by Evie Snow
“Am,” she muttered, head resting on his shoulder. “I’m helpless. Feel free to take advantage of me.”
Stephen gently ran a finger down her spine. “You mean that? Or are you gonna fall asleep on me and damage my ego forever?”
“Maybe the latter. Your ego’ll survive,” Jo said, yawning hugely.
Stephen responded by squeezing a dollop of shampoo on her hair then rubbing it in before twisting them both around so her head was under the water. He was expecting her to splutter or at least throw a punch, but she let out a long, languorous moan instead.
“That feels sooo good. Proper warm water. Ohhh.”
“Now I know what I’ve been doing wrong all this time. Forget foreplay.” Stephen chuckled. The feel of her soap-slippery body sliding against his was well and truly causing him to rise to the occasion, but he could wait. For now, he’d settle for getting her out of the shower and into bed.
Twenty minutes later, lying spooned against her back and feeling almost euphoric at the sensation of her skin against his, he felt himself drifting off.
“Love you too,” he whispered, not sure she heard him, smiling into her hair at hearing the words out loud for the first time.
Boomba put in his two cents and yawned a quiet meow before the three of them fell into an exhausted sleep.
* * *
The feel of a warm hand stroking her hip woke Jo up from the best sleep she’d had in months. Stephen was spooned around her, and she could feel his hairy legs brushing against hers, his stomach against her back, and a rather persistent poking sensation in the region of her rump.
“Good morning,” came a gentle rumble in the vicinity of her ear, and she turned her head to meet a heart-wrenchingly sweet smile.
“Good morning.” Jo faced away again before yawning and stretching. “Was I mistaken or did I hear a declaration of affection last night?”
“I don’t know. What do you think you heard?” Stephen buried his face in her neck.
“Hmm, something about me being the most amazing, fantastic, brilliant—no, in fact, I believe you said ingenious—woman you have ever had the fortune to fall in love with,” Jo said, closing her eyes and arching her neck with a smug smile.
“Amazingly verbal, wasn’t I?” Stephen choked out a laugh.
“Yeah, it was really surprising, given how conversationally retarded you normally are.” Jo wiggled her backside to encourage a bit more attention of the groping-and-poking kind.
“Thanks a lot,” Stephen said dryly. “You know, I really can’t remember saying anything. Sure you didn’t imagine it? We both know you’re delusional.” He slid his free hand from her hip to her waist.
“Pretty sure.” Jo decided he had an unfair advantage and twisted around to face him.
“Ah, well. In that case, I’m pretty sure I heard you say something on the phone a while back. Something about me being the most ingenious, phenomenal, brilliant guy with the biggest . . . assets you’ve ever had the good fortune to fall in love with,” he countered, gripping her hips and rolling her onto her back before giving her a quizzical look.
Jo gave his shoulder a shove. “Misfortune’s more like it,” she grumbled but couldn’t hide her happy smile.
“Ahhh.” Stephen pushed his legs between hers and settled himself comfortably. “So you admit it. There was a declaration.”
“I admit nothing.” Jo pulled his face down to hers for a chaste morning kiss.
“Hmm? Well, I’ll do you a deal.”
“What?”
“I won’t give you a giant hickey where everyone can see if you say it again.”
“A hickey?” Jo howled. “Who hickeys anymore? That’s sooo high school.”
“You know you should never laugh at a naked man, babe. Now I have to give you one.” Stephen lowered his mouth to her throat, latching on and beginning to suck noisily.
Jo’s screaming protest was interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing in the living room.
Stephen raised his head. “Boomba, get off your fat, furry rump and get the phone, will you?” he yelled with false seriousness before returning his attention to Jo.
Jo chuckled, pushing against his shoulders. “Lacks opposable thumbs, remember? There’s no way I could have called you ingenious. Come on, I have to answer that.”
“Alright.” Stephen reluctantly rolled over, and Jo clambered out of bed to get the phone, but not before he’d leveled a sneaky swipe at her rump.
“Ow!”
“Deserved it.”
