Aidan wraps his arm around my shoulders and opens the door.
May gives us a beaming grin, and leads the four of us through the bustling restaurant to a table in the back corner. Ryan unbuttons his wool coat, draping it over the back of his chair, revealing a smart suit jacket which matches his pants, a sharp-pressed white and grey striped shirt and a pink tie. It takes a confident man to wear pink.
We start with a round of drinks, and Aidan and Ryan take over the ordering. When it appears they’ve finished, Ryan selects another dish, and then Aidan one more. They’ve ordered far too much, but they both assure us they’re starving. It seems more like a pissing contest to me. Two strong proud alphas facing off … but surely they know they need to work together.
Once we’ve finished our entrees and had a glass of wine, we sit and stare at each other, I guess waiting for someone to speak first. Aidan eyes Ryan like he’s the enemy, instead of the person that might be able to get us out of this shit. Usually Aidan gives anyone a chance, and takes the opportunity to get to know them before he passes judgment. It appears in this case that he’s already made one.
May clears our plates from the table, and breezes back towards the kitchen. “Let’s get down to business,” Ryan says and rubs his thumb and forefinger over his stubbled jaw. Aidan places one arm protectively around my shoulders, and rests the other on the table.
“Let’s,” Aidan says, like he’s ready for battle.
“I’ve been in touch with some key contacts, and have come across some pertinent information regarding our person of interest … or what we call POI.
“We reviewed some historical licensing records, and from a photo we were able to run a search against other known criminals. We came up with a match. In the system, though, we didn’t have the name you gave us, Eevie, but had him as having a number of other aliases. It’s the same guy that’s been on the Australia’s Most Wanted list.”
Australia’s Most fucking Wanted list? Of course he is. I shake my head in disbelief. “Oh my God,” I say, barely above a whisper.
Ryan takes a folded piece of paper from inside the breast pocket of his jacket. He unfolds it. It’s a photo of a man with dark-brown hair with grey streaks through it. Bright-blue eyes, and a cleft chin, he looks like a regular guy … not a wanted fugitive. I can’t help but reread the bottom line.
Anyone who sees this man is urged not to approach him and to call 000, while anyone with information on his whereabouts can contact Crime Stoppers on 1800 333 000.
Aidan glances briefly at the photo like Ryan has put a ticking bomb on the table between them.
“What’s he wanted for?” Aidan asks, talking through his teeth as if someone might be lip-reading from nearby.
I take Aidan’s hand and hold it under the table.
“He managed to escape from a raid where we seized commercial quantities of controlled drugs, namely cocaine, stolen goods and illegal firearms. The raid was a result of intelligence, which suggested he was involved in a sophisticated drug syndicate involved in ferrying cocaine through interstate transportation links. There’s also the matter of the disappearance of one of our informants, who gave us enough intel to conduct the raid.”
“Fuck,” Aidan says, and clenches his jaw.
“Our POI probably didn’t intend to get involved in this drug syndicate. Our intelligence suggests that he was a member of a notorious motorcycle gang and had some pretty hefty gambling debts with the wrong kind of people. This syndicate has been known to target people in a similar situation to him, as they are at the point of desperation and will do anything to get sharks off their back.”
“Do you guys have any idea where he is?” I ask, praying that he’s not here in Canberra. If he is I don’t wanna know. A man this dangerous I don’t want lurking outside my bedroom window. A violent shudder makes me squirm in my chair. Just the thought that he could be close is terrifying.
“His current whereabouts is unknown. We suspect he’s underground, because the trail has been cold for some time. He may or may not still be in the country, but that’s anyone’s guess. Last reports suggest he’s in New South Wales. The police aren’t the only ones looking for him, though. Debts like he has … if they aren’t paid, they’ll be out for blood. I hate to say it, but these kinda people will go to great lengths to get their money. If he found you, there’s a chance …” Ryan’s voice trails off, and he takes another sip of beer.
