by Becca Lee
A pang of guilt built and consumed me. It wasn’t his fault. I knew it deep down, but things should not have played out how they did. Guilty or not, Mace had to take some responsibility for that, which he readily did.
I missed my brother. I missed the closeness we’d shared when we were younger, but sometimes things changed irrevocably, so much so there was no return. Moving forward sometimes meant leaving those you loved behind. Mace understood that. I’d done it for Jo, for me, and for Mace. I knew Mace struggled whenever he saw Jo. Knew he felt the guilt pressing down on his soul. It was easier to keep the distance, the divide, but regardless, I still missed my big brother.
I nodded at his words, not caring that he couldn’t see me. “Okay. I got it. Keep in touch, yeah?”
“Will do.”
I went to disconnect but Mace’s voice stopped me.
“Liam…” His voice, still low, had changed to one of sadness, the fierce arrogance he was renowned for no longer present. “Are you going to tell Jo? You know you need to, right?”
I sighed. “I know. I will, but not yet. I need to know more first. Talk soon, Mace.” I disconnected the call without waiting for a goodbye.
My own guilt pressed heavily against me. Jo and I promised each other never to lie. While I wasn’t lying per se, I wasn’t being honest and rushing to tell her what was going on. I felt shitty for it, but the thought of watching her crumble around me made me more resolute. My conviction and need to protect was true and strong. She’d be all shades of mad, but I would deal with the fallout. What I wasn’t willing to deal with was a broken Jo.
Chapter Five
Jo
Rather than returning to the office after my appointment, I headed straight into town and my favourite coffee shop. Even though I was being officially good and not drinking caffeine, I hoped the fresh coffee aroma would take the edge off, that and a huge slab of chocolate cake.
Slipping into a small booth, I waited for my milkshake and delicious yummy goodness to arrive. I needed time to recoup and gather myself. I’d just had my appointment at the doctor’s to confirm my pregnancy. I had an armful of pamphlets and a huge list of websites to check out, even more on top of the huge list Ella had put together for me. Apparently, they would help me prepare, but all they did was freak me the crap out. I immediately dumped them on the backseat of my car and drove for a chocolate fix, wishing Ella were with me. She was back at work, doing the laborious training and planning days before school started the following week.
Liam had offered to go with me, but there was honestly no need, so instead, I had gone it alone. My cake placed unceremoniously in front of me, I scooped up a fork and happily shovelled it into my mouth, every now and then taking a sip of my strawberry milkshake. The wonderful calories took effect almost instantly, making me lean back and sigh in contentment.
A flash of colour brought my unfixed gaze to the counter. I recognised the bold colours on the cute figure immediately. “Dani,” I called out.
I’d known Dani for a while, courtesy of my baby brother doing the dirty with her pre-Ella. We weren’t great mates or anything, but she was pretty awesome. Her bubbly, out-there personality was contagious. It was pretty hard not to like her. Not that I didn’t want to. Even Ella, who knew of Preston and Dani’s history, told me she really liked her.
Preston told me neither he nor Ella had seen Dani over the past few weeks; they seemed worried about her. I was glad I’d spotted her looking whole so I could let them know she was fine.
“Hey, Jo.” A tight smile formed on her lips, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
I couldn’t help but wonder and worry at her reaction. I didn’t know Dani well, but I knew enough about her to tell when something was not quite right. I forced a cheery smile and invited her to sit while she waited for her order. She looked over her shoulder and seemed to hesitate before sliding into the booth, sitting opposite me.
“You okay?” I asked.
She shrugged, once again a whisper of a tight smile forming. “Yep, sure. I’m fine.” She hesitated for a fraction. “You?”
I nodded. “Awesome, thanks. Unfortunately, I’m back in the swing of things already. My honeymoon seems like a million years ago.”
Her nod mirrored mine. “Oh, okay. Did you have a good time?”
There was something majorly off. Dani’s voice was flat, her eyes dull. Aware I did not know her all that well, I hovered over the line of being too personal, too nosey, but then I remembered I didn’t give a shit about boundaries. I almost chuckled at the thought.
