by Max Henry
“You must be Belle,” the portly middle-aged man asks as he retrieves road cones from the back of his utility. “I’ll get these set up, and then we’ll have you sorted in a heartbeat.”
His gaze drops to the unsecured strap of my feeding bra and the skewed shoulder of my over-sized T-shirt. Yep. We both know what I was doing just now, and considering I have a wailing child balanced on my knee, we both know what I need to do next.
I ditch my already wounded pride and suck it. The guy tucks his head down and gets to work while I shift my shirt to the other side and flop out tiny-tittie number two. I’m leaving the house prepared for everything from now on. Usually, I’d have a cloth to drape over my shoulder for privacy, but of course, I was only ducking out to get Sera’s shots done. We weren’t going to be long.
Or so I thought.
“So,” my new friend says before clearing his throat. “What seems to be the problem?”
The poor guy has no idea where to look.
“I have no alternator,” I state feeling every part the shambles that I probably look with my shirt skewed, a faded umbrella over my head, and a grizzly child hanging from my boob.
“Okay.” He nods, still staring at the tufts of overgrown grass poking through the cracks in the bitumen. “I can give you a jump start, but you won’t make it far if the battery isn’t charging.”
“Yep.” I pop the P with my lips.
I’m well aware of what it means.
“Do you have insurance to cover a tow-truck?” He lifts his chin to squint at the sky.
“Nope.” Still poppin’ my P.
“Okay, then.” The guy scratches his chin while I seat Sera on my leg and tuck my boob away. “All I can offer is to drop you at the nearest service station.” He pointedly looks at his work ute. “When you’re finished.”
I shake my head while rubbing circles on my daughter’s back. “You’re safe to look now.”
His cheeks flush a deep pink when he turns his head my way. “Are you able to retrieve the vehicle by tomorrow?”
Can’t really see Zeus towing it home with his motorbike. “I don’t know.”
I’ve completely screwed up this guy’s afternoon. It’s written in the crinkle around his eyes as he lets out a long and laboured breath. “I’m sure you’re doing the best you can—”
Aren’t we all?
“—but I need to advise that if we’re required to remove the car tomorrow, you’ll receive a bill for the transportation and impoundment of an abandoned vehicle.” He shrugs one shoulder. “We can’t leave it there, missy. Too much of a hazard.”
Missy. I’m sure the guy is aiming for cute and friendly with the term of endearment, yet my hackles rise at how irresponsibly helpless a simple word makes me feel.
I’m not a stupid little girl.
I can look after myself … when my car wants to run.
“It’s okay.” I rise with a much more subdued Sera clinging to my side. “I’ll have it sorted.”
He nods once and heads for my poor, neglected Honda. “Standard fixings for the capsule?”
“Yeah. We don’t have the anchor bolt. It’s a belt-in model.”
A chubby thumb in the air and my hero gets to work moving Sera’s baby-seat from our ride to his. Her little head flops against my shoulder, and I reposition the umbrella from where it dug into my neck, to my other hand.
Sure, the sun is beating down with a ferocity that has me eyeing the animal trough in the neighbouring paddock with envy, and I have a mountain of issues to tackle before this problem can be put to bed for good. But shit. Life could be worse.
Sera’s safe. And I’m safe. I have enough to be thankful for.
Damn it.
Shuffling my baby-girl to the other side, I manage to rest the umbrella’s stem along her back, jamming the handle in my hand so that I can retrieve my phone. Zeus will be out of his mind if I don’t give him that promised call.
The info at the top right shows nine per cent remaining as I swipe hastily to his number.
“All set to go!” Chubby calls out, swinging his arm to gesture me to the sign-written vehicle.
The line rings once as I jam the phone between shoulder and ear and set about fixing Sera in her seat. Straps pinched precariously between my forefinger and thumb, I lean a little further into the ute to click her safe and sound.
The damn call drops out.
“You can do that at the servo,” Chubby instructs with a nod toward my phone. “We need to get you two off the side of this road.”