Is he trying to say they could use us as leverage for payment? We could get killed by association? Could this mess get any worse?
Aidan and I look at each other, his eyes filled with a cloud of emotion. He squeezes my hand under the table, and I hold on, like he’s my lifeline.
“I’ve spoken to some key men who are on a taskforce targeting wanted persons, and when I mentioned our POI they wanted to know more. I said I was just making enquiries, but if it led to anything I’d keep them in the loop. But they’re not going to forget me anytime soon. He’s extremely dangerous. I would highly advise letting us know of any contact you have with him … and as for meeting him, if I were you guys, I wouldn’t even consider it without backup. You wouldn’t know what you were walking into, and you don’t necessarily know what he wants. It’s preferable we get to him first as opposed to feeding him to the lions, as he could offer some insight into the network and help us take down the bigger players in the syndicate, once and for all.”
Aidan is quiet, but I guarantee he has taken in every word. I can’t imagine how it must feel for him to hear such bad things about his father. He knew his dad was a gambler, but finding out that his father is a fugitive and a part of the chain in an elaborate drug network? Fuck. I don’t know how he’s managed to sit still and hear all this. The fact it’s his blood … I hope to God he’s not thinking this changes who he is. He’s still an honourable man: a good son, a respected and loyal friend to others, my best friend and my lover for life. Nothing will ever change that. I just hope Aidan holds on.
Our mains arrive, and not a moment too soon. We all seem to need a break from the conversation.
Aidan barely puts a thing on his plate. After one or two mouthfuls, he prods at the food with his fork. Can’t say I blame him. I don’t feel like eating either.
After a while, Ryan pipes up. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’d like to help. I’ve got a few ideas on how we could handle it … and protect you in the process.” His eyes bore into mine, a chill running through me. I get the feeling he’s not speaking about “you” in the collective, but me. Aidan slips his arm around my shoulders and leans in and kisses me below my ear, then glares back at Ryan. Seems strange to kiss me like that when we’re talking about something so serious.
“We’ll let you know,” Aidan says coolly. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, and tosses it on his plate.
Cassie doesn’t have much to say. In fact, she’s been quiet all night. Perhaps it’s best if she stays that way. She might say something about Aidan and his “baggage”. Every now and again she gives me a reassuring smile. Have I done the right thing in telling her and Ryan?
Aidan is quiet when we get home, and I can’t ignore the waves of worry coming off him. I would have thought he’d have something to say, but I guess this is a lot to process.
“I’m gonna have a shower and go to bed,” he says, each word harsh and cold.
I know this is a lot to take in, and I don’t blame him for reacting this way, I just wish he’d talk to me. I need to know what’s going on in that head of his. I need to know he’s alright.
“Okay,” I reply, getting the message that he wants to be alone. I pull him close, and rest my ear over his heart. He squeezes me and kisses me on the top of my head. I hope he’s not angry with me. I lied. He has every right to be pissed, but if he is, I’d rather him come right out and say it, because his silence is a hundred times worse.
I snuggle deep into bed while the shower streams, giving Aidan the time he needs. He may be in there a while.
; CHAPTER ELEVEN
* AIDAN *
The shower’s scalding-hot water does nothing to supress the burning rage that’s climbing up my throat. I can do nothing more than stand, soaking in the heat.
I’m about to lose my shit. Big time.
After all this time, my arsehole excuse for a father, a wanted-fucking-fugitive no less, is threatening to destroy my life. As much as I wanna find this prick and pulverise him, right now it’s taking every ounce of my energy not to have a go at Eevie for not telling me about this mess in the first place.
She lied, and it fucking hurts.
And in comes Ryan to save the day. Not me. Fucking Ryan waltzes in with an expensive suit, a cocky spring in his step, knowing all about this shit before I did. He’s got a handle on something I knew nothing about. And he thinks he can protect “us”, but I reckon he was just referring to Eevie. Has he got something against me?
