Butcherbird

by Cassie Hart

  Did he want to run the risk that Jena might find his equipment on another day?

  He pulled the drawer back open and shoved the camera in alongside the computer, and then set to work packing up the rest of the stuff into cases and stashing it all under the desk. He’d figure out what to do with it later – what to do with this revelation later – but right now there was a huge mess on the floor and he felt like he owed it to Jena to clean it up before anyone else found it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  JENA

  Jena sliced onions and garlic, then tossed them into the hot frying pan. Oh, shit, oil. She needed oil. The smell of charring onion hit her nose; she wrinkled it and just tipped the oil in on top.

  She’d maybe – maybe – had a drink. Or two. Or was it two strong drinks? It wasn’t like she’d managed to eat anything since the barn, and there was no one here to talk to; Will was keeping his distance, Rose was sleeping – she was always sleeping – and Cade wasn’t back from town yet. So, rum it was.

  Oh, rum. Her old friend. She took a sip from her glass. The ice was chilling it nicely; the burn in her throat was good, so good.

  Meat. Right. Dinner. She could do this. Cooking was easy.

  There was a thud on the roof, and another loud crash that sent her to the floor, her arms over her head. She stayed there for a moment, and then the sound evened out and she realised it was just rain. Big, heavy drops, like bird bodies plummeting onto the roof. But just rain.

  She exhaled, inhaled, and stood on shaky legs, gripping the kitchen bench to keep herself steady. And then she reached for her glass, willing her hand not to shake as she lifted it and knocked back the rest of the drink.

  Shit, dinner.

  She stirred, hoping the onions weren’t too badly burned. Not that she cared. She probably wouldn’t eat it anyway.

  Still, she added the meat and stock, letting it brown before adding vegetables and tomato paste, then finally putting the pasta in another pot on the stove. Might as well at least look like she was trying.

  The front door opened and she looked up, waiting to see who it was. Cade bustled into the kitchen a few moments later, arms laden with bags from the grocery store. ‘I have hunted. Me, provider.’ He grunted like a caveman as he hefted the bags onto the bench and then swooped her off her feet, swinging her around before placing a kiss on her lips.

  He pulled back. ‘Hitting it so early? I didn’t think you’d want to get drunk in your grandmother’s house.’ The words stung a little, a call back to when she wouldn’t have sex here.

  ‘You haven’t had the day I have.’ She glared at him, already anticipating his speech. He didn’t care that she was drinking, but he never liked it when she drank alone. Not that she was alone; there were other people in the house.

  ‘Tell me more? No, actually, hold off and let me get changed. I feel all sticky. I’ll be down soon.’ He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and left.

  What the hell? She was about to set off after him, to find out why the sudden change in behaviour, but the pot boiled over.

  ‘Fuck!’

  She turned back to the kitchen and twisted the knob on the element. She was adjusting the lid so the steam could escape when Will came in.

  ‘Hey, can you watch this for a minute? I just need to ask Cade something. Thanks!’ she called behind her. She knew he’d do it, but she didn’t want to give him the chance to say no.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she gripped the bannister to keep herself steady and then picked her way up without making a noise. She crept down the landing and listened at the bathroom door, but he wasn’t in there, so she continued to the bedroom.

  ‘No, I swear. She doesn’t suspect a thing. Don’t worry.’ He stopped talking and there was a pause. Jena’s heart felt like it had frozen. ‘Yeah, those were some good waves today. I’ll sneak out again when I can. Hey, I better go, I’m meant to be getting cleaned up.’

  She leaned against the wall, trying to drag air back into her lungs, to make herself move. She was torn between wanting to barge into the room and let the accusations fly and just going back downstairs and pouring herself another drink. Maybe both. She could do both.

  She slammed the door open and scowled at Cade, who turned towards her, a look of surprise on his face.

  ‘Hey, Jena. You okay there?’ He backed up a step, hitting the edge of the bed.

  ‘What don’t I suspect, Cade? Huh?’ She moved closer with every word until she was jabbing her finger into his chest. He tumbled back onto the bed and looked at her with wide eyes.

