by P Mulholland
“And that’s when the conniving started?”
“Yep. We paid her college fees for a year in return for giving us progress reports on you via that idiot friend of yours.”
“And then Brydie got punished.”
“The reason we found out about your last lot of drinking was because you rang Mac in the middle of the night drunk and he told Nadia. Then of course, you blatantly drank bourbon with them on Saturday night while playing your titty little computer games and once again he goes back to Nadia… The rest is history.”
“So, was she also reporting to Malone?”
“She reported to me and I promptly passed it on to Isaac.”
“You must be so proud of yourself, making Bryde’s life a misery.”
“Needs must.”
“Fuck you!” I slammed his office door so hard the glass walls of his office shook.
Brydie always said it was me and her against everyone else. Now I knew she was speaking the truth. You can’t trust anyone anymore. Naturally I wanted to tell her what I discovered, that our little team needed to stick together, but she was so far away, it seemed futile. I was alone this time. Me against the world.
Me: I found out your GF is the nark.
Mac: Are you sure?
Me: Ask her. Ask her about the deal with the devil ie Corey.
Me: I don’t want you working for me if I can’t trust you.
Mac: You can trust me, dude. I’ll talk to Nadia and get back to you.
Brydes,
Come back to me. The whole world has lost its color.
Love Jake xxx
Chapter Thirty Eight
Day Thirty Two Without Brydes
Jake
Dearest, gorgeous Jake,
I’m still in the southern hemisphere, spending some time in New Zealand. Wow! You need to come here. Actually, we should come here together. Maybe explore the outer Pacific Islands as well like Fiji and Rarotonga one day. I can teach you how to scuba dive and you can teach me how to cook Italian food since you got so good at it. Are you still cooking? I guess it’s not the same cooking for one. You might have a roommate by now. I mean, apart from Newman.
I’m sorry things are shit at work. You’re right, we made a good team. Do you need me to smack Corey’s face in? I’d do it, you know. Just watch me.
I’ve attached some pics of the mountains and lakes of New Zealand, plus one of me bathing in a natural thermal pool by a beach. It’s Summer here, my favorite season. I bet it’s snowing in Chicago. I hope you keep warm and eat good healthy food. Sorry if I sound motherly. (:
I’ll be heading back to the States soon. I’d like us to catch up in the flesh, if you want to.
Love B xxx
P.S. Give Newman a big kiss and cuddle for me.
P.P. S. Is love an emotion or a state of being?
I read her email with Newman lying across my lap and a tumbler of Old Rip in my hand. She’s coming back to the states soon. Wherever she’s landing I’m going to chase her down, throw her over my shoulder and bring her back to my bed.
I gazed out the window at the glistening falling snow caught by the orange glow of the apartment lights. Christmas was just around the corner and I’d like to spend it with my two favorite people, Newman and Brydes.
Dear Brydes,
Love is definitely a state of being.
Love Jake xxx
P.S. Are you kidding? Of course I want to catch up in the flesh.
Obviously I’m an expert in the art of cold turkey. It lasted all of twelve days and that was mostly because I hadn’t heard from her. I had decided during these correspondences that I wanted her in my life full-time. I didn’t want anyone else. I wanted Brydie O’Neal. Period.
I didn’t want people, namely family members, telling me that it’s time to start dating again. I never liked dating in the first place and didn’t want to date anyone unless they’ve got the name Brydie O’Neal written on their passport.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Day Fifty Eight Without Her
Jake
She didn’t come back to the states as soon as I hoped, instead she stayed in New Zealand enjoying the southern hemisphere summer. When I read the email, I felt like my guts had been ripped out and I was back to feeling like I should cut her out of my life.
She got a short-term job picking peaches and nectarines in the orchards of Northland, so she could spend the weekends diving. She spent Christmas day with the people she boarded with at the orchard and attached a pic of all her new friends sitting at a food-laden table smiling, wearing tee-shirts and shorts. Assholes. Meanwhile I shivered my butt off making small talk with my family, then left early, so I could start drinking.
I took a few days off work over the Christmas New Year period then went back to work, because I had nothing else to do. Croy asked me if I wanted to go to Tijuana with him. It was tempting and I probably should’ve gone, but for some reason I had little enthusiasm for it. I think Soph was right, I was depressed.
During this time Mac had hit a wall as far as investigating what happened the night she was assaulted. The fear remained in the back of my mind that those thugs might seek revenge one day. So I guess Brydie being at the bottom of the world was a good thing for now.
I hadn’t had an email from her since Christmas Day and I wondered if this was the beginning of the end. We were drifting apart. She was having such a great time without me, why would she be in a hurry to reconnect?
When I got home from work there was an oblong parcel wrapped in brown paper lying against my door. There was no return address and it was too light to be a delivery from Kentucky, so I placed it on the kitchen counter and fed Newman. Then I got changed into my sweats, put the heater on high, poured a glass of Rip, then ripped the paper off the parcel.
