The Vine Cross (The Vine Series Book 1)

by S P Dawes

  Believing they had left, she crept downstairs and peeked out of the blinds, carefully. It had been a police officer; he was at her neighbour’s house now. The neighbour pointed across to the residence and Hayley quickly ducked underneath the windowsill, hoping no one had spotted her.

  Creeping back up slowly, she turned to the window and as she did; the officer saw her. He was now in the front garden, looking directly at her. She cursed under her breath. What was she going to do? She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t there any longer. The knock came as instantaneously as her heart had stopped. Running up the stairs, she slammed the door before curling up on the bed. If Demy caught her talking to the police, he’d kill Lynnie.

  “Miss, we’re just canvassing the area, a young lady has gone missing and we’re asking all people in the neighbourhood to keep an eye out!” Pushing a leaflet through the letter box, he withdrew it, something didn’t feel right. He freed the letterbox again and asked the lady to open the door, but then he heard a loud bang from behind him and turned.

  Demy opened the front door, glancing around. She wasn’t downstairs, and the officer had already told him she was there. Walking to the bottom of the stairs he shouted, “Hannah, this police officer would like to speak with you!”

  Hayley crept to the door, opening it slowly. Stepping out onto the landing, she spied the officer and Demy with a threat in his eyes. Hayley gently made her way downstairs until she was face to face with the police officer that she had run away from.

  “Mrs Gent!” He stood up straight and held his hand out to her.

  She glanced at Demy for permission, who urged her to take it. So she did. Demy held out a chair and pushed Hayley on to it.

  The officer watching sat down. “I’m sorry that I scared you earlier, your husband explained you’re bruising, it must be very upsetting?”

  She hadn’t a clue what he had said, so she just nodded pathetically.

  “Could you talk me through what happened?”

  She peered up at Demy. Unsure what she should say. How was she supposed to validate a story she hadn’t heard orchestrated?

  “It’s OK, sweetheart, he knows about the assault.”

  Hayley smiled timidly to the police officer.

  “I told him we would have reported it, but we didn’t think there was much of a point as you didn’t see his face.”

  She nodded, looking to the officer with eyes that screamed help me.

  “Mr Gent, could I have a minute with your wife?” He was picking up on the tension and Hayley’s heart beat erratically in her chest.

  Hayley tried to breathe calmly.

  “Of course,” Demy smiled, planting a kiss on Hayley’s unharmed cheek. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  She heard him walk over to the sofa and sit down, barely twelve feet away. With her back to him, he may as well have sat on her shoulder, and the officer noted the distance.

  Looking gently towards Hayley, he tried to keep his voice low. “Are you safe, Mrs Gent?” Hayley nodded.

  He tightened his jaw, looking over at the man on the settee. “Can you explain to me what happened regarding your face?”

  “They attacked me,” she said simply, it wasn’t a lie, but she couldn’t look the officer in the face.

  “You know you should speak with the police, don’t you?” He was urging her to tell the truth.

  Just then she heard Demy’s mobile ring and knew he’d be momentarily distracted by answering it.

  “I can’t.”

  The police officer tried to remain neutral. Her husband was looking directly at them as he spoke on the phone.

  “Honesty, loyalty, trust and respect.”

  The officer looked at her. He didn’t know what she meant, but he couldn’t ask her as her husband was walking closer to them having hung up the phone.

  “That’s right, sweetheart. If only the world had more of that.” Demy placed his hands on her shoulders, smiling at the officer who observed them both before standing up. “That was your parents, checking in on you.”

  “OK, well thank you for letting me in. I can see everything is OK here, so I’ll leave you to get on with your day.”

  Demy led him out and Hayley felt sick. She hoped he would understand what she had said. Pass it on. Jesse would know, but would the officer even check? She couldn’t think of anything else to say that wasn’t obvious to Demy. But then, even if he passed the information on, it wouldn’t change her predicament. She just needed to let him know she was alive.

  “Oh, before I forget…” He took out a stack of leaflets from his pocket and handed one to Hayley, then continued to the door as Demy followed.

  Hayley looked down to see a picture of her taken at the beach and although someone had cropped the photograph to remove Jesse’s head; she knew those arms around her midriff were his. The telephone number to report any information was below it. She took one last look at the officer as he left and her heart snapped.

  Staring at the photograph, her heart bled. She could barely breathe as her legs lost all substance. Grabbing a hold of the table, she tried to support her weight as Demy closed the door and shut out any hope, she had left of being reunited with the only man she had ever loved.

  “What was all that about?” Demanded Demy.

  “I’m sorry. He saw me, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I ran upstairs.”

  “I meant the trust, loyalty crap,” replied Demy, increasing in anger as he neared her.

  “I was just saying that that’s what we should expect from society,” she lied. He studied her, but with her face as badly damaged as it was, it was harder for him to tell if she was lying.

  “You look a mess,” stated Demy, matter-of-factly.

  “Maybe you should stop hitting me in the face then.” The words spilled out before she could stop them, instantly regretting them as soon as they escaped. Her body froze in preparation of the inevitable, but he just laughed. A full-blown belly laugh, as though he found her hilarious and she let her muscles relax a little.