  ‘Jena, come on. It’s nothing, really,’ he said, stuttering the words out. ‘You know me, I wouldn’t hurt you. I was just trying to organise something special. For you. Because ….’

  ‘Because why? Because you’ve always been so thoughtful and romantic? I don’t think so, Cade. I don’t think so at all. Why the hell are you here if you don’t want to be?’

  Cade stopped moving. He didn’t say a word and his expression was unreadable. Jena snorted and turned away from him.

  ‘I should have known.’ She headed for the door, but he came after, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around.

  ‘It’s not that, I swear.’ He looked her in the eyes and she wanted to believe him. Wanted to so badly. ‘You just took me by surprise. That outburst ….’

  Jena shrugged, tried to convince herself it didn’t matter. ‘Look, its fine. Whatever. I don’t care.’

  ‘Jena. Jena, snap out of it. Come on, it’s me. Cade.’ He had a pleading look in his eyes, but she’d seen the same one applied to family members and friends when he needed a few bucks.

  ‘Yeah, it’s you. Cade. The guy who can never keep a job. The guy who kept it casual as long as possible. The guy who’d rather avoid difficult conversations. The one who thought maybe this trip would be a great way to nab some antiques to flick on for some quick cash. Heaven forbid you stop to think about just how fucking traumatic this whole experience is for me. Nope, all about the money, the quick win.’ As the words poured out of her, she realised it wasn’t entirely fair; but he should know. He should just know how fucking scared she was.

  If she just kept drinking then maybe it would all go away. Because maybe if they got out of there soon enough, she wouldn’t have to work through it herself; she could just stomp right on to the next stage of her shitty little life.

  She needed another drink.

  She needed him out of her face.

  ‘You’re such a bitch when you drink.’ He grabbed his bag and headed for the stairs.

  Mission accomplished.

  Her stomach clenched.

  ‘Wait! I’m making your favourite for dinner. Spag bol,’ she called out, chasing him down the hallway. He’d made it to the bottom of the stairs and was grabbing the keys from the hook. ‘And you’re right,’ she blurted. ‘I’m a bitch. I’m sorry, Cade.’

  Cade huffed out a small, bitter laugh. ‘And I’m done. At least for today.’ With that, he opened the door and left.

  Crap. She’d really done it this time. He was gone and she was alone. Well, not exactly alone, but not with him. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know. It wasn’t like she’d told him. Hell, she was barely admitting it to herself.

  Jena pushed the palms of her hands against her eyes, making everything go black and then spark colours. She wasn’t going to cry. She’d basically told him to bugger off and he’d gone.

  He was gone.

  Well screw him.

  Couldn’t he see that she needed him now? That no matter what had gone on, this was hard. The hardest thing she’d ever done, and that was before she’d set foot in that barn. She shuddered, trying to keep her thoughts away from that.

  Time for another drink.

  Dampen it all down, dull the world.

  She headed for the kitchen, ignoring the look Will was giving her and pouring another drink. ‘Don’t even. You were there, you know I need this.’

  ‘Do you want to pour me one too?’ he asked.


  She looked up at him, surprise arching her eyebrows. ‘Really?’

  ‘Like you said, I was there too.’ He shrugged.

  Jena grabbed a second glass and poured his drink, making it a little weaker than her own. She slid it across the bench towards him and took up position at the oven, stirring the mince absentmindedly.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it, just so you know,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not going to make you talk about it. But if you change your mind, I’m around.’ He took a sip of his drink and she caught his wince out of the corner of her eye. ‘I don’t drink a lot, but I could probably get used to this.’

  Jena laughed. He was so ridiculous. But he was here, and she thought that maybe he wanted to talk.

  Did Cade want to talk? She had to admit that she didn’t really know. They’d both avoided going deep, so maybe it was her fault. Maybe it was both their faults; maybe that’s just how it was and it couldn’t change. She hoped she was wrong and that he’d come back, but there were no guarantees in life, she knew that.

