Eleven Reasons: The heart-wrenching sequel to Eleven Rules (The Eleven Series Book 2)

by PJ Vye

  “Are you homesick?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” She really wasn’t ready to tell her dad she’d accidentally gotten pregnant and had a Samoan child and, oh, by the way, could she have some money because she lost her job because she helped a criminal extort over a quarter of a million dollars from an orphanage? Nope. She wasn’t ready for that conversation.

  “Who would make you feel better right now?”

  Laurence looked at her with puppy eyes that told her he wanted it to be him.

  But it would never be him.

  “Karina,” she said, the first name that came into her head after Mataio.

  He didn’t look as disappointed as she’d expected. “Why Karina?”

  “She’s my best friend.” Even though six years ago Sunny had stolen a tour from her and left her with the rent payments and zero notice, Karina was the kind of person who could forgive anybody just about anything. They FaceTimed weekly now, but she missed being with her friend in person. The last new friend Sunny had tried to make was Carrie, and look how that turned out.

  “How did you two meet?” He wore a secret smile Sunny didn’t quite understand.

  She was sure she’d told him this already, but she repeated it anyway. “We learnt violin at school together, then university, then toured. We shared a flat in London, played on X-Factor and Britain’s Got Talent. Then I took another touring job and she stayed behind. I moved to Australia, and she stayed in London.”

  “You should ask her to come to Samoa.” There was that knowing smirk again. “She could meet Atali.”

  What was he up to? “I can’t ask her. It’s too much.” How good it would be to see her. “Anyway, I have to keep looking for work.”

  “I really don’t want to keep banging on about this, but if you need to borrow money, I have some savings. You just need to ask.”

  Sunny couldn’t take his money. There was a pit she felt like she might be falling into, and not borrowing money from this guy might be the last branch she could hold onto. “Thanks. I know. I’m okay for now.”

  Sunny had asked Tulula for money yesterday, and it ended in both women crying. Uncle Akamu hadn’t been able to work because of his bad back and Junior had given all the interview money to his fiancée’s family. They were all broke.

  “What kind of things would they want to know, if I sold my story?”

  Laurence sat up on the couch. “Firstly, please talk to me before you talk to anyone else. I know who’ll pay the most, and who’ll be the most sensitive. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “You can pretty much dictate the terms. Tell them the bits you want to tell them. They’ll find a way to get more from you than you want to give. They’ll put pressure on you to do a television interview as well, most likely. Offer you more money. But it’s harder to keep your secrets when the lights are on.”

  Yeah. She’d seen it first-hand. “What kind of things might they ask?”

  “What was your relationship with Mataio?”

  “Is that your question or theirs?” she asked with a smile.

  “Both.”

  “We were friends.”

  “How did you meet?”

  She remembered how lost she’d been. Ready to leave Judd, and weighing up which option she would be brave enough to take. She saw only two. Leave or die. Mataio had assumed she’d planned the second option and asked her to look after Tulula’s overweight family dog, Ipo. She missed that dog. She hoped the family he’d been left with were taking good care of him.

  Laurence waited for her answer.

  “I lived in an apartment above his laboratory,” she said.

  “The lab he used to discover C2HO?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t know it at the time.”

  “What did you think he was doing?”

  “Cooking meth? I didn’t know he was a medical doctor either. I just thought he was some weird recluse. We never talked to each other for over a year. And then suddenly, he was visiting all the time.”

  “What changed?”

  Laurence leaned in and she could tell he really wanted to know the answer. “He noticed I was depressed.” It was easier to admit to than she’d thought. She also recognised she hadn’t been that low again—even despite the no job, no friends, no money thing.

  “How did he know you were depressed?”

  She shrugged. “The way I looked. The way I sounded. I don’t know. He just knew. He tried to help me. He asked me to look after his dog. He thought there was less chance I’d kill myself if I had a dog to look after.”

  Laurence gave her a deadpan reaction. “Why did you want to kill yourself?”

