Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  “How exactly was I supposed to mention it? Lys, this is Tillie. She and her girlfriend nearly shagged me rotten in a nightclub, and then she tried to suck my cock at Heathrow airport. Really? How could I have told you that? How would that have gone down at the charity event?”

  “You could have found some way to let me know.”

  I closed my eyes while I clenched and unclenched my free hand. God, I needed a drink, but I still didn’t have anything in the house. “I know. I should have. I just didn’t think. She tried to crack onto me during the fundraiser too, but I told her that I was a one-woman man.”

  “You have to understand, Dec.”

  “Understand what? Help me here, Lys, because more than anything I don’t want to fuck this up—fuck us up—but you need to help me.” I moved and sat at the dining table. With my free hand, I spun one of the coasters on its corner.

  “Photos of you around random women I can deal with. I know you’re not living in some bubble where you’ll only ever interact with men. But real history, actual people you’ve screwed or come close to screwing, that can’t be swept away. I have to know about those.”

  I slapped my hand down on the coaster, stopping the spin. “But—”

  “No, Dec. No buts. I have an issue making small talk with someone else who’s seen your dick, and I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”

  It would be impossible for me to tell her all of the people I’d slept with because the list was too long. I was smart enough not to mention that fact at that precise time though. “If it comes up again, I promise I’ll let you know.”

  “Is it likely to come up again?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. God knows I wasn’t a fucking saint without you in my life, Lys. You know that as well as I do. But that’s changed now. I’ve got a case of blue balls like you wouldn’t believe because of how badly I need you.”

  A quiet chuckle echoed down the line. It’d clearly slipped out in spite of her anger because it stopped as soon as it had started.

  “That’s what this weekend is about anyway, isn’t it? Get it all out in the open. Although, I don’t think I’ll be able to give dates and times or names and addresses.”

  “I don’t want a play-by-play, Dec. God knows I don’t need that. I just need to know if the mouth forming words in a conversation with me is one that’s been on your cock.”

  “Maybe we need a code word. Like a safe word. Something I can use whenever we’re near anyone I’ve slept with.”

  “Like what?”

  “How about regret?”

  She was silent, but I didn’t know if it was because she was upset or thinking.

  “I’ll work that word into the introduction and then you’ll know.”

  “That might work.”

  “We’ll make it work. I can’t change the past, Lys, but I can change the future. And I can learn from my mistakes.”

  “I know that you’re trying. It just caught me by surprise. I mean, she’s just . . . I don’t know, the complete opposite of me.”

  I played with the coaster in front of me again, concentrating on that rather than the words that were about to leave me. “That was kinda the point.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  There was a moment between us that was entirely awkward in a way things hadn’t really been on the phone before.

  “Do you know any way to do a search to see if my suspicion is right?” I asked, trying to break the silence and lead the conversation away from the specifics of past conversations with Tillie and onto more proactive focuses.

  “There might be a few. Let me look into it for you.”

  I thanked her and then we started chatting about Phoebe’s day. It was too late to talk to my little girl, because she was already in bed, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to know about the things she’d done. After a little more conversation with Alyssa, I confirmed some firmer plans for the weekend before we said our goodbyes. When we did, she dropped the bombshell that she’d be working for the rest of the week so our calls would be very limited.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: COINCIDENCE

  SOMEHOW, I MANAGED to make it through to Thursday without tearing down any walls in the house. I’d even managed to go grocery shopping at one point without completely losing my mind. My meals since Alyssa had left might have consisted of the same three dishes she’d cooked in her time in Sydney, and had shown me how to make in the process, but at least I was eating something more than just vegemite toast and takeaway for every meal.

  Better yet, the number of cars parked out in front of my house waiting for the hint of a scandal had shrunk to just one lone photographer—the same one who’d baited me at the beach. I didn’t know where the others had fucked off to, but I didn’t really give a shit either. They were off my case, and that was enough for me. The one guy left had to have been bored out of his fucking mind considering I’d only left the house twice in almost a week.

  Around two in the afternoon, while Christina was busy cleaning the messes I’d left throughout the house in my demolition phase, the phone rang. Since I’d decided to use her presence as an excuse to lock myself away in my gym, I was a little over thirty minutes into my run and more ready for a break. I hopped onto the sides of the treadmill while the mat kept spinning at a little over ten kilometres an hour. Blowing out a breath, and sucking down a drink, I took a second to recover from my workout before jabbing at the button to stop the treadmill.

  The phone had stopped ringing before I got to it, but when I saw Eden’s name as the missed call, I waited for her return call. She never called just once and gave up. It was more her style to try two or three times before resigning herself to the fact that she’d have to wait for a call back—usually after leaving some smart-arsed voicemail.

  While I waited, I grabbed my towel and patted down my shoulders. With the summer heat setting in early and November storms, my house was like a sauna. Normally I would have run the air con to keep it cool, but with my money growing tighter and tighter every day, it felt far too indulgent to have it running for just me. Instead, I was just making my exercise routine as clothing optional as possible, and had spent most of the day in little more than a pair of gym shorts.