“So, I can’t help but notice you look like shit, honey. What’s going on?” I tilted my head as I spoke. Sometimes, beating around the bush was not what it was cracked up to be. Sometimes, it was far better to charge into said bush, prickles and all, just to get a goddamn answer.
A spark entered her eyes and she laughed loudly. Shaking her head, her laughter turned into a smile, before it turned into a sporadic laugh sitting on her chest. Elbows on the table, she placed her head in her hands, shoulders shaking. Shit. She was crying. I was no good at tears. I always said something crazy inappropriate. Okay, maybe more inappropriate than usual, which was an impressive accomplishment. In my discomfort, my aim was always to break the tension in whatever way possible. This was one of those moments.
“Damn, Dani, did an echidna crawl up your arse and fart prickles or some shit like that? Damn, I’d lose it, too, if that happened to me.”
Laughter escaped between her sobs. I picked up a paper napkin from the table and pushed it in front of her.
“I don’t do well with snot. You going to use that?”
Dani reached down, a tear-stained grin on her face. Blowing her nose, she made eye contact. “Thank you.”
I nodded, touched her arm slightly, and gave a light squeeze.
“Gah! So sorry to do this to you. I’m a hot mess.”
I nodded in agreement, eyeing the small blob of snot hanging from her nostril. She took the hint as I eyed it unceremoniously, and to my relief, she wiped it away. I did not intend to vomit up my delicious cake, but it didn’t seem to take much to turn my stomach over the last couple of weeks.
“So, hot mess, what’s going on? Why all…this?” I gestured in her general direction, lifting my eyebrows in question, knowing concern was filling my eyes.
Bowing her head, she looked at her hands. Lifting her head slightly, meeting my gaze, she spoke, “It’s just been a shocking few weeks, you know?” She shrugged.
I remained quiet, waiting for her to elaborate.
“What with all the stuff with Ella and Preston, and—” She cut herself off and lowered her eyes again.
“And?” I questioned.
“Erm, well. It’s all been a lot. An old friend of mine passed recently.”
Noticing a slight edge to her voice, I looked at her a little closer. She really did look like crap. It looked like she’d been crying for a while. The darkness under her eyes, her blotchy skin a dead giveaway. Certainly more than a few moments that tears from sympathy created. I understood the panic over the whole crazy-arse drama with Ella and Preston, but to be honest, it happened a few weeks back, and I’d had my own adventure of discovering I was pregnant since then. Ella and Preston had recovered. Yeah, Ella was still sad because of the trauma, injury and the fact that Ben, the dude who’d gone all psycho, had died, but they had adjusted and were managing to move on. It seemed somewhat weird—okay, a lot weird—that Dani would be mentioning Ella and Preston to explain her own upset. A friend of hers dying, though, I understood.
“Oh, hun, I’m so sad for you. I know Ella and Preston have been worried about you. You should have called them to let them know what happened. They said you’ve been MIA.”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s just been hard.”
“I can imagine, hun. The person who died, were you close?”
She sighed softly and nodded before shrugging. “Yes, I mean, no. I don’t know.”
I was sure this
was one of those ultra-weird moments. She was acting slightly cuckoo and was beginning to addle my baby brain. I was sure baby brain was a real thing. I had no idea if it came while pregnant or once I’d had my baby, but I’d decided I’d begin to take ownership of any excuses I could think of to carry me through the next eighteen years or so. “You want to think about that?”
She wiped away a tear. “It’s just I thought I did, but apparently, I didn’t…know them that well, I mean. It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be, you know…complicated. Just don’t let it be. Be honest with yourself and don’t let life beat the crap out of you and complicate shit up.” It was true. I believed every damn word my less-than-eloquent mouth was saying.
Pursing her lips, Dani gave a slight nod. “Maybe.” She smiled. “I’ll try.” She looked over her shoulder as her name was called with her order. “Thanks, Jo. I have to go. It was good seeing you.”