  “I’m not sure I did. It was just one of the options. I was in a bad relationship and it was the quickest way out of it.”

  “Did Mataio save you?”

  Sunny knew the answer but didn’t give it. “How much do you think they’d pay for my story?”

  Laurence took a sharp intake of breath. “Is it true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thousands.”

  “Would they pay for me and Atali to travel back to Australia?”

  “Why would you want to go to Australia? Your dad’s in the UK.”

  She couldn’t tell him the truth, but she knew he suspected. Laurence had been generous, paying all the rent and buying most of the food since she’d lost her job. “I’d rather do the interview in Australia. I can get a job and save to go back to the UK.”

  Sunny spoke convincingly and he might have believed her.

  But he didn’t. “You want to see him.”

  Sunny wasn’t sure whether to admit it or not and the pause in the conversation made her realise how quiet the room was. Even Atali’s Playschool playlist was better than the silence. The only reason not to tell him was to spare his feelings, and she didn’t have the energy anymore. After the weeks of questioning from the police, and the realisation that Carrie had taken advantage of her finally set in, she had the energy for very little else. Finding another job proved impossible given Violoa’s influence, which spread to every English-speaking employer in the city.

  She had to leave Samoa, and without any financial support from Tulula, she had nowhere to turn for the money. Except Laurence. Maybe if she told him the truth and he still wanted to give her the money, she could take it. “Yes, I want to see Mataio.”

  “Does he want to see you?”

  “No.”

  “You can’t see a prisoner unless they agree to it.”

  “So how did you get to see him?”

  “I wrote him a letter explaining what I could offer.”

  “And what was that?”

  “Whatever he needed. My timing was perfect, because he needed something.”

  “What?”

  “Money. Protection.”

  The idea of Mataio being threatened made her skin crawl. He wouldn’t fight back. At least the Mataio she used to know, wouldn’t fight back.

  “If he knew I was there, he might agree.”

  Laurence shrugged. His shoulders said, ‘maybe’, but his face said, ‘unlikely’. “Look, you need to do what you gotta do.”

  “What will you do, if I go?”

  “I’ll probably shrivel up into a small ball and rock in a corner somewhere.”

  She screwed up her nose at his sarcasm. It hurt a little, but then she guessed he was hurting, too. “Haha. I mean, would you stay here, in this apartment? I can sign the lease over to you. You can keep the furniture…what there is.”

  Laurence moved closer to her on the couch and faced her. “What do you want, Sunny?”

  She couldn’t look at him. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, what kind of life do you dream of?”

  She closed her eyes. More things she couldn’t talk to Laurence about. “I don’t have the luxury of dreams, Laurence.” She kept her hands closed tightly in her lap. He was so close she could smell his expensive aftershave. For a man who could sleep on just about anything, and carried h
is entire possessions in a backpack, he liked the top of the range in fragrances. Sunny wasn’t top of the range. Not even close.

  “Do you want a house? A family? Security?”

  Sunny considered for a moment. Did she? The answer found its way to her lips. “Yes.”

  “Do you want those things with Mataio?”

  “Yes.” It came out before she could stop it. “But I can’t have that.”

  “He’s Atali’s father?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can understand why you’re holding onto that dream.”

  His voice was sincere and warm and when he put his hand on hers, she couldn’t help but hold on. She heard his breath, in and out, in and out. She counted it maybe three times before she turned her head to face him. He waited, and watched.

  Slowly, he moved his lips toward hers, and she didn’t turn away. When they connected, the instant warmth and fullness surged not only through her lips but down her entire body. They leaned in together and his body pressed against hers. Her pajamas were thin and she could feel his heat. How long had it been since she’d felt a male body against her? Three years? She was so lonely. This wasn’t right but she was so lonely.

  She found herself rolling onto his lap, straddling him on the couch, kissing his mouth, his neck, his face. His hands crushed her against him and she let herself be held, tight, secure and wanted.

