handle this himself, without getting anyone else involved? Isn’t that what he should be doing?
“Jack, please.”
The heartbreak in Ally’s voice turned his stomach.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she said. “You don’t have to do this by yourself. Let us help, please? It’s not a sign of weakness, no one will think any less of you for it.”
Her words sank in slowly, leaving footprints on his heart. He couldn’t hurt her again, not now, when she had given him the one thing he had longed for all this time: a second chance. He had to do the right thing. And if the right thing meant borrowing money off his friends, then that’s what he must do.
He imagined a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight, encouraging him and he closed his eyes.
I feel you, Dad. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.
Opening his eyes, he reached for Ally’s hand. “Thank you.”
He looked over at Callum, Maggie and Jane standing by the kitchen doorway.
“Thank you,” he repeated, addressing Callum. “I’ll pay you back, I promise.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” Ally murmured.
She sounded so sure, so confident, he had almost convinced himself that he believed her.
The night was quiet and still. Ally had gone to bed a couple of hours earlier, but Jack was on a knife edge, twitchy and restless. Every imagined little noise had him up, investigating. Callum had called him when he got home, saying that he hadn’t seen anything unusual when they left, but Jimmy was no amateur – if he said they were watching both houses, Jack believed him. He checked the front door again, and walked down the length of the hall in his bare feet, checking the back door for good measure. Even though he had done this a gazillion times tonight, he would probably do it a gazillion more before the night was out.
He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. The medication that Ally had given him earlier was wearing off. His brain ran in circles. How could he have been so stupid as to think that Ben wouldn’t track him back here? He eased against the chair back, his bruised ribs aching with the movement. Insult on top of injury. He closed his eyes, exhausted with the weight of responsibility.
It was merely a couple of weeks earlier that he had sat in that wretched little apartment and wondered if his life could get any worse. And now – here it was, a hundred times worse. It was time to grow up. The only reason he was in this mess was because he had been so used to running away from his problems, the odds had been stacked against him from the outset. After spending four years on the run from himself, he still hadn’t learnt his lesson.
All that had to change, right here, right now. No more running away, no more hiding from the truth. He owed his father more, he owed Ally more and he owed himself more. Once all this was over, he was going out to find a job and he was paying everyone back.
A single brief, sharp knock at the front door stopped him in his mental tracks.
His heart raced. He waited, but it was not repeated. He flew up from his seat and into the living room, peering out between the curtains onto an empty front yard, glowing in the street light. His heart battered against his ribcage as he crept to the front door. He unlocked it, opening it a crack and peering out. Nothing. Opening it wider, he glanced along the porch but saw nothing out of the ordinary. His pulse raced as his gaze swept over the front yard. Turning to go back into the house, he was about to dismiss the whole episode as part of his overactive imagination when he saw a note tacked to the front door. He yanked it off, disappearing into the house, closing, locking and double-checking the door behind him. Stepping further down the hallway, he stared at the note in his hand.
10pm Tuesday. Lewis Street house. Come alone. Sweet dreams.
Crushing the note in his hand, he shoved it deep into his jeans pocket and walked slowly back into the living room. He sank down into the couch, his aches and pains forgotten. How the hell had it come to this? He leaned back against the cushion.
Adrenaline abandoned him, leaving emptiness in its wake.
CHAPTER 22
“The past is never where you think you left it.”
- Katherine Anne Porter
Everything was too quiet. No birdsong, unusual for this time of the morning, not even the sound of a breeze rustling the leaves cut through the early morning air. The only sound was that of Ally’s footsteps on gravel, each step kicking up small stones behind her. It would have been relaxing if only she had let herself go, but somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice whispered that all was not well. She ignored the twist in her gut and ran onwards, turning off at the edge of the park and heading up River Road.
The slight incline made her calves and thighs burn with the extra effort required, but she didn’t care. For some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on, she welcomed the sensation. Up ahead, she heard
voices and she slowed down to try and make them out. Almost instantly, she recognised Jack’s voice, picking up the panic in it that kick-started her into a full-blown sprint. He screamed and her heart raced, her arms pumping harder as she fought to get to him. It felt like forever before she could finally see him, and when she did, she stopped still. He was trapped inside his car, overturned in the middle of the road. She looked around for help but there was no one around. He was desperately trying to pull himself out of the car but getting nowhere. She ran to him, falling to the asphalt beside him and ignoring the stones that cut into her knees.
He stared up at her, wide-eyed and frantic. As she reached for him, she found that suddenly their positions were reversed. She was the one inside the car and he was the one outside, trying to help her escape. What she had assumed was sharp stones cutting into her knees was in fact mangled metal, trapping her inside the car so she couldn’t move. The pain was excruciating and she screamed even as he tried to soothe her, begging her to keep still while he brutally yanked at the door that refused to budge.
Smoke curled up beside her and she looked around, wrenching her neck as she strained to see where it was coming from. Jack swore loudly, a string of curses tumbling from him in a high-pitched yowl that scared her even more. She begged for help as the smoke turned into flames that licked at her, searing her skin. She screamed, renewing the struggle, ignoring the metal that dug into her knees. Her eyes stung from the smoke, and the smell of burning flesh turned her stomach. She watched in horror as the flames turned the flesh on her legs a blistering red.
Jack bolted into consciousness. He sat still on the couch for a moment, his body tingling, his heart racing, as he struggled to wake up properly. What had woken him? He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but it didn’t feel like long. Ally screamed, then – a short, sharp, sob-like scream that set his teeth on edge. He shot out of the couch and made a dive for the doorway, almost colliding with it in his haste.
He pushed open the door, peering into her room. “Ally? Are you okay?”