I glance down at the depleted battery—seven per cent—and sigh. “Sure. Sorry.”
Fingers crossed it lasts until then.
TWO
Zeus
“Not sticking around, bro?”
I wave off my workmate and sling a leg over the bike. “Gotta head away early. Ask Terry if you need anything; he knows I’m gone.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He dismisses me with a friendly wave.
One jerk of my wrist and the bike roars to life. Fucking Belle won’t pick up. Or to be more accurate, her damn phone won’t get past voicemail.
Common sense tells me that if something truly bad had happened, I’d damn well know about it by now. But that fucking part of me that’s always wanted to keep Belle out of harm’s way niggled at my brain like a damn worm until I bailed on the crew.
She called an hour ago.
She should be home by now.
The one upside to leaving before the end of my shift is that the traffic isn’t as thick this time of day. What takes me over half an hour in the evening barely costs me fifteen minutes before I’m cutting in front of Belle’s abandoned car on the side of the motorway.
Sera’s seat is gone from the back, and the vehicle’s locked up tighter than a nun’s.
One more glance at my phone shows a new voicemail. Fuck. First thing I’m damn well buying when we have the spares is a Bluetooth kit.
I tear my helmet off and dial through the voicemail, giving the car a kick for good measure while I wait. The robotic woman goes through the motions, and I stab the ‘1’ harder than necessary.
“Hey, babe. Sorry it took me so long to call. My phone died, and it was ages before the staff would let me use their phone out back. Kate dropped me home. See you there.”
Thank fuck.
I release the breath I didn’t realise I’d held and take a step back. Cars whip by on the opposite side of Belle’s Honda, their backdraft rocking the heap on its worn suspension.
I shouldn’t stop here longer than necessary, but if I get on that damn bike right now, I’m bound to add a traffic fine to our list of problems.
My arse hits the steel Armco, hands dropping between my knees.
How the fuck did we get here?
A year ago, we had it all mapped out. Belle was starting up her tattoo studio at home, and I was getting extra pay under my belt before going out on my own. Instead, the home studio has become a makeshift storage room, and I’m working more hours than I ever have for barely the same pay as I made at my last job.
Our dreams continue to be this fucking golden carrot, dangling in front of our faces. And we’re the stupid old nag that keeps dragging the wheel around and around trying to catch it.
Like fuck, I’ll give up on it, though. I’ve come too far to backtrack, to quit, to start over.
Choices are limitless, we’re told. But I guess the people spouting that shit haven’t got a criminal record that includes time served inside. Stamp that on your history, and suddenly your choices scatter like ashes on the wind.
I growl at the fucking car again and then focus on the phone in my hand while I flick through to Mike’s number. I need help getting this piece of shit home, and like hell, I’m calling anyone else.
Not when it entails tucking my fucking tail between my legs.
“S’up?” He answers with his no bullshit, straight to the chase style.
“Hey, brother.” I run a free hand over my head. “Thing’
s still good for you?”
I suggested he take the manager’s spot with my old crew and fuck me dead, my former boss listened. Mike’s been off the sweat end of a shovel for a year now, and the change of pace did him well.
“Yeah. Not much has changed since we caught up. Same old, same old.” He chuckles. “It’s not why you called, though, eh?”
“Guilty.” My brow furrows, eyes tightly closed. “I need to call up that favour you said you owed me.”
“We’re not burying a body, are we?”
A heavy snort out my nose is the best I can do at his attempt at humour. He knows my past and considering I’ve beaten my fair share of men into the hospital, the taunt isn’t quite as funny as he may have intended. “Nah. You got time to tow a car for me?”
“Where from?”
“Northern Motorway. ‘Bout twenty from mine.”
He sighs; the line rustles as he shifts. “I can be there in half an hour. That okay?”
“I’ll take what you got, man.”
“You need a rope, or you have one?”
Jesus. My man-card is pretty fucking flimsy today. “Nah. I need all that.”
