by Bowes, K T
“Like this...as in, on children’s apparatus.” Dane didn’t smile.
“No! Like this, as in...my...boyfriend.” Even saying the word seemed to cut like a knife, irritation budding in Sophia’s tone.
“So I gathered,” Dane replied. “Can I ask why?”
She looked at him with astonishment. “Because of the baby you’re having with Louise! I’m not getting in the middle of that.”
Dane shook his head to clear it, moving his hand from his ribs to rub his eyes and back again. “I’m just not getting this,” he said, sounding desperate. Sophia resented having to explain it to him. She wanted to leave him sitting there pathetically on a child’s swing and go home, but fear of him falling off, dictated she stay. It was a bit pointless getting the cops off his back only to leave him to die in a kiddie’s playground.
“Louise is pregnant!” Sophia gritted her teeth, stilting her sentence. “I heard her say it was yours and you wouldn’t take responsibility. I don’t want to be involved. I feel...confused.”
“You feel confused! Welcome to the club!”
“Oh my gosh! So, you’re still denying it? Poor Louise.”
“Oliver!” Dane gasped as he tried to sit up. “Oliver got Louise pregnant, not me. Get your facts straight!”
Sophia shook her head. “I heard her say...”
What actually did she hear? Sophia tried to conjure up the awful scene in the toilet. It shouldn’t have been hard; she went over and over it many times since. But as she replayed the chance conversation, the words rearranged themselves unhelpfully in Sophia’s head and she realised with horror; Louise said nothing of the kind. She never said Dane’s name.
“Louise wouldn’t say it’s mine, because it’s not!” Dane said, emitting a tight, awful cough. “So at what point did you jump to your damning little conclusion?” His voice held the sneer Sophia heard him use on other people and it chipped away at the ice over her heart.
“She said the father wasn’t interested because he liked someone else. Then she wished Sandra had chopped that person’s leg off.” Sophia gulped.
“Right!” Dane hauled himself up using the swing chain and the seat jerked and hit him in the butt. His eyes flashed dangerously from inside a pain wracked face. “Well, thanks for that. Thanks for coming to me first with your imaginative speculation...oh, you didn’t.” He shook his head at her, even the slight action paling his colour further.
The jigsaw pieces fell into place quickly as Sophia recalled the ‘little chat’ Matt and his mates had with Oliver last year. Remorse rode her like a rodeo bronc, relentlessly digging in its heels and making her squirm.
“But Darren hinted at it too. He said it wasn’t just Sandra that had the hots for you. I assumed it was Louise.”
“It was Jane!” Dane spat. “And just so you know, Jane really is my cousin. Our junkie, alcoholic mothers are sisters, so it was hardly likely to happen, was it? Why unite two defective sides of the same family? Besides the very obvious fact that I always fancied you, so it was pointless. They all knew that!”
Sophia let out a heavy sigh and hung her head.
“So let me get this straight,” Dane said, fixing his flashing eyes on her face. His breath came in short pants and he gripped his side. “You were one of the few people who didn’t believe I killed my stepdad and told me you loved me while I was handcuffed to the bed. Yet you would so easily believe I could knock someone up and just leave them to deal with it alone?” He shook his head sadly. “You’re not the person I thought you were. Fine. We’re done, Soph. As soon as I can get across there, I’ll be out of your life for good!”
Dane’s hand waved towards the alleyway onto Sophia’s street as his chosen direction, before pitching forward. His butt rested back on the swing seat and he coughed again. Blood spattered onto the floor and Sophia leapt in terror. “What can I do? Dane, you’re bleeding!” She desperately wanted to touch him, her hand reaching out to stroke his hair but Dane’s recoil was enough to warn her off. “I’ll get help,” she squeaked. “But Uncle Bob took my phone to the cops. I’ll have to run home.” She hovered, unsure of herself.