  He stood and lifted her easily, and carried her to the bed. As he took off his shirt, Sunny heard someone on the stairs outside the front door. A second later, the key went into the lock, a short tap on the door and Tulula’s voice called out, “Sunny, please come out here.”

  Laurence’s eyes widened, and he didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “Be there in a tick, Tulula.” Conscious of her pyjama status, Sunny straightened the legs of her pants and headed back out to the living room, closing the bedroom door behind her, so Laurence could sort himself out. With any luck, Tulula wouldn’t be long and would never need to know he was in her room.

  The minute Sunny laid eyes on Tulula, she knew it wouldn’t be a quick visit. “What’s wrong?” she asked and immediately sat down, her arms around her aunt. “What’s happened, Tulula? Tell me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Her aunt couldn’t seem to put two words together and Sunny went into panic mode. Was it Uncle Akamu? Junior?

  “Can I get you some water? Tea?” asked Sunny.

  Tulula shook her head and continued to silently sob.

  “Tell me, Aunt, please. I hate seeing you so sad. What’s happening?”

  There was a tap on the front door and Uncle Akamu and Junior appeared. They both hugged Sunny and joined Tulula on the couch.

  “We just had to park the car,” said Junior. “Has she told you yet?”

  “No. She’s been too upset. What’s going on?”

  “That detective on La’ei’s case called us this morning.”

  Sunny remembered the man. Ronson. His name would be etched into her memory forever. The detective who took Mataio away.

  Her stomach dropped as an image of Mataio, beaten to death on a prison floor, sprang before her eyes. “Please no. Not Mataio? Don’t tell me. Don’t say it.” Her voice seemed to spiral up in a way she didn’t recognise. She imagined him not defending himself, too afraid of getting out of control, too afraid of being like his father, suffering because he thought he deserved to suffer. She couldn’t bear it.

  “No, no,” reassured Junior. “Mataio is fine. At least we think he is.”

  Now it was Sunny’s turn to cry. Not silent like Tulula. Loud, overwhelming gulps, like air had somehow left her system and only just returned. She let out a long groan and threw her head onto Uncle Akamu’s shoulder. He never spoke much, but when he did, she listened.

  “That boy will always find a way to survive. Know that, Manamea.” Sweetheart. She relaxed a touch at the endearment.

  Everyone looked up at Laurence as he walked out of her bedroom, holding a book and trying hard to appear casual.

  She was too relieved to care.

  “Sorry to disturb. Does anyone mind if I make a coffee?” he asked.

  No-one answered.

  “Can I get a cup for anyone?” he asked.

  Junior met him in the kitchen. “Laurence, we’ve got a bit of a family situation here. Do you mind leaving us for a bit?”

  “You know I live here, too?” he said in a voice just for Junior, but Sunny heard and cringed.

  Atali appeared from her afternoon nap and rubbed her eyes. The sight of Junior and her Uncle Akamu woke her instantly. “Noona,” she squealed and leaped into Junior’s arms. He threw her up into the sky and caught her.

  Tulula clicked her tongue in disapproval.

  Laurence’s mouth dropped open. “Careful,” he said, then got three angry glares.

  “Laurence, would you mind taking Atali for a walk? Just for fifteen minutes,” Sunny asked.

  He looked hurt. Not only was Sunny excluding him from the family, but Atali clearly had a preference for ‘Noona’. But she couldn’t worry about Laurence’s feelings in this moment.

  “Atali, you want to come with me to the park?” Laurence asked her.

  “Noona come?”

  “How about just—”

  Atali stamped her foot. “No. Only Noona come.”

  Sunny didn’t have the energy to intervene.

  “It’s okay, uo,” said Junior. “I’ll come. Grab your shoes. Let’s go.”

  Laurence looked over at Sunny and she gave him a quick nod. She wanted him gone. The suspense was killing her.

  “Mummy, can I take Lulu?” Atali came up to Sunny and put her hand on her face. “Sad, Mummy,” she said, which broke her heart just a little bit more.