  “Maybe you should start behaving like a wife!” Demy shouted in her face once he’d recovered.

  “I hate you!” She screamed. Rising from her chair, she sent it tumbling to the floor. “I hate you with every fibre of my bones. You make my skin crawl and the thought of being with you fills me with revulsion. And you know what, you can beat me, beat me until my last breath. But you’ll always have to live with the fact that I will never ever want you.” Hayley spoke through her teeth and made sure every syllable met his ears. She knew she would regret it, but he’d never be able to forget it, and she damn well needed to fight. “You make me sick every time you touch me.”

  “Because I’m not Jesse fucking Hallam!?” The words sliced through her, and her sudden wave of defiance fizzled out. “I know all about wonder-boy! Well, let me tell you,” he seethed, pushing his nose into hers. “He’s going to prison for murder, and that’s where he’ll spend the rest of his days. So, you best get to fucking liking it and pretty fucking quick.”

  Hayley’s legs lost all ability to hold her up, so she held onto the table for support.

  “He’ll be in prison with every criminal he’s ever put away. How long do you think he’ll last?”

  “Why?” She asked quietly, her voice wobbling.

  “He deserves to have his life crushed, and you deserve everything coming to you. It was just lucky that you two got together. Now you can live knowing that you’ll both be in agony.”

  Hayley realised at that moment she’d been hoping Jesse would somehow save her, but this wasn’t a fairy tale and she was no princess. Sometimes there was no happily ever after, sometimes there was nothing but pain. She had tasted freedom once, experienced love in all its purity, but that was now the past. Holding onto hope would kill her; crush her spirit and dissolve her soul. Freedom was a mirage.

  “So, you best get used to being around, because he won’t be saving you.” He took her by the throat and she gasped for air. “Now tell me I’l
l not get what I want?”

  Trying to breathe, the tears crept from her tear ducts. She couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.

  “Tell me!”

  She could feel the wave engulfing her.

  Just then he loosened his grip. “Tell me!”

  Blinking away the fear jingling every nerve in her body, she stiffened her gaze. “Fuck you!” Hayley’s voice broke, as did her nose when it connected with Demy’s fist.

  “You need to remember who has the power here.”

  Grabbing at his hand around her neck, trying to prise his fingers away, she gasped. Catching him loosening his belt, her tears stained his hand whilst he smiled at his victory. The two minutes it took to destroy every last shred of her humanity, left her even more sore and bruised. Meaning she barely felt the force of the floor as she crumpled into it. She watched him leave through watery eyes. Hearing him lock the door from the other side, she wondered what the hell made him hate her so much?

  Chapter 25

  Six months had passed since that fateful interview with Hayley.

  Barely sleeping or eating, Jesse’s concentration levels were practically none existent.

  While his work colleagues tried to pick up the workload covering for him, he understood it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the idea that he cared.

  Feeling as though he was on a downward spiral, he had moved out as soon as the money had come through from selling his shared home with his ex. The constant stream of well wishes and optimistic insight of people who knew no better, had driven him crazy.

  Sitting in his chair at Mansfield police station, where they’d assigned him minimal cases since Hayley had disappeared, he tapped his pen on the edge of the desk. Watching the traffic move on the street outside, tapping the beat to a song he’d heard in the car on the way in that morning.

  Phone vibrating in his pocket, he saw Martin’s name. Pressing accept and placing it to his ear before he answered.

  DS Wells and DI Tinker had been in charge of the abduction case since Jesse had taken it to his senior. It was common knowledge that Jesse had been in a relationship with Hayley before she disappeared, and after the initial shock and gossip mongering, they had subjected him to living in a goldfish bowl. The odd times he could throw himself into work, they would soon bring him back down to earth with comments or puppy dog eyes. Realising people no longer knew what to say to him, and although understanding his erratic behaviour, he was becoming a distraction.

  His senior had ordered him into counselling, and after declining so many times he didn’t need that kind of help, his boss finally told him it was a stipulation for keeping his role, so he went begrudgingly. He knew full well it wouldn’t help. The only thing that could would be to find her alive and well. But if he wanted to save his job, he had to bite the bullet. Because as much as his job took him away from finding her, it was the only constructive thing getting him out of bed each morning, and he still needed to eat.

  “Martin.”

  “Jesse, how’s it going?”

  Jesse made a grunting noise.

  “I’ve not heard from you in a while, thought I’d try to catch up.” Jesse flung the pen across the desk, hitting the wall, watching it drop to the floor. “Jesse, you still there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. How’s things?” He asked without conviction.

  “The gang is getting together for drinks for Christmas. Thought it would be nice for you to show your face.”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Jesse heard Martin sigh on the end of the line.

  He knew he was only doing what he would if the roles were reversed, but he couldn’t face people from Newark station. Nothing had moved on, no one had any information on Hayley’s whereabouts, no one knew whether she was even alive or dead. People still looked at him with suspicion in their eyes, kidnapping was a difficult allegation to shake. If it hadn’t been for Martin finding CCTV of him and proving his innocence, he wouldn’t have a job and he’d be eating through a straw in prison somewhere, if he was lucky.