Dane said nothing, coughing up more spray onto the ground. Sophia took off running, skirting the spiteful grass and pounding her sore feet over yet more stones and grit. At the front door, she hammered until Edgar answered it. “It’s open!” he greeted her crossly. “It’s like a bloody motorway in here anyway...Soph? What’s happened?”
Her ashen face crumpled in misery and Edgar sighed and held his daughter tightly, her feet bleeding into the bristly door mat.
Edgar drove the SUV round to the park and retrieved Dane with great difficulty. The teenager refused to go back to the hospital.
“Fine!” Edgar retorted in annoyance. “But don’t die in my son’s bloody bed or I’ll kill you!”
Dane rolled his eyes and leaned on the man’s arm, pushing Sophia’s helping hand away. She sat in the back of the car broken by Dane’s rejection, knowing she deserved it.
Edgar put him to bed in Matt’s old room and even though he was only the other side of the wall and she didn’t sleep a wink, Sophia neither heard nor saw Dane again that night.
Chapter Eleven
“I’ve taken the day off to look after Dane, but I’ll have your new car fetched home by one of the mechanics after it’s been serviced and warranted,” Edgar said, popping his head round Sophia’s door as she got ready for school.
She smiled and tried to look happy, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Thanks, Dad.”
Things should have been great at school, apart from Louise puking all over the eyeballs she was dissecting in biology and the teacher having to clear the classroom. The friendship with Maddie and Heather restarted as though there hadn’t been a painful hiatus and it was comforting for Sophia to achieve a tiny portion of normality in her tumultuous life.
Darren developed a full-on crush for Maddie, behaving like a paper wasp, always coming at her from whichever direction they went. “Hey, gorgeous,” he crooned, kissing her wetly outside the science block. He eyed Sophia sideways and she smiled graciously and released him from her emotionally. He winked and put his energies into making Maddie flush red. He was kind of sweet and made Sophia smile more than cringe.
Paul hung around as well, making a play for Heather, who made a great show of resisting. They chatted on the way to English. “Look, I’ll bow out gracefully when Dane comes back and you can all hang together,” Sophia offered.
“You broke up?” Heather looked appalled. “After proving he didn’t do it and working his job for him! What a creep!”
“No,” Sophia defended Dane. “It’s fine. It’s mutual. It was never going to work. We’re too different.”
“That sucks!” Paul commented. “He’s liked you since Year 9. He tried to keep the girls away from you and gave Oliver a slap last year for pushing you around. Are you sure you got this right?”
“Oh, yes! Definitely,” Sophia breathed, swallowing the choking sensation in her throat.
“Poor baby.” Heather put her arm around her friend and squeezed. “Well, you’re not going anywhere so he’ll have to get used to it.”
Sophia smiled and cringed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hang around someone she had wronged so badly. Besides, Dane hated her.
She decided she didn’t care anymore. The solid things in life were never what she thought they were, crashing down around her ears and doing so much damage – more than she ever thought possible. Friends, parents – boyfriends.
Edgar’s SUV was on the driveway, but Sophia’s new car wasn’t yet. A note in the kitchen said he was taking the mechanic back to the garage and would fill it up for her, so they could have a little test drive that evening. She smiled at the effort Edgar was making and looked forward to it, stroking the funny little smiley face her father drew on the notepaper.
She wandered down the hallway whistling under her breath and bumped into Dane coming out of the bathroom, still wet from the sh
ower. He groaned as the impact shook every aching part of him and he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment. The white gauze over his chest wound oozed red stuff and his rib cage displayed most of the colours of the rainbow. His jeans hung below his striped boxer shorts, revealing his massive weight loss recently through stress and injury.
“Sorry,” Sophia said, waiting for him to show he was all right before moving on.