  She forced a smile. “You take Lulu and I’ll see you there soon. I love you,” she said, and lifted the child to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Be a good girl for Laurence and Noona.”

  Once the door closed, Sunny turned back to her aunt and uncle, her heart racing. “What did Ronson say?”

  “Mataio’s being re-sentenced.”

  That didn’t sound good, but he was already in for life. How bad could it be? “Why?”

  “He didn’t kill La’ei.”

  Something stuck in her throat. She had to clear it to speak, but it wouldn’t budge. “What?” The word squeaked out like air. She tried to clear and repeat. “What?” It sounded the same.

  Tulula understood. “Michael Fui has been charged with her murder.”

  Sunny’s voice refused to work at all. She gestured her confusion.

  “He was La’ei’s boyfriend,” explained Uncle Akamu. “He got her pregnant.”

  Sunny stood and got a glass of water.

  This changed everything. Everything.

  Mataio would be released from prison. She’d be able to see him. They could be a family.

  “Why would Mataio say he killed her if he didn’t?” Her voice crackled but her meaning was clear. “I don’t get it.” Her joy turned to anger. Why would he protect this Michael Fui guy?

  Uncle Akamu patted her arm. “Mataio thought he’d killed her. He hit her with a rock and ran. Maybe for help, maybe not. But when he came back, she was dead.”

  Tulula’s tears streamed down her face. Silent and grave. “My baby was having a baby and Fui killed her for it.”

  Sunny understood Tulula’s pain, maybe more so now she had a daughter of her own, but all she could think about was when she’d see Mataio again. “Is he out?”

  “With time served for the illegal drug testing, and withholding evidence, Ronson thinks he’ll be out in a month.”

  “Can he practice medicine again?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Sunny turned to her aunt. “Does it bring you any kind of closure?”

  “There will never be closure,” replied Uncle in a voice he rarely used. This prompted another wave of tears from Aunt and he lowered his voice to continue. “La’ei was robbed of her life, and then robbe
d of her death ceremony. Even if Mataio didn’t kill her, he took away her rights to a dignified crossover.”

  The Samoan traditions around death and burial were more complicated than Sunny had ever realised. Still, she felt the need to defend him. “He was only fifteen years old.”

  Aunt spoke for the first time. “He’ll never be welcome in our house.”

  “But Aunt, he didn’t kill her.” The impact of those words washed over her. Mataio hadn’t killed anyone.

  “He’ll never be welcome here,” reaffirmed Uncle, as if he sensed she needed convincing. “He should stay in Australia.”

  “I have to see him.” Sunny didn’t mean to say it out loud.

  Tulula’s face darkened and her eyes bore down on her. “Don’t you dare tell him about Atali. He can’t be trusted with a child. You understand me?”

  “Aunt, I can’t—”

  “Sunny,” said Uncle Akamu. “You didn’t know his father. Mataio can’t outrun his genes. He can’t control himself. Sure, he can manage for a while, make you think he’s okay, but he’ll never change. You can never trust a man like that. Atali must be protected. It’s your job.”

  “Marry that Laurence boy if you must—”

  “Aunt—”

  “Let him be the daddy,” Tulula begged. “But don’t tell Mataio. Promise me.”

  “I can’t promise you. I’m sorry.”

  “You must.”

  “Atali has a right to know. Maybe not now, but someday.”

  Tulula clicked her tongue louder than Sunny had ever heard before. She pointed a thick finger and said, “No, Sunny.”

  Uncle Akamu stood up, the pain in his back making him move like a pregnant woman. “Taimi e all ai,” he said. Time to go. He stood by the door. Although Tulula had lived independently in Australia for over a decade, she still obeyed her husband when he spoke that way. They moved to leave, Tulula still insisting. “If you go against us, we will never forgive you. She is our child, not his. Remember.”

  Sunny stared at the closed door for some time. She knew they’d be at the playground now with Atali and would sit with her on the swings for a while before she came home. They loved that child as if she were their own.