“No worries.”
“Hey,” I state, speaking as I think the issue over. “I’m on my bike. You think you could wrestle up somebody to help you?”
“Yeah. I’m sure Tayn will be happy to come along for the ride.”
“Thanks, man.” I rise from the Armco. “I’ll leave the key tucked under the passenger side of the front spoiler. Fix you up when you get to ours.”
“Zeus,” he says flatly. “It’s a favour, bro. Forget about it.” He covers the mouthpiece and shouts for his son. “See you in an hour.”
The guy disconnects before I get a chance to protest, which is probably a good thing anyway; I have nothing to get him a petrol voucher or beer for the trouble, anyway.
“Fuck.” My curse disappears on the breeze, drowned out by the sound of the passing traffic.
I hate being in this position. There’s nothing that irritates me more than having to rely on others to bail me out. Not when I should be more than capable of looking after myself by now.
Fuck knows, the only thing that holds me together is the woman waiting at home for me, and my baby girl.
Without Belle … Don’t go there, dickhead.
Thinking about what might have been, what could still come—there’s nothing helpful to be found there.
If I want to claw myself out of this shithole, I have to do the same thing I’ve always done.
I got to bury that pain deep and put a lid on it.
Got to be the man.
THREE
Belle
Fingertips massaging the ache from my shoulder, I stand with my head tipped to one side and watch as my 2-Minute Noodles cook on the stove. Letting Sera sleep this late in the afternoon is bound to be an arse tonight when she has me up half the night, but I couldn’t ignore the rumble in my gut any longer.
So, I caved.
I traded half an hour of peace now for twice as long cursing myself tonight.
The steam rises, carrying the tantalising smell of the chicken and corn flavour sachet I just added. My stomach grizzles in complaint, doing its damnedest to convince my throat to take the pain while I eat the food hot.
Not to be. I pour the basic meal into a bowl and set it aside to cool for a few minutes when a familiar rumble fades in from the road.
Daddy’s home.
Abandoning my late lunch, I dash out the front door in the hopes I can flag Zeus down before he parks in the garage. Having Sera’s room adjacent is a shit when she’s asleep during the day, but it works best for having her close to us at night.
My bare feet hit the gravel drive, the prickly stones stinging as I dash into view. Zeus hits the anchors, the bike skidding a channel in the driveway with its back tyre. I gesture madly to the house, hands clasped beside my head in a ridiculous pantomime of a sleeping child.
My man cuts the engine, his helmet off seconds later and discarded on the vacant seat.
Twenty years knowing him, and Zeus can still take my breath away when he walks toward me with such purpose.
“Fuck, I’m glad you’re both okay.” His strong hands rise to cup my face, and I lean into the touch. “I’m sorry, dove.” A heavy sigh escapes his nose.
“It’s okay.” I slip my arms around his firm waist and nestle the side of my head against his chest. “It is what it is.”
The comforting beat of his racing heart assures me how genuine Zeus is with his concern.
He cares as much as I do.
His heart still belongs to us.
“How are we going to get the car home?” I pull back to see his face. “The rescue guy said if it’s there tomorrow, it gets impounded.”
My pulse matches his, and yet it’s for an entirely different reason now. We can’t afford to get the car out if it is locked away. A new alternator will be the least of our worries.
“I’ve got it sorted, babe.” A single sweep of his thumb, the slightest hood of his eyes.
I press on my bare toes to meet his kiss, ignoring the sting of the gravel under my weight. His breath is hot, mingling with my own. I relish the taste of gum on his breath, sliding my hand to his thick neck to reassure him that I’m here, and I’m okay, once again.
He started chewing the pastilles shortly after Sera was born as a way to redirect tension when he’s agitated. Fatherhood may have mellowed my beast, but he still leashes a rage that triggers when those he loves are under threat—no matter how fickle the situation.
Having a daughter only doubled that fierce sense of protection.
“How long has she been down?” Zeus frowns at the house.
