Blood Sport (Little Town)

by JD Nixon

  “Don’t take that fucking tone with me, Sergeant,” warned the Super, sotto voce.

  “With all due respect, ma’am,” hissed the Sarge through gritted teeth, “I’m angry that I was the last one to be told that Tessie had been attacked again.”

  “And what the fuck were you proposing to do, Maguire? Rush here and stitch her up yourself? Lovingly assist at the fucking operation?”

  “Ma’am –”

  “And forgive me if you’re not the first person I think of when I hear that something’s happened to Tessie. I know that’s a fucking shock to you, because you’re starting to believe that you own her. But for your information, I think of her father first and then her boyfriend. Remember him?”

  “Yes, I do, ma’am, because he’s the one who attacked Tessie, according to those constables.”

  She snorted with unamused laughter. “What? The two constables who wouldn’t know if their own arses were on fire? Who listen to fucking music when they’re on duty? Who can’t tell the difference between Red Bycraft and his brother? Those two constables who I’ve reduced to tears with the motherfucker of all bollockings that they’ll never forget for the rest of their lives? Who I’ve put on jay-walking detail for the next two months? Are those the two constables you’re holding up to me as a shining example of reliable policing?”

  “Maybe it was Jake,” he insisted stubbornly. “Has anyone checked where he was last night?”

  “Fuck me, Maguire! How did we manage to know which fucking shoe went on which foot in the morning without your big city wisdom? Of course we fucking checked!” she shouted at him, so loudly that he instinctively flinched and Bum anxiously poked his head around the door, sure that he was in trouble again.

  “Stop yelling, ma’am,” I spoke up weakly. “Please.”

  She stopped immediately, coming to my side, taking my hand, shooting the Sarge a poisonous glance. “Now look what you’ve done, Maguire. You’ve woken her up, you stupid dickhead.” She turned to me. “Tessie, we need to talk.” She glanced up. “Don’t let the door hit you on arse when you leave, Sergeant.”

  “But, ma’am –”

  “Are you fucking hard of hearing or something? I just told you to sod off!” They would have heard her out on the street, she was so angry.

  He left, cutting her a look of sheer hatred as he did. It was water off a duck’s back to her though. She didn’t care who hated her.

  “And shut the door behind you,” she ordered. He slammed it so hard that it rattled in its frame for a few seconds afterwards.

  She pulled up the seat next to me. “How are you feeling, Tessie?”

  “Terrible. Don’t fight with the Sarge. It upsets me.”

  “That man is fucking insubordinate and is getting too possessive about you.”

  “He cares about me, like a good partner should. What’s wrong with that?”

  “He cares too much.”

  “I don’t think it’s possible that anyone can care too much for me, ma’am.” I changed the subject. “Did you find Red?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He’ll come back for me.”

  “Tessie,” she said, uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “It’s just you and me here now and what you say won’t go any further if you don’t want it to, but I need to know. And I need to get you professional help if you want it. I know more than anybody that you’re a very brave woman who won’t hide from the truth, no matter how ugly. Bycraft was with you for a while. What did he do to you? Did he . . .” She swallowed, paused and pulled herself together. “Did he rape you?”

  “No, he didn’t,” I assured her. She sighed audibly with relief. “I led him on though, trying to distract him. I let him kiss me. I kissed him back. With tongues. He touched my boob. He pushed my hand against the front of his jeans. I pressed myself against him.” I hid my face in my hands at the memory, before realising that I was back on the IV again.

  “Tessie?”

  “I feel sick. I’m going to be sick.”

  “Shit. Get out of bed!”

  She helped me wheel the IV trolley into the bathroom and waited patiently while I kneeled and threw up everything in my stomach. I sat in the bathroom for a while until I stopped shaking.

  “I need a shower and some clean clothes. Get someone to take this IV out.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve never seen anyone so pale and clammy, and I did paid security on a three day Goth music festival once. Fucking hell! Everybody there looked like they were dead. Those ghouls would fucking scare your nana into an early grave, then dig her up again to be their best buddy.”

