Bait

by Jade West

  I’m wearing something new.

  Figures, since I don’t really have anything old.

  The dress I’ve picked out is sexy in that demure kind of way. Ankle-length plum satin with a diamante trim, fitted like a dream, and delicate enough that I feel like I’m wearing a negligee.

  It’s a fucking travesty that Leo won’t see me in it.

  Not unless I wear it to bed every evening on the off chance he’s going to break in.

  I smile to myself. Maybe I should start jogging in it at midnight along the river path. Could be my cool new hobby.

  I check my phone is still on in my drawer, wondering if he really is keeping close tabs on me.

  Maybe I could use it to hunt him one of these days. Use it as a decoy to coax him into a dark alley somewhere. The idea gives me a strange chill.

  The bait using a decoy to snare the hunter. I do love a good twist.

  I could jump him. Use the element of surprise to get the bastard half naked for once.

  My smile widens.

  Yes. I’d like that.

  I’d like that a lot.

  I picture the bulk of him. The weight of him against my chest. The way he feels inside me with his forehead pressed to mine.

  And then I giggle because life is good.

  Life is really good.

  Even if I don’t stand a hope in hell of jumping the monster in a million years, it matters not.

  I’m perfectly fine with him jumping me.

  Phoenix

  My lawyer says a paternity battle will be both lengthy and expensive. She gives me her most professional stare over the top of her fine-rimmed glasses and assures me I should call Jake’s bluff and count on him running out of both energy and cash. But she doesn’t know Jake like I know him.

  She hasn’t seen the desperation in his eyes.

  I’d have trusted Jake with anything on this planet before Mariana came along. Back when it was just the three of us – Jake, Serena, and me – I’d have sworn on everything I had that we’d be tight for all time.

  We’re blood, after all.

  I’m amazed it’s come to seeking legal advice about a non-molestation order to keep him away from the house and Cameron. But it has.

  I feel grim as she lays out my options and what evidence I’d need to gather to support my case.

  It needs more than my testimony. It needs dates, times, witnesses. It needs police involvement.

  I feel weighed down by the process before it’s even started.

  “Off the record,” she says. “Wouldn’t it be better to throw the dog a bone for the time being? Is there any way you can negotiate some access rights? You said he’s demanding you sell the old business premises, is that not something you could entertain for the sake of compromise? It might at least buy you some favour and some time to gather the evidence you need, no?”

  I lean back in the chair opposite her, realising all over again how different she is from us – Jake and me. She’s got a wall full of qualifications and professionally highlighted hair. She flinches whenever I reach over for a handshake, even though she doesn’t know she’s doing it.

  In short, the woman has no idea what I’m dealing with here.

  “Jake isn’t the kind of dog you want to throw a bone to,” I tell her.

  She shrugs. “In that case, I’d say just keep on doing what you’re doing. Start keeping records of your interaction. Refuse to take the paternity test. It’s your name on Cameron’s birth certificate, and you were Mariana’s common law partner when she passed away. Legally, at this time, Cameron is undeniably your son. The onus will very much be on your brother to prove otherwise.”

  I thank her for her time, even though I’ll pay through the nose for every second of it.

  The sun is shining bright when I step outside and head back to my truck. I check the time. Early enough that I should head back for the last of the daily shipments. Late enough that I don’t want to.

  I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken an afternoon for myself during work time. The combination of the warmth of the sun on my back and the need to take my sunglasses from the glovebox makes my decision for me.

  Instead of taking a left back onto the industrial estate, I take a right.

  I cruise back up the hillside with my window down low and music up high, feeling ten years younger and a whole lot wiser than I did this time yesterday.

  Happier, too.

  And it’s not just from the sun.

  Serena nearly falls over herself as I pull onto the driveway. I see her through the window, pointing me out to Cam. And how my boy smiles. He smiles and waves, and I forget in that one moment that he’s anything other than a normal kid enjoying the summer.

  Maybe treating him like he’s anything else has been the problem all along.

  It’s the perfect day to finish up my refurbishments on the swimming pool. It’s also one of the only bastard times we’ll get to use it, given the fact it’s raining at least eighty percent of the time up here.

  The pool was Mariana’s whim, definitely not mine, and far enough back that I indulged her.

  I only scoop Cameron up for a minute on the way through before I’m straight out there working out what still needs doing.

  And then I remember why I agreed to this stupid installation in the first place.

  Our house is positioned right on the slope of the Malverns. The ground drops sharply away and rolls down to the town below. The pool is down three flights of steps from the back porch. It had to be that way to clear enough ground space to house the thing.

  It’s heated, but barely. It’s shallow enough at the deep end that my toes still touch the floor and barely long enough to get a decent swim out of.

  It’s saving grace is that it’s an infinity design. Another one of Mariana’s whims.

  In that pool you feel like you’re on the edge of the world. No barriers. No manmade protrusions. Just a ledge and the whole fucking vista down below.

  Mariana used to say she was sitting amongst the stars. My breath catches in my throat as I picture her there, propped on the ledge to nowhere with wet hair and a champagne flute in her hand.