“You, too, Dani. Be sure to call Preston, okay?”
She nodded before heading to the counter and collecting her order.
Liam was being a weird-arse and had been the last few days. I needed to get him to spill, which was rare. It was unlike him to keep crap to himself. If he continued, I was not impartial to pummelling his arse into submission for him to spill the goddamned beans.
One minute, he was being overly attentive to the point where I wanted to punch him if he stroked my growing tummy once more, while in the next moment, he disappeared to make a call. I knew he had been on the phone to Mace a fair bit. He’d told me several times, “Just need to check on something with Mace.” He’d then disappear for five, ten, sometimes twenty minutes at a time, before coming back like a bear with a sore head. I was close to smacking him in the head, the turd. His weirdness and occasional sharpness, which did not fly with me one iota, was giving me whiplash.
Things at work had finally settled down with a big contract being signed, and plenty of work was coming in. This meant I knew he wasn’t stressing about work, but it also made me curious as hell why he’d be talking to Mace. I refused to call him ‘Mace’ to his face on principle; it was always Simon. I’d forgotten what that principle was over the years, but calling a thirty-something-year-old man by a nickname rather than his name seemed a bit dense; it wasn’t even as though it was a shortened version of his name, like mine. That could happily be my new reason for sure. Plus, I knew it pissed him off. It was the little things in life that made me happy.
But the fact that Liam was on the phone with him a lot concerned me. Our contact with Mace was sporadic at best, and tended to be only business-related. A long time ago, I thought I’d put my demons to rest, and to be honest, I was ready to make peace with Mace. I thought it would actually be a good thing. Liam was the one who remained hesitant.
Standing up and preparing to take our dinner plates to the dishwasher, I stopped Liam with a hand on his forearm. He looked at me and smiled in question.
“Sit,” I ordered. I didn’t return his smile, resulting in his immediately disappearing.
“What’s wrong, babe?” He sat the plates down in front of him.
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what on Earth is going on.” He went to speak, but I cut him off immediately. “No bullshitting, no nothing. Something is off, and it stinks of something I need to know about.”
“Shit.” He looked pained as his brows furrowed, head lowering and face blanching. My heart plummeted in response, even though that was exactly what I smelt—shit. Whatever he was keeping from me, his reaction was enough to let me know I was not going to like what he had to say. And he would be telling me. He knew better than to continue to keep stuff from me. The thought that he’d already been lying, or possibly just not letting me in on something important, should have pissed me off. Okay, I was pissed off, but more than that, I knew Liam, soul-deep knew him. I knew he would only be doing whatever the hell he’d been doing, if he was trying to protect me. It was that knowledge that triggered my heart to sink before it started racing.
“I’m ready.” I really, really wasn’t, but I was rarely a coward, unless it involved spiders, and I didn’t think he was hiding a nest of fat, hairy huntsmen in the garage.
He nodded, stood up, and removed something from his jacket pocket, which was hanging up. Sitting back down, he reached out and took my right hand in his. Bugger, this is definitely not going to be good. “It’s best if you just read this.” He handed me a folded and creased piece of white paper. I could see handwriting through the page, but had no idea what could have caused this reaction.
Liam didn’t release the paper immediately. Instead, he held on to it at the same time I did without saying a word. Regret, worry and a glimmer of anger were evident in his eyes.
“I can handle whatever this is,” I said, pleased my voice did not quaver, despite my rising panic.
He nodded and removed his hand.
Cracking my neck from side to side in attempt to release the tension, I proceeded to unfold the piece of paper. It was a letter.
Chapter Six
Liam
I didn’t know what frightened me more: the lack of emotion springing from Jo or the fact that she’d kissed me on the head and had left the room, heading to our bedroom. I sat at the table feeling numb. None of the crap that played out should have ever happened. It certainly should not be rehashed, especially at a time when Jo was at her most vulnerable. She’d never admit she was vulnerable, but the reality was she was pregnant, plus she had to face a past which we’d tried damn hard to deal with and leave behind.