  “My nana’s dead already,” I said bluntly. I was feeling sorry for myself.

  “Don’t get on the pity express, Tessie. It’s nothing but a downward spiral. You’re tough, you’re resourceful and you’re going to beat those Bycraft bastards.”

  “Not this morning, ma’am. I’ve just had enough.” I was temporarily defeated. I needed the loving care and attention of a mother. Anyone’s would do.

  “Come here,” she offered and opened her arms. Gratefully, I stepped into them and let myself lean against her while she gave me a hug that lasted a whole five seconds. She pulled away and checked her watch. “I’m late for a meeting with those dog-fuckers from the city. I think I’ve managed to keep enough fucking money to buy a couple of paperclips now and then, but I don’t trust them. They’re slipperier than an oiled eel dressed in vinyl. They’ll find any excuse to snatch the cash back off me, just because I won’t kiss their hairy, shit-stinking arses.” She moved away from me, heading to the door, shouting, “Bum! Where the fuck are you this time? You have ten seconds to get my car to the front door before I sell you off to a male brothel. In fucking Afghanistan!” The sound of heavy footsteps running down the hall floated through the open door.

  She left me and I tried not to mind, reminding myself that five seconds was in fact five seconds longer than she’d ever hug anyone else. I shambled back to my bed and sat down heavily, still dressed in my crusty bloodstained pyjamas, unwilling to face the rest of the day. I wrapped my arms around myself in an obvious and pathetic attempt at self-comfort, feeling sorry for myself.

  The Sarge poked his head around the door and ambled into the room. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt that showcased his nice chest muscles and a leather jacket, with his utility belt slung around his hips. I looked up at him, miserable. He walked over to the bed, gently pulled me up by my hands and enfolded me in his arms.

  It was a good hug. No, scrub that – it was a great hug. It continued for a long time and only finished when I was ready to pull away.

  “Thanks, Sarge,” I said gratefully, glancing up at him. “I really, really needed a hug.”

  “I could tell from your face.”

  I plonked back down on the bed again. “I don’t want to be here anymore. And I don’t want to be on this thing anymore.” I shook the trolley. “I need a shower and clean clothes, Sarge. Please! I can’t stay in these pyjamas one second longer. They’re disgusting.”

  He strode out of the room and I laid back on the bed, trusting him to sort things out for me. I thought again that I’d grown much too used to him being around. The Super was right. He was, not too possessive as she thought, but too protective. It was making me lazy and soft. I would soon be dependent on him, but one day he wouldn’t be there in Little Town for me. He had a city-loving fiancee and he had ambitions to rise in the ranks. And neither of those was compatible with life in a small country town. I’d been angry when he arrived because he was so stiff and unfriendly, and now I’d be angry with him when he left because I’d feel like he deserted me. The poor guy couldn’t win.

  A few minutes after he left, a nurse came rushing into the room and disconnected me from the IV without any comment or eye contact.

  “Am I all right without being hooked up?” I asked with concern, looking down at my arm.

  “Who knows? I’m just trying to get rid of that cop at the desk. He’s a frigg
ing pest.” She glanced at me anxiously. “Oh shit. Is he your husband?”

  I laughed. “No. He’s my boss.”

  She relaxed. “Thank God. Who cares about them, huh? Bunch of arseholes, mostly.”

  I laughed again. “I only want to have a shower and change out of these bloodstained clothes, then I’m happy to be hooked up again.”

  “You poor girl. Who left you in those horrible clothes anyway? Bloody night staff! Too lazy to do anything properly.”

  She unhooked me and I took a slow, hot shower. All of Red Bycraft washed away from me and down the drain. I scrubbed myself and washed my hair a second time, just to be sure. Afterwards I brushed my teeth, flossed and gargled, twice. I knew it was a psychological response, but I needed to get rid of every possible trace of Red on my body. Dressed in a fresh tracksuit, lying back in bed, sparkly clean, I submitted to being hooked back up to the IV again.