  It’s like we’re flying, Leo. Can you feel it?

  I pull the tarp back and wind it in. The water sparkles like gold in the sun.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it in its glory. Aside from the maintenance I’ve been working on over long nights recently, the cover hasn’t been off once since she died.

  Not for me, and not for Cam, either.

  I look back up at the house and find him there, staring at me over the railings. I wave and he waves back.

  He points at the water and I give him a thumbs-up.

  I’d forgotten how much he loved this pool. I’d forgotten all the afternoons we spent splashing about in here when the weather held. Even when it didn’t.

  It’s been easier to forget than to feel.

  I check the filter is working just fine, and run a final water check. My maintenance has paid off. The pool is perfectly usable.

  Cam is jumping around the living room as I dig the old inflatables out of the pool cupboard. He’s reaching up for his inflatable turtle and his armbands before I can even finish blowing them up.

  “Alright, champ.” I laugh. “Give your dad a minute, will you?” I tip my head towards the kitchen. “Go ask Serena to grab your shorts.”

  I hear Serena trying to decipher his message as I head upstairs to sort my own pool wear.

  I dig out a pair of shorts and a towel from the airer. Change quickly before the weather decides to change on me.

  Cam is frustrated when I get back down, Serena shaking her head as he tries to communicate.

  “He needs shorts,” I tell her. “For swimming.” And then the tiniest intuition hits home. Hard. I keep my voice easy. Calm. Steady enough that even I barely notice the tension. “You could have just asked her, champ. We’d have been down there already by now.”

  Serena hands
him a pair from the laundry basket. I resist the urge to jump in and help him change.

  I hold back from congratulating him for doing it himself, playing the whole thing down as we head outside.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the sun on my bare back. A long time since my scars have seen the light of day. For the first time in a while they barely bother me. I’m all smiles as I get Cameron kitted up in his armbands and throw the turtle in the water.

  “Let’s go, bud,” I say and drop myself in the shallow end. I’m lazing on my back quite happily as Cameron tackles the steps on his own. He launches himself in the water with a grin and bobs about for just a second until he finds his feet.

  He can swim. He’s been in this pool since before he could walk, even if it’s been a while.

  That knowledge makes it easier for me to play it cool as he splashes over to the deep end. He chases the turtle but the turtle keeps on moving, always just that little way out of reach.

  I hold back. Hold firm. Reining myself in tight from grabbing it for him.

  He’s laughing his silent laugh as he paddles the length of the pool after it. I keep out of his way to give him a clear path, and something happens in that water. Something quite extraordinary.

  Maybe it’s the familiarity of happier times. Maybe it’s the challenge of the chase that distracts him enough to forget his usual inhibitions.

  Maybe it’s just all in good time, like they said it would be.

  But my nerves prickle as I hear him grunt and grab for that big green turtle. My feet are firmly on the floor as he reaches out for its inflated fin and holds on tight.

  And my heart is in my throat as he squeals in triumph when it’s his.

  Like father, like son.

  “Good work, bud!” I call, and he grins. I try my best to keep my voice light. “Now let him go and chase him again. See if you can catch him a second time.”

  He looks so proud of himself, my boy. He lets go happily and watches that turtle go bobbing back across the pool. I’m watching too, pretending I’m in the race to grab him myself, and Cam picks up a gear, his feet kicking out like a trooper as he thinks I’m going to steal the glory.

  I hang back, pretend I’m straining. “Go, champ! You got this!”

  Kicking and sploshing and concentration – that grin still firm on his face as he swims.

  And then he catches him.

  He catches him at the corner of the pool and slams his hands around that turtle’s goofy head. And he laughs.

  My boy laughs.

  My heart soars so high it’s fucking painful. I’ve got a lump in my throat I can’t swallow away, and a deadpan expression like it’s no big fucking deal that he just made a sound.

  “Great job!” I call. “Well done, Cam. You got him.”

  And he forgets himself.

  I guess in that one happy moment he forgets it all. He points at the turtle’s big green flippers and looks me right in the face, and then he speaks.

  Two simple words that change my whole fucking world. “He’s fast.”

  I splash myself with water so he can’t see the tears. I pretend I’m coughing water and laughing as I make my way over.

  “Yeah, bud. He sure is. But you’re faster. You swim like a fish.” I pause. “Remember this game, Cam?”

  I don’t know if he does, but I sure do. He’s not expecting it as I slam my hands flat on the surface. Not expecting to get splashed as the water spurts.

  I’m not sure it really is the memory that has him giggling his head off, but I don’t give a shit either way.

  He splashes me back, kicking and slapping water all over me, and I’m laughing too.

  And then I see Serena at the railings. I point and wave and Cam does too.

  “Shall we shout her, Cam? See if we can get her to hear us? Maybe she’ll come down too if we’re loud enough.”

  I don’t really expect him to join in as I shout her name.

  She clasps her hand over her mouth as he does.

  I spin him around so he can’t see her surprise.

  And I thank my lucky fucking stars that Mariana got her way with this stupid bloody swimming pool.