“It’s fine.” He spoke through gritted teeth and Sophia shrugged and turned to leave, trying not to focus on Dane’s sculpted chest and stomach, or respond to the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Wait!” He reached for Sophia’s wrist and she dragged it away, waving arrogantly behind her as she walked down the corridor. “Bloody women!” Dane exclaimed and followed her. Sophia heard his breath coming in quick rasps as he covered the short distance between them in seconds. She felt the inexplicable urge to run, squealing as Dane’s tanned arm blocked her route into the bedroom. His forearm rested against the doorframe next to her face, his height towering over her like a bridge. His heady proximity made her close her eyes and fight her attraction.
“I got a call from Harold,” Dane said, flexing his arm muscles as Sophia pushed against it. “Don’t walk away from me, Soph.” His voice held warning, but when she looked into his face, his eyes sparkled and danced with the thrill of the chase. She sighed like an insolent child and rolled her eyes. Dane smirked.
“If you thought so badly of me, why did you go to all that trouble? You’ve been doing my job for me. A bit too well, by Harold’s account!” He reached out and fingered a curly lock of Sophia’s hair and she shivered. Dane’s eyes became sultry and he moved his hand up to her neck.
Sophia gave a little shrug, ignoring the disturbing sensations in the pit of her stomach. “Because,” she said simply. This too shall pass.
“And apparently, I’ve been shortlisted for a scholarship I never even applied for.”
“Oh crap! The cops took your passport and birth certificate. They came for it on Saturday as evidence. They made Dad hand it over.”
Sophia’s emotions rocked in her chest, making her feel seasick. She pushed at Dane’s arm and considered kicking him in the shins. His blue eyes flashed with recognition and she blushed, caught contemplating violence against someone already weakened. “I would!” she threatened, danger in her eyes. “But my feet are still very sore and you’re not worth it!”
“Soph,” Dane said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “let’s stop this, please?”
She gritted her teeth and tried to think of something else. Her new car. Her bright red, shiny new car, which was about to arrive any second now and then she would go driving and then...
The thought died in her brain as he reeled her in, gently pulling at her waist until he managed to enfold Sophia’s stiff body completely in his arms. He smelled of shower gel and shampoo and his skin was soft and damp. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek and she felt the wet towel in his hand, seeping water through the back of her school blouse. “I shouldn’t have got mad. I can see how it looked.”
Dane’s lips settled fully on hers and Sophia let out a sigh of resignation, enfolding herself in his familiar kisses and enjoying the plummeting sensations as her heart plunged into her knees. Dane’s tongue probed her mouth gently and he dropped the towel, breathing through his nose as their passion heightened. Sophia felt hard muscle either side of his spine and caressed the tanned skin with tentative fingers, feeling Dane shiver with anticipation as he deepened the kiss.
The hall door opened with a loud bang, making them both jump. Edgar and Bob stood framed in the doorway. Edgar jangled a set of car keys in his fingers, his eyebrows raised in question and his disciplinarian’s face already in position.
Bob had an exceedingly smug look on his face and to Sophia’s surprise, laughed. “And that,” he announced splendidly, as though summing up his case to a spellbound jury and pointing at Dane, “is exactly why this young man is coming to live with me!”
Epilogue
Extract from an article in the local newspaper two days later.
‘Tonight, Police and Fire Investigators are looking into a house fire in the suburb of Fairview which destroyed a one storey dwelling and killed its single occupant. The house next to the railway line was boarded up and cordoned off by police, following a murder at the same address last Thursday night. Police had concluded their forensic examination of the property and it was sealed pending decontamination.
Police allege the house had been used as a ‘P’ lab over recent weeks. It is believed the deceased male entered the property, having been a former resident. He had been implicated in the death of Peter Hugh Marton at the property, but police were still pursuing their enquiries. A local source who declined to be named, has told this newspaper both men were engaged in the manufacture and distribution of pseudoephedrine and had a volatile relationship, which often resulted in physical fights.
Hettie Lassiter, 93, has lived in the street for sixty years with her husband, Clive 91. “I don’t think I’ve seen this much excitement in the street before. But me and my Clive aren’t surprised at how it’s all ended. I’m just sorry for the kiddies who lived there. Hopefully now they can go and make good lives for themselves someplace else. They always deserved better than that.”