  “Is there any chance of food?” I asked the nurse, full of hope.

  “Kitchen’s closed till lunchtime now and I’m not asking the manager for any special favours. She’s temperamental and she has a drawer full of sharp knives.”

  “But I’m starving,” I complained.

  “Sorry. You’ll have to wait for lunch,” she shrugged, before leaving. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, ready to go to the cafe to get myself some food. I hadn’t eaten much lately and had thrown up most of what I had eaten. I needed food and I needed it fast. But I didn’t even have any money on me, I realised with a groan. I’d been out jogging when this whole mess had started in the first place.

  The Sarge burst back into the room. “What are you doing? Get back in bed. What do you need?”

  “Food,” I said piteously. “Lots of food. And fast.”

  He sighed patiently. “What do you want to eat?”

  “Tuna salad on wholemeal with an apple and an orange juice,” I said, trying reverse psychology on him. I really wanted a bacon and egg sandwich and a couple of hashbrowns.

  He laughed. “I’ll see what I can rustle up,” he threatened and headed off.

  I leaned over to grab my phone and spent the next five minutes assuring Dad yet again that Red hadn’t killed me, and that hopefully I would see him later in the day. He told me that the roof in the kitchen was leaking badly with all the rain we were having. I sighed heavily. I had no money to repair it. Our house was nothing but a money trap. It seemed that every cent I earned ended up being sucked into the black hole of property maintenance on a hundred-something-year-old timber home. I’d wanted to save for a rainy day, but that rainy day had arrived and I didn’t have five cents in my bank account to fix the leaky roof.

  “I’ll see what I can do about it when I get home, Dad. Is it really that bad? Maybe you should stay with Adele?”

  Dad’s long-time girlfriend, Adele, worked at the local supermarket and was a warm and loving woman. They’d been a couple for about ten years and Dad would have married her in a blink, I was sure. But after my mother was murdered by Bobby Bycraft when I was young, he’d made a promise to himself that he would never put another woman in that kind of danger again by making her his wife. I wasn’t the only Fuller woman who’d suffered from dangerously obsessive Bycraft attention.

  We rang off and I laid back on the bed, moping about the roof. Maybe Jake could help me fix it – he was a competent handyman.

  A sudden commotion in the hallway made me sit up in alarm.

  “Tess?” asked one of the two very capable officers who’d replaced Sarah and Jack, poking his head around the door. “There’s a man here saying he’s Jake Bycraft. We’ve searched him and I’ve checked his driver’s licence, but can you come and verify?”

  My heart pounded – surely Red wouldn’t try it on again? Not so blatantly? He was a risk-taking narcissist though and this would appeal to his warped sense of humour. Pushing my IV trolley to the door, I cautiously peered around. The two cops had their guns out covering Jake, who stood with a sullen, resentful expression on his face.

  “It’s okay, guys. It really is Jake,” I assured them and held out my hand to him. He took it, kissed it gently, glared at the two cops as they reholstered their weapons and followed me back into the room.

  He was fuming. I patted his arm and settled back on to the bed. He sat on the bed next to me and leaned over to kiss me properly.

  “Don’t be angry, Jakey,” I soothed, caressing his cheek. “They were only doing their job. The last two cops received such a reaming from the Super that everyone’s going to be ultra-careful from now on.”

  “That arsehole on the left knows me, Tessie. We’ve been to parties at his house.”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” I said and leaned up to kiss him again, taking his mind off the indignation of having to prove his identity to people who already knew him.

  “I came as soon as I could, baby doll,” he said, stroking my hair and calming down. “You look so pale.”

  “I’ve lost some blood. That’s what this,” and I shook the IV, “is for, I guess.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t seen a doctor yet. I don’t feel like I’m going to die or anything. But I’m just so tired of it all, Jakey.”

  He squeezed my hand, but didn’t know what to say. And what could anyone say to me in these circumstances? What could a Bycraft say? It was my fate in life to be tormented by the Bycraft family and there was nothing anyone could do to help me, particularly Jake. He hugged me tightly and we stayed like that until the Sarge came back in the room, carrying a tray.