  Barely a minute had gone by before my screen lit up as Eden rang again.

  “Be ready at six, I’m taking you out for dinner.” She hadn’t even said hello. At least nothing had changed between us despite everything that had gone down.

  “Well obviously you’re home then,” I said.

  “Yep. Flew in last night, and now I wanna meet up. There’s some stuff I need to talk to you about.”

  “Okay.” There were some things I needed to discuss with her too, but I wasn’t sure whether her statement should excite or scare me.

  “See you tonight then.” She hung up the phone before I could ask for more information.

  Knowing the worst thing I could do was linger on the possible reasons for the call, I turned back around and jumped on the treadmill again. Maybe I was spending too much time on that and my bike in the last few days, but focusing on getting my technique right, on keeping my feet in the right place and getting the most out of my workouts was a good distraction and kept my monsters at bay. For a few moments at a time at least.

  A little over two hours later, I was dressed in a button-down shirt and black slacks. I had no idea whether Eden was taking me somewhere formal or out to the local KFC, so I wanted to be ready for either. It was a little before six when she knocked on the door.

  “Ready to go?” she asked. “Or do you need a few more minutes to fix your make-up?”

  “Fuck off, Edie. I don’t have to spend time with you, you know.”

  “Who else have you got to keep you company? And I don’t want to hear about Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters all wrapped around your cock all night long.”

  “Yeah, because all I’ve been doing since Lys left is masturbating furiously.” I held up my hand, palm facing her, before spinnin
g it around and dropping the right fingers to flip her the bird. “Seriously, why are we friends again?”

  “Because you love me?” She fluttered her eyes and made kissy noises.

  “I wouldn’t be too confident about that.”

  “Because I’m the only one who puts up with your shit?”

  The amusement that had been growing with our banter released in a chuckle. “That’s probably closer to the truth.”

  “Although Lys puts up with it too.”

  “Yeah, but Lys gets other benefits.” I waggled my brow at her and clutched my crotch.

  “Fuck off, Reede, you’re a dirty manwhore.”

  “Only for one woman.”

  “Get in the car and you can tell me all about your undying love on the way.”

  We ended up going to Il Riscatto, a little Italian restaurant about forty minutes from my house.

  When we arrived, I half expected Morgan to be there to meet us. “Where’s Morg?”

  Eden grimaced.

  “What is it?”

  “He’s being a little precious about the whole thing.”

  “About what exactly?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. “About you. Things are a little tense around Sinclair at the moment. There are two firm camps; those who want you back and those glad you’re gone.”

  “So Morgan isn’t going to be my friend anymore because some fuckers have said he shouldn’t? What is this, the fucking third grade?”

  “No. It’s not like that exactly.”

  “Well, then what’s it like exactly?”

  “Morg’s so close to claiming the championship. Even with the Bathurst crash, he’s clinging on to it by the skin of his teeth. Right now, the last thing he needs is any controversy around him distracting him from the last few races.”

  “And I’m controversial.”

  She shrugged. “At the moment you are. You know Morg doesn’t want this. Obviously he’s hanging for a boys’ night out. He just wants to wait until he can do it properly without the paparazzi hanging around and without worrying about any issues around work.” She indicated out the window, where the lone pap who was still following me around stood with his camera in hand. He gave a twisted smile and little wave. The fucker didn’t even bother to try to hide anymore.

  “And what about you? Why are you here then?”

  “Well, for starters, I don’t give a shit what the press says about me. For second, I’m already tangled up in all this crap, so it doesn’t make sense for me to keep my distance. It’ll only make us look guilty.”

  “Except it could fuel rumours that we really are an item.”

  “Ha! If they are going to think that anyway, we should give them something to really froth at the mouth about.” She grabbed my face in her hands, leaned across the table, and planted a kiss on my lips. I recoiled in shock as she fell back into her chair, laughing. “Seriously, if anyone can think there’s anything going on between us, they need their head read. Besides, you, me, Alyssa, and Morgan all know the truth so fuck the rest of them.”

  “Fuck the rest of them? Very philosophical.”

  She held up her hands and gave an exaggerated shrug. “What can I say? I’m a freaking thinker.”

  “A regular fucking Plato.”

  She flipped me the bird but laughed as she did.

  After we’d eaten, I was ready to leave to go home and give Alyssa a call before she headed to bed after her shift at work. Before I could make it that far though, Eden gave me a quick sideways glance and then gasped. “Danny? What are you doing here?”

  “What have you done?” I mouthed to her.

  A sly smile tipped up her lips and she gave a far too innocent shrug as she moved around me to greet him. “I didn’t know your reservations were for tonight.”

  Bullshit. With my heart beating against my chest at a few thousand RPM, I spun around in the direction she was headed. He already had Eden in a warm embrace, dropping away when he saw me.

  “Declan,” he said with a curt nod. His voice was tight. Restrained.

  My jaw ached with pressure as I shot daggers at Eden. I’d thought her impromptu dinner was a gesture of friendship, not her being an interfering cow. My tone matched his as I nodded in reply. “Danny.”