I take his hand and lead us toward the open door. “Not long. I was about to eat. You hungry?”
He shakes his head, glancing at the bike. “I had lunch.”
“It’ll be fine.” I tug harder, leading him into our home and past my cooling noodles.
His lips curl up on one side, that mischievous glint in his eye telling me he knows the plan when I head back to shut and lock the front door. It’s not all that often we get time alone while Sera’s asleep during the day.
I’m not going to let it pass by.
“Dove,” he softly says as I direct him to the sofa. “I’ve just got in from work. Give me a second to shower.”
“No.” Hands to his collarbones, I force him to sit. “I’m not wasting any time.”
His palms find my hips as I climb atop his solid lap. “You know I only agree because of this.” He pinches my extra-large T-shirt between two fingers and tugs at it.
“I know.” It is one of his, after all.
Zeus tips his head back to rest on the back of the seat, exposing his muscled neck. Beautiful black locks cascade over his shoulder, and I can’t resist; my fingers comb the lengths.
I’m a sucker for long hair on a man and seeing it on my man? I never stood a chance.
His skin tastes salty with sweat, warm and firm beneath my gentle kisses. The most delicious rumble vibrates in his throat, tickling me as I work my way from his collarbone, up the exposed ridge of his jugular, and to his ear.
“Undress me.”
With a pained groan, he pushes his fingertips beneath the waistband of my leggings. I arch my back, helping him manoeuvre the stretchy fabric over the mound of my arse and down my thighs. Two taps of his palm to my butt, and I do as he wants, stepping off the sofa so he can pull the tight clothing from my feet.
It’s a dance we’ve done hundreds of times before, and still, I never tire of the thrill.
Hands braced to his shoulders, I glance down my T-shirt clad body and watch as he carefully guides my feet free one-by-one. Comfy house clothes and Zeus still manages to make me feel like a princess. Warm, calloused palms caress my calves in turn, and then the outside of my thighs until he lifts the hem of the shirt. I’m lost in the vivid depths of his blue eyes as he nudges it higher.
I reach up and slide my hand around the tie that restrains my ponytail, sliding my locks free. Zeus’s gaze hoods, his lips curled in appreciation while I shake the lengths over my shoulders. Any other time of the day and taking my hair out would be yet another routine action, but when he looks at me with such undeniable lust, it becomes something else entirely.
Foreplay. A tease. A taunt to make me let go a little bit more.
He wastes no time removing the T-shirt, quickly following with my bra. I’m seated across his thick thighs in nothing other than my panties, and I still feel overdressed. But not as much as he is.
“Babe,” I say on a sigh.
His gaze lifts to find mine; hands paused in their exploration of my naked form.
One tip of my chin toward his work shirt, and he readjusts his grip to my hips, lifting me from the sofa with him. I’m dropped on the cushion with seeming impatience, his fingers making fast work of his buttons and belt. Mere seconds later, Zeus rewards me with the moment knitted in my mind since he first growled down the line, roadside.
My man. My provider. My rock.
Buck naked.
Thumbs hooked in the sides of my panties, I bite my lip and hitch an eyebrow.
“Dove.” His hand wraps the thick length hanging heavy between his legs.
I slide the cotton down to my ankles and then kick it aside with a flick of my foot. “What are you waiting for?”
The space between us vanishes. Zeus holds his weight on one hand, buried into the seat cushion beside me, his other tangled in my hair while he kisses me with enough force to steal the air from my lungs. We each fight for dominance, his teeth painfully pulling me closer with a brutal grip on my bottom lip, my legs fighting to find purchase wrapped around his waist.
The sofa tips and the giggle that escapes my lips gets cut short with his frustrated growl as he jerks me toward him, forearm wrapped across my lower back.
Zeus enters with one forceful thrust, the desperate desire signalled in the fine pin-prick of his pupils. For a moment, our titles fade, and we’re no longer Mum and Dad, Sera’s parents.