The way he was looking at Eevie, it was as if she were sitting there naked. I bet he’s seen the tape, and that fucking cuts me right up. Sitting directly across from Eevie, he was probably wondering what it would be like having her bounce up and down on his cock. Fuck. That moment Eevie and I shared … I can’t stand knowing it’s not ours anymore. That moment of wild abandonment is now tainted.
And Cassie. She could barely hold my eye tonight. I thought we got along well. What the fuck did I do to her?
Had I known about this shit earlier, I could have arranged to meet him … if, in fact, meeting me is all he wants. As much as it pains me to acknowledge, he is my father.
I can’t have the love of my life, our sex-life go viral. I won’t share that moment with anyone. I don’t care about what it could do to me, but it would destroy Eevie … and when she hurts, so do I. I can’t let this happen. When Eevie was drugged and nearly raped, I wasn’t there to stop her from being in that situation. And now this? I haven’t been there for her, or protected her like I’d promised.
Isn’t that the whole deal? Men protect their women? The roles have been reversed, and Eevie’s tried to save me from him. She stopped at nothing to keep him away from me. But she had to lie to do it.
****
* EEVIE *
I get in the door from work at about six o’clock. Aidan’s car is out front, but there’s no sign of him. I find a note on the bench.
Having a couple of beers, home by 7
xxx
I unpack my shopping bags and prepare all the ingredients to make a spicy sausage-pasta dish that I know he’ll love. Maybe I can get through to Aidan via his stomach. No, wait … the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach … how do I work it to get inside his head?
I blink for a moment, trying to find the answer, but I’ve got no clue. I’ll just have to make a kick-arse pasta dish. I’m pulling out all the stops.
By nine o’clock, Aidan still isn’t home. I send him a text. After ten minutes with no response, I give up waiting and reheat my dinner. I guarantee it would’ve tasted a lot better two hours ago.
I eat it, alone.
I cover Aidan’s dinner and put his plate in the fridge. My phone rings. Finally he calls. I reach for the phone, but it’s a number I don’t recognise. My heart pumps hard against my ribcage. Oh, God. I have to answer this. It could be them.
“Hello,” I manage to choke out.
“Hey, Eevie. It’s Ryan here.”
“Oh … hey, Ryan,” I say on an exhale. Thank God it’s him.
“Listen, gorgeous, I just rang to see how you are? Have you two talked some more about all this, and worked out what you’re gonna do?”
“It’s not the easiest thing to talk about, Ryan. I’m going to try to talk to him when he gets home.”
“You mean you’re home alone?”
“Yes.” And all the doors and windows are locked. I’ve already checked them.
“Where is he?”
“Out.”
“Do you want me to come over? Keep you company until he gets home?”
“No. I’m fine.” This shit is hard enough as it is, and if Aidan came home to find another man watching over me in our house he would not be happy. I don’t have to be an expert in body language to interpret how Aidan was around Ryan the other night. I couldn’t tell, though I didn’t know if it were Ryan himself, or this whole situation that had Aidan almost beating his chest and ready to drag me home by my hair like a caveman. Ryan barely knows me and all of a sudden he wants to protect me? Is it because I’m Cassie’s friend, or because he’s a cop?
“Well, I’ve got nightshift in a couple of hours, so it’s no trouble if you want me to swing past.”
“Aidan should be home any minute now, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Alright, well, you’ve got my number now, so just call.”
“Sure. Thanks, Ryan.”
Nine-twenty. Still no message from Aidan. I wish he would talk to me. Tell me where the hell he is. When he gets home, I’m gonna make him talk. Even if I have to drag it out of him.
****
The more time passes, the more pissed at Aidan I become. At around ten o’clock, his phone rings out. No answer. I send him a text. No response. Just pick up the bloody phone, Aidan! Is it really that hard?
By eleven o’clock, there’s still no word. I crawl into bed, feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life. Doesn’t he think I’m scared? Does he even think I might be worried that something’s happened to him? Dark thoughts drift around my head as I try to sleep.