“Did not,” Jo called indignantly from the living room, picking up the phone in one hand while rubbing her smarting backside with the other. She was still wearing a wide, goofy smile when she answered. “Hello?”
“Jo. Thank god I got you. We’ve got a problem.”
“Amy?” Jo asked, wondering at her sister’s muted voice.
“Yeah! I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear your voice. We’ve got a bit of an emergency.” Amy’s anxiety practically electrified the phone line.
Jo felt the small hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mum. She’s here, but she wants to go home today. This morning.”
“Fuck,” Jo muttered, running a hand over her eyes. The fuzzy feeling of moments ago left her as a giant dose of reality stepped in.
“Yeah. And to make it worse, she’s called Dad to come pick her up.”
“What? Why? He doesn’t know where you live, Amy. He can’t know where you live. Mum should know that!”
“Well, we had a fight this morning. And she called him and now he does.” Amy sounded both resigned and exhausted.
“Jesus, Amy! What happened?” Jo asked urgently. “You alright?”
“No.” That one word was so choked with unshed tears that Jo felt her own eyes prickling. “No, I’m not alright. This sucks, Jo. I need you here now. Bring Stephen if you can. I can’t get ahold of Scott, he’s away on a job until late tonight. We didn’t think he’d need to be here until tomorrow when you two went down to George Creek.”
“Shit. We’re on our way.”
“Thanks. Just to let you know, things have backfired. Mum worked out we were planning on reporting Dad to the cops. He knows.”
“What?” A massive surge of adrenaline performed the function of Jo's normal black-as-mud morning coffee. “How?”
“I’m not completely sure. I let a few things slip this morning when I was angry. She must have put two and two t-t-together.” Amy’s voice caught. “I’m so sorry, Jo.”
“Forget about being sorry,” Jo said more sharply than she intended. “Just tell me how long ago this was. Amy?”
Amy took a deep, shuddering breath. “’Bout an hour or so ago, I think.”
“An hour? You sure?”
“Yeah, about that.”
“Was he on the farm when she called him?”
“Don’t know.”
“Okay.” Jo’s mind raced. “Okay, that gives us another hour at the most if he’s speeding. Can you hold on until we get there?”
“Yeah. But make it soon, Jo. Mum went psycho this morning. I’ve never seen her like this before,” Amy said in a scared voice Jo hadn’t heard for almost fifteen years.
“It’ll be alright. I’ll just put some clothes on, get Stephen, and we’ll be right over. If it gets too much, just leave her in the house and wait outside for us,” Jo said, trying to sound as calm as possible.
“What if he’s got the gun, Jo? He’s already shot at you once. And after what he did to us before . . .” Amy’s tone took on a panicked edge.
“Amy! Deep breaths. I’m on my way. If things get scary before we arrive, get out of there. Mum can take care of herself if she wants to stick around. Alright?”
“Alright. Hurry.”
Jo heard her sister hang up and desperately tried to change mental gears. The calmness she’d tried to convey to Amy drained out of her toes, leaving a dull panic in its wake. She had no time and no plan.
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What was her mum thinking?
She knew what their dad was like. Did she enjoy being the old man’s punching bag? Jesus Christ, what a clusterfuck. Jo rammed a hand through her hair. She had to calm down. She couldn’t panic. She’d told Amy she’d be there soon, and that’s exactly what she would do.
Behind her, she heard Stephen turn on the shower and braced herself to tell all. She’d planned on doing it today anyway. She just wished it could be any way other than this. All those late-night speeches she’d rehearsed while staring up at Grumpy’s bunk over the last few months flew out the window. What was she supposed to say now? My family is nuts and my father might appear at my sister’s door with a gun in the next hour. Oh, did I mention he’s an abusive alcoholic who tried to shoot me and we’ve kept that fact a secret from you and your family for our entire lives? No doubt Stephen would be so overjoyed at that little revelation, he’d declare his undying love for her on the spot. Fuck.
She took a deep shaky breath and opened the bathroom door. “Stephen?”
“Yeah?” He was washing his hair, pale blond strands plastered to the sides of his face. With his eyes scrunched closed to keep soap out, he looked gorgeously boyish, but there was not time to dwell on it.