Fire Investigators say initial findings indicate the likelihood that the occupant fell asleep with a lighted cigarette in the kitchen area of the house, previously used as the clandestine “P”-lab. The presence on fittings of the highly flammable chemical residue from the cooking process led to the explosion.
The deceased cannot be named until immediate family have been located. The coroner is expected to record his verdict at a hearing next month.’
An extract from the third book in the Troubled Series.
A Trail of Lies is set in the same school but looks at the issues surrounding another couple, Callister Rhodes and Declan Harris.
If you’re hooked on Dane and Sophia, feel free to skip to Book 4 Gone Phishing; both couples feature together in that book.
You can find the rest of the series HERE
Chapter 1
The dull razor blade tinkled out onto the shower tray, glinting up at her beneath the cascading water. Calli stood holding the redundant plastic casing of her razor, her olive face scowling in irritation at the implement’s betrayal. What else could go wrong today?
The teenager looked down at her tanned calves as the shower spray pounded the back of her willowy neck. They didn’t look too hairy; she could probably get away with it as long as they didn’t have assembly. Anyone sitting on the assembly hall floor close to her would notice the small protrusions of downy hair sneaking out of her pores. Calli considered shouting for her mother, instantly rejecting the thought. The new razors were in the hall cupboard. Marcia would yell at her, especially while she was trying to get ready for work and sort the little kids out.
Calli let the soap run from her body unhindered. She smoothed conditioner into her unruly, black curls and let it stay there, the wetness touching the bottom of her back uncomfortably. She turned off the shower even as the frantic knocking sounded on the bathroom door. “Hurry up, Calli, I’ve got netball practice at seven thirty! If I’m not there on time, the coach will make me sit out of the first quarter on Saturday. Come out, or I’ll get Mum!”
Exasperated, Calli snatched up the errant razor blade and gingerly picked her way out of the slippery shower. Winding her towel around her so she could unlock the bathroom door and admit her desperate, whining sister, she felt the blade’s sharp point slip underneath the skin of her index finger and winced. She couldn’t leave it in the bathroom bin in case Jase found it. She wouldn’t put it past her baby brother to do some serious damage to himself, out of boyish curiosity. “There!” she said rudely to the skinny blonde girl who bounced up and down on the balls of her feet outside the bathroom in a thin, cotton nightdress. “Try t
o get up on time next week.”
Calli was almost at her bedroom door when her sister let out a piercing screech, “Mum! Callister’s been using my shower gel!”
Calli rolled her appealing blue eyes and slammed her door on the ensuing scene, currently unfolding on the landing outside the bathroom. The razor blade produced a small nick that was painful, but not life-threatening. It bled a little as the sixteen year old got dressed in her school uniform, tartan skirt and white blouse. She pulled her damp curls back into a ponytail and pouted lips that rarely exhibited their fullness in a smile. Of all of her siblings, Calli was the only one who looked like her Samoan father. Raven haired and olive skinned like Simon, the others were blonde; blue eyed, sylphlike carbon copies of Marcia, their mother. It always made Calli feel like an outsider, her dark ringlets betraying her even when the other children were white blonde from the sunshine. She once heard an old lady in the park ask her mother if she was adopted. Calli would have loved to have been blonde, with easy-to-manage poker straight hair. She might have fitted in better.
Sighing, the girl straightened her school tie and slipped on the horrid black roman sandals that were part of the school issue uniform. Turning away from the mirror after a cursory check, she refused to look at herself again. There was no point. It changed nothing.
“Calli-Walli!”
The steady knocking came from somewhere near the bottom half of the bedroom door. With an exasperated shake of her head; Calli wrenched it open to find her tiny brother standing there, his shorts on backwards and his shirt buttoned up at the wrong intervals so his small chest resembled a rolling seascape. “Help me?” he beseeched her and pulled a cute face.