As soon as I opened it, I knew who’d sent it. Inside the wrapper was a Chucky doll, a cheap rip-off of the real thing, with an envelope stuck to his creepy little face. There was only one person on this entire planet who would send me this. For the first time in weeks I laughed. Not just a sarcastic snigger, but a genuine laugh. Newman pricked his ears up and tilted his head at me, wondering about this strange noise coming from his owner.
I reluctantly removed the envelope so the doll’s face was glaring at me, then covered it over with a tea towel. Inside the envelope was a card that read:
Merry belated Christmas Jake!
I am back on American soil.
Come visit me!
Love Bxxx
I booked my flights right then and there, also booking Newman into a dog hotel specifically for dogs with special needs. I then wondered what I was going to do with the doll. I’d have to shut it up somewhere so it didn’t break out of the packet and run around the place trying to kill me. My skin crawled at the thought of it. I shoved it into the closet of the spare bedroom then slammed the door shut so it had two doors to break through. I honestly didn’t think I could sleep with that thing in my house.
When I took out my credit card to pay for the flights, I came across the business card Mac gave me of that shifty dude with the name Peacock. Mac didn’t get far with his investigations. If I wanted to take them further this was the guy I needed to call. I paused for a moment then put his card away again. Trouble attracted trouble. The last thing I needed right now was more trouble.
Chapter Forty
Jake
There she was.
I spotted her in the airport before she saw me. She was looking in the wrong direction, her forehead creased in worry lines as if she thought she’d missed me. I paused for a moment to breathe her in. She was my happy place. Her hair the color of sunshine, a smile that lit up my world and tattoos that drove me crazy.
One of the reasons I needed to see her was to test my heart. Did I still have feelings for her? They say absence makes the heart grow stronger. Did that apply to Brydie and me?
The answer was yes. Seeing her standing there in mini shorts and a Pearl Jam tee-shirt, pink Chuc
k Taylors and that golden ponytail, and knowing that as soon as I touch her my skin would burn. I loved her. I was in love with her.
As I drew nearer to her, my body began to grow rigid from nerves and butterflies fluttered about in my stomach. I knew how I felt about her, I needed to know if she felt the same way. Unrequited love was not an equation I was used to being on the wrong end of. It was me always that rejected women, not other way around.
I decided in that tiny moment just before I reached out to touch her shoulder that I would make these three days together light, happy and fun, no matter what feelings we had for each other.
She turned and grinned when she saw my face. It was as if time had slowed and Brydie and I were in our own bubble, sheltered from the hustle and bustle of the airport. A second later we were wrapped in each other’s arms while hundreds of people walked around us. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she took my face in her hands to take a proper look at me. We had no words. We couldn’t speak. We were a couple of bodies of bundled up in nerves, holding our breaths, waiting for one or the other to break the ice.
Then we laughed at our silence, hugging again.
“You look great.” I was the first one to speak. She did look great. Even when she was battered and bruised, she still looked gorgeous to me.
“So do you.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “The stubble looks great.”
It was weird small talk from two people who hadn’t seen each other in while. I had so much to say to her, yet I could barely get a sentence out. I’m guessing she was the same.
I rubbed my unshaven chin, grinning, pleased that she liked it. It was for her. Everything was for her.
“Shall we go?” she said, taking my hand and pulling me along.
As soon I spotted the old Volkswagen van, painted orange and yellow I knew it was hers. I was certain she never mentioned owning a van, always referring to having a car back in San Diego. But I expected nothing less from someone who wasn’t fussed on fancy objects. I just hoped it’d last the journey to wherever we were going.
Already my spirits were soaring from the warmth of the sun and sensing the sea nearby. I was in Brydie’s playground, her territory and it felt like a privilege to be there. In the back of the van were two surfboards, a thin mattress and…did I just see a blue bikini? Things were looking up.
She paused to look at me again, before starting the van up. “How have you been?” she asked, looking me in the eye. This wasn’t light-hearted small-talk, she was genuinely seeking the truth.
I shrugged. “Good, now I’m here with you,” a genuinely honest answer.
She smiled and I took the opportunity to take her gorgeous face in my hands and kiss her lips. We kissed for a few minutes, breathing out our nerves. I couldn’t lie, I wanted to get her into bed ASAP. If not a bed, then the back of the van would do. I only hoped it had good suspension for the rocking and rolling, like the way we wrestled in the sheets after her bones healed. Good times. The best.
Her lips were soft and moist and her mouth, a delicious exploration of desire. God, I loved this woman.
She pulled away from my mouth and hummed. “Someone tastes like liquor.”
“Oh, yeah. I had a tiny amount on the plane to calm my nerves.”
She flashed me a smile. “Freedom tastes good, doesn’t it, Jakey?”
“It sure does, Chucky.”
Just like the first time I met her, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The way she turned her head to look for traffic, the way she held the steering wheel, the way her hair was tied up messily, partially coming loose.