  Twenty-Nine

  Summer has filled her veins with light and her heart is washed with noon.

  C. Day Lewis

  Abigail

  My monster doesn’t come for me all week. I’m having fun all the same, planning the barbeque and dancing until my feet ache at Diva’s on Thursday night.

  I only check my phone once when I get home, but when I do, there’s a single message waiting for me.

  It makes my heart soar.

  Soon.

  That’s all it says.

  I get ready on Saturday morning with high spirits and a smile on my face. I style my hair in curls with Sarah’s help and slip on my beautiful new dress, only sighing once in the mirror at the pity he won’t get to see me like this.

  And then I go.

  Lauren and the girls are already on Castle Green when I get there. The wine is flowing freely, the smell of charcoal is in the air and the weather is holding.

  Everything is great.

  Jack takes great pleasure in introducing me to all the people I’ve yet to meet from the other office. I shake hands and smile and struggle to assign names to faces, scouting the crowds for any clients I should be recognising but haven’t yet met.

  “Stop bloody working,” Lauren giggles in my ear as I’ve introduced myself to the fifth person at the salad table in a row. “Kick back, get drunk, have fun.”

  “You’re such a slacker,” I tell her, and stick my tongue out.

  “No,” she says. “You’re such a bloody professional. You’re giving the rest of us a bad name.” She nudges me in good humour.

  She has got a point. For all the enjoyment I’ve come to find in the position I grabbed hold of during my crazy relocation effort, I’m beginning to think it’s time for more of a challenge.

  It amazes me that I feel ready. Hell, it amazes me that I’m back up from my knees with my head held high.

  Because of him.

  I crush that thought.

  Not just because of him.

  Because of Lauren, and Kelly, and Jack. Because of Sarah. Because of stupid nights at Divas and learning to enjoy phone calls home again.

  Because of me, too.

  I’m chowing down on a burger when my skin prickles, happily tipsy enough on two large glasses of white that I brush the sensation off as nothing.

  I convince myself I’m imagining things when I catch a glimpse of a familiar silhouette weaving through the crowd at the raffle table.

  No.

  It can’t be.

  But it is.

  Kelly’s voice shrieks in my ear before Lauren’s. “You didn’t say you were bringing him!”

  I turn to stare blankly, even though my heart is thumping.

  She points to a huddle of clients by the bandstand. “There. Look.”

  I don’t see a thing, until I do.

  And there he is. Large as life at my work barbeque. Looking thoroughly at odds with everyone else here, even though he’s wearing a tux.

  He’s wearing a fucking tux.

  Fuck.

  He looks fucking magnificent.

  Better than magnificent.

  He looks like a perfect nightmare. Darker than I’ve ever seen him, even in the glaring sun.

  “You could knock me over with a feather,” Kelly says. “That man is fucking delicious.”

  “He really is,” I tell her, and then I grin. “Hung like a donkey, too.”

  I leave them with open mouths as I abandon my burger on a trestle table and head straight for the beast himself.

  He meets me halfway, as though this is the most natural thing in the world.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper-hiss, before he can even speak.

  “I said soon,” he tells me. “This is soon.”

  “And this is my work barbeque.” I can’t hid
e the smile. “Technically for employees, suppliers and clients only.”

  My tummy flutters as he leans over and presses his lips to my ear. I love the sound of his breath.

  “And technically I’m a client. I ordered some filing cabinets, you can check the records.”

  My eyes widen and his are laughing.

  “You’re a client?! Of Office Express?!”

  “Like I said, you can check the records.”

  He lets out a low laugh as I grab my phone from my handbag. My fingers are shaking with a strange jittery excitement as I call up my work login.

  Filing cabinets… Malvern… past ninety days…

  I get a few hits. Names I recognise. A few clients I’ve seen today already.

  And then him.

  I know it.

  Scott Brothers Logistics. Enigma business park, Malvern. I call up the order details. Leo Scott. Managing Director.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  My mouth drops open.

  “That night…” I begin and he smirks.

  “I told you I found one of your shoes under a truck. I omitted the fact that it was my truck. I thought I’d keep that little detail to myself.”

  “I came looking…”

  “And you found me. You just didn’t know it. I was right there, I drove past you on your way back to the car park.”

  “And you followed me,” I finish.

  “Yes,” he says. “And how the pieces fit so snugly together when they all come into view.”

  “That was your building…” I whisper. “You grabbed me by your own building.”

  “And deleted the security footage after. I enjoyed watching that back, I can tell you.”

  The wine makes me heady. My legs feel like jelly. “Leo Scott.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” he says and holds out his hand. It feels so ridiculous to take it, but I do. I stare at his inked fingers in mine. The rose I recognised on the fuel station counter. “So now you know some of my secrets.” He smirks. “How does it feel to know the monster for real?”

  “It’s a good start.” I smile. “I’m kinda digging the unfolding mystery thing.”

  “See if you still feel like that when you get more of the picture. You look incredible by the way,” he says, and my cheeks burn. “It’ll be a shame to tear that dress off you later.”