  Hazel, Danny’s wife, gave me a polite smile that lacked all of the warmth she’d shown in the years I’d been with the team. I bit the inside of my cheeks at the sight.

  It was just further evidence of how badly I’d screwed up everything with my surrogate family. As if I’d needed more.

  “I need to go powder my nose,” Eden announced. “Hazel, would you care to join me?”

  Danny gave Eden a look of betrayal that echoed my own, but then his gaze met mine and something in his eyes softened. He nodded to Hazel, who quietly slipped away at Eden’s side.

  “It appears we’ve been set up,” Danny said as his gaze followed the pair toward the restrooms at the back of the restaurant.

  “So it would seem.” My tone was as dead as my career. Even though I wanted nothing more than to prove that I was doing fine despite the way he’d shafted me, I couldn’t infuse my voice with warmth, or life, or anything.

  “Care for a drink?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  “I’m guessing Eden set this little stunt up to give you a chance to explain yourself. Do you really want to give up that opportunity?”

  “Why should I explain myself to someone who is uninterested in listening?”

  His fingers rubbed along his forehead and then he sighed. A moment later, he nodded toward the bar. “Come on. You might not want a drink, but I think I need one.”

  Even though I wanted to tell him to shove his drink up his fucking arse, I followed him to the bar. My gaze drifted back toward the restrooms, and I wondered how long Eden was going to keep me waiting. How long she was going to force me to make small talk with the guy who’d fired me less than two weeks earlier.

  When we reached the bar, Danny waved over the bartender and ordered a drink. I just shook my head when I was offered again. My eyes were trained on the marble in front of me, following the intricate patterns and imperfections so that I had something to concentrate on other than Danny beside me.

  “I heard a rumour you were offered a place at Wood,” he said, without trying for any small talk first.

  Lifting my gaze from the marble to meet his, I shrugged and tried to play it nonchalantly. I feared that I was failing when I had to swallow down the lump in my throat.

  “I also heard you turned it down.”

  Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

  He leaned forward onto the bar, resting his weight on his forearms. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to race for just anyone.” Especially not a psycho who likely coordinated this whole thing.

  He raised his eyebrow.

  Spinning so that I could face the wide open space of the restaurant rather than the small corner the bar was in, I sighed before continuing. “There was always a reason I took the job with you. Why it was barely a consideration to sign the first contract you offered me. I wanted to race for Sinclair Racing long before you offered me a chance. As a kid, it wasn’t just about being behind the wheel of a ProV8. It was about being behind the wheel of a Sinclair car.” I lifted my face to the ceiling because it was hard for me to make my admission. Especially after everything that had happened since. “It was always the dream.”

  I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and saw him nursing his drink, sloshing the contents around as he stared into the amber liquid. “I’m sorry for how things went down, son. It’s possible I was a little rash in my decisions. Eden tells me that things haven’t been easy for you in recent weeks.”

  I scoffed. “That’s a fucking understatement.”

  He took a sip of his drink and then placed it back down on the bar. “She wouldn’t tell me why, though.”

  It was clear he was fishing for more, but I didn’t owe him anything.
Not only that, but if I got into all the details about Emmanuel and Phoebe, about Dad and Hayley, about all the things I’d discovered and faced in the last month, I would be demanding a drink of my own before long.

  Probably a bottle of the stuff.

  And if I started that, it wouldn’t end well. Not while I was alone.

  “No offense, sir, but I don’t really want to talk about any of it with you.”

  He twisted his hands up in a gesture that obviously meant he wasn’t going to press. Then he chuckled. “You would not believe how much Eden has been in my ear about you the whole time we were in Bahrain.”

  “Fuck, I can’t do this.” I pushed away from the bar and headed out into the night. Fuck Eden and her interfering. Fuck Danny and his pretence of being friendly. I didn’t need pity or an accidentally-on-purpose encounter to try to get me my job back. Or whatever the fuck this was supposed to be. When I hit the street, I paced along the footpath while I waited for Eden.

  The paparazzo outside smirked at me. “That looked like an intense conversation. Wanna tell me about it? Better yet, why not go inside and tell him how you really feel? There must be something you want to say to him after the way he hung you out to dry.”

  Even though I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fucker. “Fuck you!”

  He laughed, but I just turned away from him.

  As I did, all of the things I’d wanted to say to Danny since he’d given me the sack rammed against my skull. Maybe the arsehole photographer was right. Every thought smashed against my tongue and demanded to be released.

  In the next second, I was back through the door and stalked straight to the bar.

  “Actually, I do have some things I need to say to you.” The words flew from me without thought as I got closer to Danny. “I’ve been Sinclair through and through since the day you hired me, but fuck if I haven’t made some mistakes. There are some you know about, some you don’t, but not one of them was ever done with an ounce of spite.

  “What you did to me, giving me the arse over hearsay and rumours during what was in some ways the worst month of my life, was something I never in my darkest imaginings would have thought you’d do. I thought we were like a family.”