She slapped me playfully on the arm. “Stop staring at me!” she yelled, half-laughing. “You’re making me nervous. I’ll crash into someone.”
I felt a little embarrassed for getting caught perving, but I was seeing a side to her that was new to me and I liked it. “Okay, I’ll stare out the window.”
“We’re going to a party tonight,” she announced. “A beach party.”
“I was hoping to get you all on my own.”
“We’ll just go for a couple of hours. And then tomorrow I’m going to teach you how to surf. Did you bring your bathing suit?”
“Yes. But my legs are lily white.”
She laughed. “Inlanders.”
“So, how long have you been back here?”
“Two weeks.”
“That long?”
“Yeah. It felt strange.”
“In what way?”
She pulled up at some lights. “It’s hard to explain. It felt different this time. Normally, I do all this exciting travel, meet lots of new people from all over the world, then I come back here and settle back down into a mundane life. But this time, something was missing when I came back.”
I was hoping she was meaning me. I was missing. I remained silent.
“I haven’t got a job yet, so I had too much time on my hands to think.”
“About what?”
“My time in Chicago with you. Travelling overseas. The Ocean Warrior experience. Getting beaten up. Lots of things.”
“The apartment is definitely empty and quiet without you in it.”
“That’s the thing, though. We had a routine. You always came home ten past six in your fancy suit, we took turns cooking, then in the evenings we sat on the couch and watched movies together. Then in the weekend we went food shopping and…” She trailed off. “I think I just missed having someone to do normal stuff with.”
“So, you didn’t miss my body then?” I joked.
She laughed. “Yes, I did miss your body, Jake.”
“Good. I’m glad. ‘Cos I sure as hell missed yours.”
“Why haven’t you found someone else?” Her words stabbed me in the chest.
“I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” Unrequited love. I kept staring out the window as my heart sank into oblivion.
“There were many times when I was traveling where I wished you were with me to share the experience.”
“Really?”
“Maybe you could go with me next time. I mean, not on the Ocean Warrior obviously, but normal holiday travel.”
“We’d have to go first class. I don’t know if I could handle flying that far in economy.”
“So, you’d consider it?” she asked.
I turned to look at her. She was serious. “This is probably not the appropriate time to have this conversation, ’cos you’re driving and you might veer off the road and kill me, but I find you really confusing.”
“In what way?”
“I’ve made it clear from day one how I feel about you. Yet you’ve always been reluctant to open up to me. You were eager to leave me, yet when you suddenly feel lonely, you want me back. My question to you is…are you just fucking me around?”
“It wasn’t you I was eager to leave,” she said. “I hated leaving you. But I also hated that I hated leaving you.”
I took a deep breath to mull over what she just said. “See, confusing.”
We sat in an uncomfortable silence as she drove along the busy streets, eventually coming out into a beach suburb where the traffic was slower. I decided to drop the topic of conversation as it was ruining the light-hearted atmosphere that I wanted for my three days. Sun, sand, surf and Brydie O’Neal. Why did I open my big fat mouth?
She pulled up outside a condo about four stories high painted terracotta. “Right, Mister,” she said heatedly to me. “We’re going to have this out.”
“What?”
“This conversation. You’re right, I’ve been unfair to you. Get your bags, we’ll talk inside.”
The interior of her apartment was different to how I imagined it. I expected airy and light with bright colors splashed about. Instead, it was gloomy, facing the wrong way to catch the sun and was in need of a lick of paint. It was also cramped, the couch squeezed into the living room, just like the queen sized bed was squeezed into the bedroom.
I sat down on the couch to receive my grilling an she s
at in an old rocking chair opposite. The rocking chair was so wedged in between the television stand and side wall that it failed to rock, when she sat on it.
“I don’t want to ruin this weekend,” I said.
“We’re not,” she said. “We’re going to get this out in the open and then we’re going to have a great time together.”
“Are you reading me my rights?”
“No.” She was about say something, then got up to pour a glass of water. “Do you want one?”
“Sure.”
While she was in the kitchen avoiding my eye, she said, “I’m not very good at expressing my feelings, Jake.”
“No kidding.”
She shot me a look.
“Just spit it out.”
“I found myself falling for you and didn’t like it,” she said, still standing in the kitchen with her head down.
My whole body lit up when she said that. “Because of my age?”
“Yes, and where you live.”
“So when you say ‘falling’, can you be a little more specific?” I knew exactly what she meant, I just wanted to hear it uttered from her sultry lips.
She sighed. It was pure torture for her.
“Jeez Brydes, I’m not asking you to recite Shakespeare.”
“You know, the L word.”
I grinned. “Are you saying you licorice me?”
“No.”
“Labrador me?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Labia me?”
She screwed her face up.
“Sorry, step too far. One track mind.”
“You know what I mean,” she said, staring down at the sink.
“So just to clarify, you actually fell in licorice with me?”