I am awoken from the sleep that took so long to come to the front door slamming shut, and a bundle of keys crashing on the floor. What sounds like an elephant bumps against the walls on the way to the bedroom. I flick on the bedside lamp to watch Aidan stumble into the room. Eyes barely open, his long legs buckle as he collapses on the floor on his side of the bed. I have never seen him drunk. And man, is he drunk.
“What have you been drinking?”
“Bundaberg’s finest,” he slurs.
“Rum? I thought you were just having a few beers.”
“Oh, Eevie, Eevie, Eevie. I’ve had a few alright.” He crawls up to sit on the bed, his upper body jerking around like a jack-in-the-box. He can hardly manage to take his shoes off, so I get out of bed and take them off for him. He flops back onto the bed. Eyes closed, his lashes cast a shadow on his face. He’s a dead weight to move. I have to use all my strength to take off his jeans. I’m not even going to bother with his shirt. I don’t think I’m strong enough. He babbles incoherently, struggling to hold one very bloodshot eye open.
“I’m no good for you, baby,” he murmurs, as I pull the doona over him.
What?
“What are you talking about?” I struggle to contain the anger in my voice. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. Of course he’s good for me. I slip under the covers beside him.
“What good am I? I can’t fuckin’ protect you. I failed you. First Dean, and now this … Fuck,” he growls.
“Stop it, Aidan. This isn’t your fault,” I warn. I haven’t wanted to push him and ask how he was dealing with this shit, but I guess his true feelings are coming out.
“You should leave. You’re better off without me.”
How could he say such a thing? “Is that what you really want? For me to leave?” I run my fingers through his dark, messy hair. Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him softly on the lips. The smell of rum on his breath is so lethal that I turn my head and gag.
He flops his hand to his face, knocking my hand from his cheek. His eyelids flutter open and then he squeezes them shut like he’s in pain. “Yes it is! You should go. It’d break my fuckin’ heart but then at least he can’t use you against me. It’s the only way I can protect you.”
I kiss him on his sweaty forehead and will myself not to cry. Unfortunately, my unshed tears have other ideas. He’s drunk, Eevie. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Does he really want me to go? He snuggles his head into my chest. He doesn’t even pull me up on the fact that I�
�m wearing a shirt. To bed.
“You’re stuck between me and my useless fuck of a father. Who knows what he’s capable of? I can’t see you get hurt again. It nearly killed me …” he says into my shirt, his words running into each other.
I knew what Dean did to me still haunted Aidan, but I can’t believe he blames himself.
“You’re talking rot, Aidan. Sleep it off.”
He rolls away from me, his warmth disappearing. “Just go!” he yells loudly, the words echoing throughout the room. Within seconds, his breathing tapers off and he starts to snore. Not a breathing-heavier-than-normal kind of snore, but a chainsaw-revving kind of snore.
I slip out of bed and pull on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. I throw some clothes and my toiletries in a bag and scribble a note, leaving it on the bed. I close the bedroom door behind me, trying to keep myself calm until I’m at least in my car, before I fall apart.
Maybe he’s right. Ryan said this guy was dangerous, as well as the people that are after him.
Dean was a fucking teddy-bear compared to what we’re dealing with now. Would Aidan’s father be the curse we’d have to deal with our entire lives?
Does Aidan resent me for putting him in this position? If I had of just had the cash, this would have all gone away. Maybe I should have asked my mum for money, but I made such a big deal about moving out and being independent, I didn’t want her to think I couldn’t cope with the responsibility. I could have financed my car … taken out a personal loan. I would have the tape and it would be over. Why didn’t I think of that shit when I was on the phone with them? If I had’ve got the money, Aidan would have been none the wiser, and life would continue as it was. I’d be poorer than I’d ever been, but richer for having Aidan’s love without him being dragged into this mess.
My options are limited this time of night as to where to go without being bombarded with questions. Some questions I can’t answer. Some questions I won’t. There is only one place I can go. There’s only one person who understands this mess.
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