  She grabbed the tongs and checked the pasta. Done enough. ‘Right, let’s eat. Is Rose having a meal with us or is she going to continue hiding in her room?’ Jena asked as she spun around to face Will.

  ‘I’ll go and ask her,’ he said.

  He was out the room before she knew what to make of the response. She didn’t really care. All she cared about was that she had enough alcohol to make her pass out. After that, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

  She could smell smoke and she was back in the barn; it was burning her nostrils and stinging her eyes.

  Oh. Dinner.

  She turned to the stove and saw that she’d dropped some pasta onto the element. She switched everything off and fanned the air to dissipate the smell. There was no way in hell she was opening the window because something might fly in, and she’d had enough of that today.

  Will came back into the kitchen, but didn’t comment on her behaviour. ‘She said she will, but she’s not very hungry.’

  ‘That makes two of us,’ Jena muttered. And then louder, ‘Do you want to set the table and wheel her in?’

  ‘Wheel her ….’ He raised an eyebrow, but then shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face. ‘I’ll get everything ready.’

  ‘Fab!’ She gave him a grin, though she didn’t mean it, she just wanted to see his unease at the way she was acting. He was so easy to unbalance, but then, unbalanced came naturally to her.

  She turned away from him and set about dishing up. She was just starting to put food on a fourth plate when she remembered that Cade was gone.

  She should call him, or text him. Something …. She left the kitchen and ran upstairs to grab her phone and do just that.

  Sorry I was such a bitch. Then she put the phone in her pocket and jogged down the stairs. Her foot missed a step and the pattern on the wallpaper blurred, but she managed to catch herself on the bannister, then considered sliding down it like she had as a kid. Though she’d probably just end up on her ass.

  She hit the hallway with a giggle, glad that she’d reached out to Cade.

  He’d come back now, surely.

  When she got to the bench she frowned, sure that she’d left the food there. She turned for the doorway to find Will entering.

  ‘I took the plates through,’ he said. ‘You okay? You’re looking a little—’

  ‘Drunk? Thanks! It was just the look I was going for. Don’t lecture me on the way I do things.’ She walked up to him and poked him in the chest with her finger. ‘After this afternoon, I’m surprised you’re not drunk too.’

  ‘Jena,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I don’t even know how to start making sense of what happened today, but I think we should talk about it.’

  He had such an earnest expression in his eyes. She couldn’t stand to look at it, so she stepped back and waited for him to turn away, then followed him down to the dining room.

  Rose was sitting there in her wheelchair already. Jena really had no idea why the old woman got up for dinner. It wasn’t like she actually wanted to talk about anything, but she had a smile on her face, like Will had warned her about the state she was in.

  Well, screw them both.

  She could play nice.

  ‘Good evening, Rose, you’re looking well tonight.’

  ‘Thank you, Jena,’ Rose said. ‘And how was your day? I heard from John and he said he’d bumped into you over by the river. I should have let you know that we leased out some land. It got too much for me years ago.’

  ‘That would have been good if you had told him I was here, but it was fine.’ She was trying so hard to keep her words straight and precise. Lining them up nicely. She could behave. ‘They’ve invited me over for dinner sometime, so I’ll need to grab their number off you.’ Jena stuck her fork into the pile of pasta and twisted it, but the fork kept sliding away and she couldn’t seem to get anything on it. She didn’t even like spaghetti bolognaise.

  ‘It’s in the book by the phone, little bird.’

  Jena looked at Rose. ‘Why do you call me that?’ she asked. ‘You’ve always called me that, for as long as I can remember. Even after you sent me away you called me that.’

  ‘It’s what your name means, and you were named for the birds. They’re good luck, you know.’

  ‘I hate birds. You should know that. After what happened ….’

  ‘It wasn’t the birds’ fault, what happened,’ Rose said, her voice firmer than it had been. ‘In fact, if it hadn’t been for the birds, you might have died as well.’