“I need you to help me with something today. This morning. Can you be ready in five minutes? I’ll fill you in on the way.” She spoke quickly, willing him not to ask what the deal was just yet.
“What?” He turned to face her, eyes still closed. “Ah. Well, I’d kind of planned something for us . . .”
“When I said I needed help, I should have tacked on urgent,” Jo said impatiently. “Can you bear with me here?”
Stephen washed the soap out of his eyes and looked at her, no doubt seeing she was naked and not smiling. His expression turned serious. “Ah. Yeah, sure. Five minutes. What’s going on?”
“Tell you later. Hurry, please.” She raced out of the room and had underwear and an old pair of jeans on in a matter of seconds.
“Jo?” Stephen called out. The shower stopped, and she could hear him stepping out of the tub.
“Yeah?” Her voice was muffled as she pulled on a T-shirt.
“What’s going on?” He stood in her bedroom doorway, dripping water all over the floor, a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.
“I can’t tell you right now, but I will once you’re dressed. I have to feed Boomba. Hurry.”
“Alright, but you better start talking soon.”
Chapter 17
Amy’s house was only ten minutes away from Jo’s, but she and Stephen didn’t get a chance to talk on the way over. Yelling over the noise of a motorbike wasn’t really conducive to a deep and meaningful conversation. Still, she wouldn’t have exchanged the feel of him pressed reassuringly up against her back for anything right at that moment.
The minute they pulled into Amy’s uneven brick driveway, Jo’s sister came flying out of the house.
“Whoa,” Stephen exclaimed under his breath.
“Hell.” Jo ripped off her helmet with only seconds to spare before Amy barreled into her. Her little sister was a mess. Her soft blond curls were matted to her head. Her mascara had migrated down her cheeks, and her eyes were bloodshot. She was wearing Jo’s old pair of green cotton pajamas, the legs and sleeves rolled up. Most disturbing of all, she was barefoot, blood-red nail polish contrasting violently with the green moss on the bricks under her toes. Amy had never gone outside without some kind of footwear since she was twelve.
“This looks bad. Start talking,” Stephen said quietly as Jo wrapped her arms protectively around her sister.
“It is. I will in a minute,” Jo said grimly before gently pushing Amy away.
“Could I just say how happy I am to see you,” Amy said in a quavering voice.
“Same here.” Jo tried to keep her voice calm. “Why’re you crying, Ames? I know we’ve got a shitstorm on the way, but this isn’t like you. You’re a tough cookie, squirt.”
“You wouldn’t believe what it’s been like this morning, Jo,” Amy choked out, running her hands over her eyes, looking both childlike and ancient at the same time.
“We’ve done this before. We’ll do it again. Except we’re older and heaps tougher, alright?” Despite the rage building up inside her, she ran a hand up and down Amy’s back in what was hopefully a comforting gesture.
“Stephen?” Amy asked as if just noticing him looming next to Jo in the driveway.
“Yeah. You girls want to tell me what the hell this is all about? Because I’m beginning to get ideas and I don’t like it.”
“You haven’t told him?” Amy asked Jo, stunned.
“No time, Ames.” Jo darted a quick look at Stephen and then down at Amy. “Amy, I know it’s pretty crap in there with Mum, but could you maybe put on some coffee for us and I’ll quickly fill Stephen in out here? We haven’t had breakfast yet, so some toast or something would be great too.”
“Yeah, sure.” Amy set her shoulders. “Mum’s locked herself in the spare room anyway, so you’ve got a bit of time. Dad shouldn’t be here for a while.”
“Thanks.” Jo and Stephen watched Amy trudge back up the mossy driveway to her house.
“Jo?” Stephen asked the minute the front door closed. “Cut the crap. What the hell is going on? And no beating around the bush. You’re going to tell me and you’re going to tell me now.”
“Want to give me your helmet?” Jo asked, taking the proffered item and setting it next to her bike in the driveway. She shrugged out of her jacket while she was at it and laid that on top of the seat.
“Jo?” Stephen asked again, more sharply.