Jo was always a straight shooter. After the nightmare of seven years earlier, we’d dealt with the chaos head-on. We’d also separated for a time. The memory of our split always hit me hard when I thought about it, but I also knew Jo needed the time to grow and deal on her own terms. There was no ignoring, no sweeping under the carpet. At the time and three years later, even more so, we’d talked and cried, screamed and shouted, until there were no longer any more words, just a distant, albeit painful, memory.
Standing, I picked up the letter, refolded it, grabbed my jacket, and returned it to my pocket. I couldn’t sit on my arse and do nothing. Before I headed out, I kissed Jo lightly on her head and pulled the covers under her chin. I knew she feigned sleep, but she was also doing what she needed to in order to survive. “I love you,” I whispered as I closed our door.
Before I started my bike, I called Ella. She remained silent as I gave her a quick rundown. She promised me she’d be by Jo’s side in under ten minutes. Knowing Jo was safe and that she didn’t need me at that moment, I revved my bike and headed to Mace’s. He said he would call when he had something, but the thought of sitting around doing jack-shit was more than I could handle.
I enjoyed the pull of gravity as I opened my bike up, needing the spike of adrenaline to help me keep a balance. In too short a time, I pulled up outside Mace’s house. There was a collection of Harleys outside. Removing my helmet, I headed around the back to the kitchen where I knew Mace and some of the boys would be hanging out. I was right.
The door was open, a barbeque was lit, and a group of seven or so people were milling around. I recognised the familiar faces and nodded in greeting. I headed straight inside where I found Mace with his head in the fridge. “Get me one while you’re there, brother.”
Mace pulled back with two beers in his hand, closed the fridge, and handed me a cold beer. He indicated to the door leading to the rest of the house. Wordlessly, I followed, closing the door behind me.
He sat on the leather sofa in his sitting room. I grabbed the chair opposite, taking in the modest room decorated in neutral colours, with a few photographs dotted around. Considering Mace’s greaser ways, it never failed to amuse me how sophisticated his tastes were.
I stood up and headed toward a photo frame on one of the shelves. Lifting it to take a closer look, I smiled at the memory. It was taken when I was barely twenty. Jo sitting on my lap, head thrown back laug
hing at something no doubt ridiculous Mace was saying. He was sitting to my side, Abi standing behind him, arms draped over his shoulders.
We were so young, so delusional to the shitstorm heading our way just a few years after. Seeing Abi reminded me that it wasn’t just Jo and me who were hurting. Mace was hurting, too. I replaced the frame without saying a word and sat back down.
“You told her then?” I nodded in response. “What did she say?”
“Nothing.” I swept my hands through my hair. “Nothing at all. She’s not ready. El’s with her now.”
Mace pursed his lips, clearly wanting to say more as he leaned his elbows on his knees.
“Out with it,” I prompted.
“It’s screwed. We know it. There’s shit-all we can do. I’ve tried to find an in, but it’s impossible. Frank, you know, from the Goldie, is in there at the moment, but shit’s too tight there.” He looked at me pointedly. “We can sort this shit out when he’s released.”
I knew what he was saying, what he was suggesting. I also knew there was no way I could even consider travelling down that path. Mace was a lot of things, and he’d been in more scrapes than most people I knew. Yet to suggest what I knew he was suggesting, what he was implying, despite the fact that I wanted nothing more than to destroy the man who’d changed Jo’s life irrevocably, was not me. I also knew Mace, like me, was not a murderer. Hell, he’d been a cop in a former life. The thought drew my attention back to the photograph of Abi, the final nail which dragged him out of the force and into the life he since led.
I shook my head. “No.” My voice was firm, resolute. “We will deal with this. He will continue to pay, but not that way. Never that way. The last seven years have been hard enough. The guilt has been enough; my guilt has been enough. I won’t be taking any more shit, not anymore.”
Mace did not look pleased, but I also knew he would never recover if we took the next step. There had been enough guilt over the past seven years, enough for a lifetime. “So, what do you want to do, Liam?”