  ‘And would that’ve been so bad?’ Jena lifted her chin, challenging Rose with her glare. ‘Honestly. Not like I had much of a life after that anyway.’

  Rose sighed. ‘You’ve got years left to change that.’ The unsaid ‘not like me’ hung in the air between them, and it almost – almost – made Jena back down.

  ‘And yet so many wasted. What, with my loser boyfriend? Yeah, don’t think I didn’t catch the way you looked at him.’ She let the fork clatter against the dish. ‘No job, and no home. No one to turn to when things go badly. You think you were doing me a favour, sending me off to Aunt Pat’s? I never fitted in there. She had no idea what to do with me and I just reminded her of her dead sister. The only reason she took me in was because she felt so bad about what had happened.’

  Why had she felt so bad though? Jena leaned back in her chair, trying to work that one out. Guilt was a strange beast, she knew that, and there were any number of reasons why Pat might have felt like she was somehow at fault in the whole situation.

  Jena was familiar with survivor’s guilt.

  ‘We all felt bad. I still feel bad.’ Rose said the words firmly, as if she was putting all her feeling into them. ‘I never stopped missing you and I will go to my grave wondering whether I made the right decision.’ She leaned forward, coughing into her napkin. ‘You’d do well to stop letting alcohol cloud your judgement and realise the world is waiting for you to grow up and take control of your life.’

  ‘Take control? You think I’m not in control?’ Jena grabbed her glass and knocked back the rest of the contents. ‘I am. It’s why I came here. Because I wanted to know what happened. I need to know, Rose.’ She pointed a finger at her grandmother. ‘And I’m not going to let you die until I do. I’m going to make sure Will here gives you the best care he possibly can because ….’ She nodded her head, feeling sure of herself. ‘You owe me this.’

  Rose looked at her for a minute, the gentle haze in her eyes turning harder, her pupils black and wide like a magpie’s. ‘You’re not ready to know. As much as I wish you were, you’re not half the woman you should be. Not one who can live up to the family legacy. I had such hope for you, and now you’re just a drunk kicking around with a loser, like you said.’ Rose spat those last words out, and then turned to Will. ‘I’m done. Don’t let her in to see me until she’s sobered up and made some good choices.’

  ‘No.’ Jena st
ood up so fast she knocked her chair over. ‘You don’t get to run away like this. Dump some heavy guilt on me about family hopes and legacies that no one’s ever told me about and then shut me out. No.’ Jena crossed her arms over her chest.

  Will got up and came over to stand in front of her.

  ‘Hey, how about you leave this for now, and I’ll soften her up? She can be stubborn.’ He glanced back at Rose. ‘I don’t think you’re going to get anything out of her tonight. Not like this. Just …. Have another drink?’ he offered.

  Jena clenched her jaw, tempted to say something to him as well. Tempted to pick something up and throw it, she was so frustrated with this whole situation. She balled her hands into fists, tucking them into her armpits to resist the urge, and then a sudden flash of her father throwing a glass across the room went through her mind and she dropped her arms, taking a step back.

  ‘Yeah. Okay,’ she said, turning away and rushing from the room.

  She went upstairs and flopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a minute before she closed her eyes tight and tried to remember more.

  Had he been a drunk? Or was he just angry? And if so, why?

  There had been other times, she knew that now, when he’d lost his temper, when she could hear him yelling at her mother downstairs, hear his footsteps, angry and hard on the wooden floor. The occasional thump. As a child she’d thought it was just fighting, normal fighting, but now she was older and viewing it through more experienced eyes.

  Had her father been abusing her mother?

  He was the one responsible for what had happened to their family. It dawned on her then. Her memories were twisted, but she could see it so clearly now and her body ached with the knowledge.

  It was him.

  The red around her mother’s neck wasn’t a scarf, it was blood. Her blood. The blood from her family, running everywhere.

  You were always my favourite.

  He’d said those words to her and she’d thought it meant he loved her the most, but what he really meant was to kill her last. Save her until the last moment. It was pure luck that she’d needed to pee, that she’d been shut out of the barn and unable to get back to them.