“Yeah, alright. Here’s the thing.” Jo turned to face him. He was standing with his hands crossed in front of his chest, legs apart. Definitely not comforting. She swallowed hard and tried to meet his gaze. “Stephen. Dad’s coming here, will be here in about twenty minutes, to pick Mum up. Um, he might be a little crazy when he arrives because he’s found out I was planning on going to the police in the next few days to report him for something he did fourteen years ago and something he did more recently.”
When Stephen’s eyes widened in shock, she drew a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around her waist, speaking before he could ask any of the questions written all over his face.
“You’re not going to want to hear this but . . . ah . . . when Amy and I were kids, he used to knock us and Mum around pretty bad, especially when he was drunk. Bad enough that Scott took some photos for Amy and me to blackmail him into letting us leave home when I was sixteen and Amy was twelve. That’s why we ran away after the party. We left because he found out about us going when we weren’t supposed to and he was scared people would realize that he was too drunk to go himself. He laid into us, cut Amy’s lip with a broken bottle when she got in the way. And you know how you thought you heard Scott and I having sex in the bathroom? We weren’t. He was helping me make sure I didn’t have any broken ribs from Dad hitting me earlier in the day.
“W-we didn’t stay with our aunt like Mum and Dad told everyone. We ran away and lived on our own, staying under the radar while we both finished school and I started earning us m-money. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry for ever letting you think it was you, but I couldn’t tell you. Not with Dad ready to go off any minute if anyone found out.” She bit her lip to stop it quivering with nerves and the sheer upheaval that came from telling him something so shameful.
“What the fuck?” Stephen sounded winded, his expression horrified. “No. Jo . . .”
“Yes. Just let me finish, alright? Dad’s a two-faced bastard. You’ve only seen one side. The plan was to get Mum safe up here so I could tell the police about him tomorrow. That way he couldn’t hurt her if he flipped out, but she found out this morning, and by the sounds of it, she didn’t like our plan and told him about it.” Jo paused for breath, deliberately not making full eye contact. “I’d do anything to keep you out of this and to take back all the shitty stuff you’ve probab
ly thought about yourself over the years, but we . . . we need you. While you’re around, Dad won’t do anything stupid. He values his job and reputation too much.”
“Stupid? Like what?” Stephen demanded. “You think he’s going to try to hurt you girls again? Ken? You sure about this, Jo?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. We can go into that later, alright? I just need you to believe what I’ve told you for now.” Jo ignored the sharp pang in her chest at hearing the hurt in Stephen’s voice that she’d been dreading. She risked a look at his face. The weather forecast was stormy.
“Keep talking,” Stephen said tightly. The muscles in his face were so taut, his cheekbones stood out in stark relief.
Jo shifted from foot to foot a few times, ran her sweaty palms down her thighs, and stared at the massive frangipani tree that dominated Amy’s unruly front garden.
“The job at Evangeline’s Rest means everything to Dad, so this shouldn’t be a big deal, but I warn you, there might be a bit of shouting, and maybe a few . . . a few threats. So can you just, uh . . . just back me up?”
How was it that she, a woman who made grown men wet their pants in terror on a regular basis—oil men for god’s sake—was having trouble explaining a simple thing like her parents being crazy to her boyfriend? Oh, that’s right—she didn’t have to worry about the men at work smashing her heart into smithereens.
Stephen didn’t say anything for a few seconds, his expression warring between anger and disbelief before he exploded. “Fucking hell, Jo! It would have been nice to be told about this earlier. Like, I don’t know, ‘Stephen, my dad’s psycho.’ Now that would have been a good start. You think I would have left you alone at your parents’ place that day if I’d known? Why didn’t you tell me? Do you trust me that little?”
“Save the outrage for later. Just trust me, please?” She bridged the gap between them to give him a brief, tight hug. “Please go with me on this?”
His body was rigid and furiously still. “I’m so angry right now, Jo—”
“There’s no time for that. You can be angry at me later. Trust me now. Just enough to get through this, alright?” Her knees almost gave out when she felt him relaxing a fraction.