  “Look, I don’t fancy the whole pub scene, but I don’t mind meeting up with you and Claire. Pizza and beer, my treat?”

  “Sure, if that’s all you’ve got to give, I’ll take it; you need to get out though,” Martin reminded him.

  “Make me a deal.”

  “What?” Asked Martin.

  “I’ll bring pizza and beer and you don’t offer me any advice?” Hearing a snigger on the other side, he momentarily smiled.

  “Sure, Friday, OK?” Hanging up, Jesse grabbed his jacket off the chair and made his way out of the office.

  Walking round to his parents’ back door, letting himself in, he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge before wandering into the living room. His dad sat in his old chair filling in a crossword, looking up he took the beer offered. Resting it on the table next to him, as he watched his eldest son slump onto the settee in front of him.

  “I’m gathering, there’s still no news?”

  Jesse shook his head, taking another mouthful of beer, staring into the space.

  His dad noticed how dark his son’s eyes were. He was paler than normal, and he could swear he’d lost a few more pounds. “Your mums made some meals, they’re in the fridge.”

  Jesse nodded to acknowledge his dad. Leaning back in the chair, he put his feet on the coffee table, and twirled the bottle around in his hand.

  “Jesse...?”

  “Dad, don’t,” warned Jesse.

  Michael stopped; he didn’t want to push his son any more than he needed to. He knew he couldn’t truly understand what he was going through, because he’d never had to go through it, but he could see the pain etched on his face. “I’ll not tell you anything you don’t already know.”

  Jesse looked at his dad and attempted a smile.

  “I’ve no idea how you’re getting up every day and carrying on.”

  Jesse looked down at his bottle, he’d rather cope with his dad taking the piss than being emotional, and it only highlighted how diabolic his life was right now.

  “But I know how you look.”

  Taking a deep breath, he carried on listening. He didn’t have the energy to remove himself.

  “You will be no damn good to her if you’re in hospital.”

  “I’m no bloody good, anyway.” Jesse sulked, taking another drink.

  “They’re doing their job. No one said it would be easy.”

  Jesse flicked his fingernail on the label of the bottle. He needed a distraction.

  “I just want her back,” he said it so quietly Michael had to tune his ears in. The crack in his voice was clear, the sniffle only proved how desperate he was.

  “I know you do,” replied Michael sympathetically.

  “I’ve no idea if she’s even alive or if she is…”

  “I know it doesn’t bare thinking about,” conceded Michael, watching his son remove a tear from his cheek. “You know you don’t have to be strong in front of me?”

  Jesse nodded without looking up.

  “I still remember the first girl you went out with, she kissed you on the cheek and you told me and your mum you were going to marry her.”

  Jesse couldn’t help but laugh, but as he did, he couldn’t stop the flow of tears and then laughter turned into sobs.

  His dad getting up, tucked his son’s head under his chin, whilst rubbing his back and shoulder. “Let it out, just let it out.”

  A few minutes went by and when Jesse sat back up, his eyes were red raw. He felt less tense somehow, like he’d cried all his stresses out for a short while, but they exhausted him.

  “No one understands Dad.” Jesse looked up at him, he was listening. “Everyone thinks we’d only just got together, so I should just get on with my life, start over.”

  Michael said nothing. He didn’t want to break into his son’s stride of opening up, as he’d hardly spoken in six months.

  “I know we weren’t together long, but it was differ
ent Dad.” Jesse looked away; he found it harder to talk, facing him directly. “We had a connection, I know it sounds wacky, hippy shit, but we did. We just met in the middle, and it didn’t matter that she’d had a bad time, because I was going to make sure she had a wonderful future.” He took another deep breath. “It just makes me feel sick to the pit of my stomach that he has her, and I can’t get to her. I promised her I’d keep her safe,” he laughed. “Now she’s a MISPER. You couldn’t write it. A detective with a girlfriend who’s a missing person, how ironic!”

  Michael placed his hand on Jesse’s back as a way of comfort.

  “We didn’t even have the conversation about whether we were girlfriend and boyfriend. Sounds so bloody ridiculous, juvenile, doesn’t it? Like some playground kiss chase. But that’s how she described me to the guy at the petrol station. It tore my heart out, knowing she still saw me as that even when I hauled her in to the cop shop. She’d thought I betrayed her, and she still referred to me as her boyfriend.”

  “It doesn’t matter how much time you had together. Some people are together for twenty years and never feel a genuine connection to that person. They just think it’s normal, it’s comfortable, it can be enough for some people, each to their own. But you’re like me, we give our whole heart, and it’s only given when we know it’s reciprocated.”

  “Didn’t do an outstanding job with Rihanna,” commented Jesse with a tone of scepticism.

  “You never loved her, that’s why.”

  Jesse looked at his dad; he’d never said that before. “You fell in love with the idea of being in love.”

  “You never said?”

  “Would you have listened?” Asked Michael, Jesse thought about it, probably not. “You’ll not get over this.”

  Jesse listened to his dad while he held his head in his hands.

  “You just need to learn to live with it, better.”

  “Better?” Jesse almost laughed.