  “Jake,” he acknowledged in an unfriendly voice.

  “Finn,” Jake matched him for frostiness.

  The Sarge set up the table for me again and deposited the tray, whipping the lid off the plate. He had brought me back a poached egg on toast with grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, as well as an orange juice and a coffee. He’d brought himself back a coffee as well.

  “Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum!” I enthused and tucked in. As I ate I told the men what had happened to me the previous night, including Red’s alarming plan for ridding himself of his obsession with me. I didn’t spare them the details of what I’d done and said, but it didn’t go down well with either of them.

  Jake jumped off the bed and prowled around the room angrily. “Goddamit!” He punched out at the wall in fury.

  I stopped chewing and watched him silently.

  The Sarge swore under his breath and his lips compressed until they were colourless, his fists clenching in anger.

  I put down my fork and switched my eyes to him.

  Jake stopped prowling and stood over me, his nostrils flaring in fury. “How far would you have gone with Red?”

  I blinked up at him, hugely upset, pushing the food away, my appetite now dead. I turned my head away from him and looked out of the window.

  “How far, Tess?” he persisted fiercely, shaking my shoulder with an ungentle squeeze. I refused to look at him or to answer him. “Would you have gone all the way with him?”

  “Back off, Bycraft!” snapped the Sarge, jumping to his feet. “For God’s sake, she’s just been through two very traumatic experiences and that’s all you care about? Sort out your priorities, mate.”

  Jake turned on him. “Why don’t you just fuck off for once and give me some private time with Tessie? Go ring your pretend fiancee, you sad bastard, and let me talk to my very real girlfriend without you hanging around all the time.”

  The Sarge’s icy glance in response would have frozen a waterfall. Jake had gone way too far with that nasty crack.

  “Tess?” the Sarge barked at me.

  I looked over to him, apologetic for Jake’s behaviour. “Do you mind giving Jake and me a chance to talk please, Sarge?”

  He flicked his eyes between the both of us and my half-eaten meal, before spinning around and striding out, slamming the door again.

  “Tessie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t mean to say that,” Jake said immediatel
y, sitting on the bed next to me, stroking my hair with his hand. “I’m not angry at you, please believe me, baby doll. I know you’ve been to hell and back. I’m angry with Red, but . . . he’s my brother. I love you, Tessie, but I love my family too.” He stood up and paced around the room. “I just can’t handle all this shit! Do you know what it’s like being interrogated by Fiona? I almost confessed to attacking you myself just to get her to leave me alone.” He sat next to me again and started twisting the bed cover into knots. “She made me feel that it was wrong for us to be together, because I couldn’t be trusted for a second. Because I’m a Bycraft.”

  I felt sorry for him, all thoughts of reproving him for his rudeness evaporating. He was a beautiful human being, but he wasn’t good at dealing with negative things. It was becoming increasingly difficult for us to be together with everything that kept happening to me, and I was sure we both realised it. But like him, I couldn’t deal with any of that right now. It would have to remain an uncomfortable discussion for another day. Yet again.

  “Jakey, I don’t want to talk anymore. Please stay with me for a while. I’m so tired, but I’m scared too.”

  “Of course I will, babe.” He laid next to me on the bed and pulled me up close against him, wrapping his arms around me and throwing one of his legs over mine protectively. Safe in his loving embrace with him telling me that he loved me over and over again and kissing me gently, I fell asleep.

  Chapter 7

  When I woke up, Jake was gone but the Sarge was sitting patiently on the visitor’s chair, flicking through the local paper, the Wattling Bay Messenger.

  “Where’s Jakey?”

  He glanced up at my voice. “He had to leave. He’s on duty this afternoon. He asked me to sit with you till you woke.” The tone of his voice made me think that the two men had come to some kind of rapprochement. Deep down, Jake realised that the Sarge cared just as much for my safety as he did.

  “What time is it?”