I had it built-in so I can lay down a demo track whenever it suits me without having to organise studio time. I haven’t had much of a chance to use it. But in the three months I’m taking off, I plan to use it a lot. I feel like I’m bursting with songs right now.
I chuckle as she and Theo play around with the equipment then excuse myself to get back to Lisa. I feel like I’ve already been away from her for too long.
“Sorry about…that…” I say to the empty room where Lisa is supposed to be. She’s gone. Shit!
My heart thuds in my chest and my mouth goes instantly dry as I start to panic. My eyes dart around for a moment before I race for the front door, opening it just in time to lock eyes with her as the lift doors close.
Shit. “Lisa!” I yell, running to the lift and hitting the button. I’m too late, it’s already on the move.
The only choice I have is to take the stairs. Flinging the door open, I burst out onto the landing and take the stairs at breakneck speed. The whole time I’m racing the elevator, I’m praying that she is ok, that the press hasn’t gotten to her before I do.
Reaching the downstairs lobby, I burst out of the door and check the lifts. It’s still moving. Fuck!
“Sir?” Serge questions as he sees the panicked look on my face.
I flick my gaze to him, just as the press outside sees me through the glass entryway.
“Marcus!” they call out, cameras flashing as they push against the police barricade. Shit, I didn’t realise the crowd had gotten that bad, and there’s protestors as well.
They’re holding up signs with pictures of Lisa with an X over her face and there’s a rather graphic one of her as a spider with my head in her mouth…
Shaking the images from my mind, I turn on my heel and re-enter the stairwell, racing down to the parking garage and hoping that I’m not too late.
***
Lisa
A few minutes earlier…
“Lisa!”
My mouth drops open and I stumble backwards in surprise. Marcus. He saw me. Shit. Fuck… oh god, I think I might vomit. What am I doing? Shit. I lean forward on my knees and breathe for a moment, convincing myself that I’m doing the right thing. He’ll find some other woman by tomorrow morning and all will be well with the world again.
But first, I need to get out of here.
My heart feels as though it’s wedged itself in my throat as I travel down to the parking garage. I’m hoping to be able to escape through there instead of the front entrance. This place is pretty secure and you need special keys and passes to get in, but getting out should be easier. I mean, there are laws pertaining to emergency exits and such. I just have to hope that I don’t set off any alarms.
I know what you’re thinking. I’m a total bitch. I’m not going to argue with you on that point but unless you’ve been through what I’ve been through, you’re not going to understand why I’m doing what I’m doing. So I’m going to ask you to keep your judgement to yourself and just pray with me that Marcus isn’t going to catch up to me at the bottom.
This is for the best. Don’t let your hope and love for a happy ending get in the way of what the right thing is. This isn’t a movie. It’s real life. I need to be logical.
Regaining my composure, I stand up fully and smooth my hand over my hair. The lift pings and comes to a stop on the third floor. When the door opens, I wonder why the universe is fucking with my life. Because who should step on? Fucking Jonathan Masters.
“Leisil. What a pleasant surprise,” he grins as he steps in next to me.
I fold my arms protectively over my middle. “What are you doing here?”
He grins and bounces a shoulder nonchalantly. “Just visiting a friend. A lot of press out there today. She feels like she can’t go outside.”
“And how does your fiancée feels about that?”
“She’s at a spa or something, somewhere. As long as she has the ring and the Platinum Card, she doesn’t question anything I do.”
“Ah, true love,” I sigh mockingly, batting my eyelashes at him. The lift opens in the car park and I step out in front of him. Pausing for a moment while I survey the area for a way to get out.
“Lost your car?” he asks.
“No, I’ve just lost my mind and my right to a quiet life, but as long as you’re happy…” I retort. Just seeing him again makes me so angry. I feel like running a car into his house all over again right now.
“Listen, Leisil. Despite everything that’s happened – I don’t hate you. I’m sorry the press are after you again. If you need help sneaking out - I’ll help you.”
I respond with a suspicious look, which garners a laugh from him.
“Come on Leis, you know me. I may be a philanderer, but I’m not a vindictive person. I would never throw you to the wolves. You can hide in the back seat of my car and I’ll get you out of here. That’s what you want isn’t it? You’re trying to run off again?”
Meeting his eyes, I nod.
“Then let me help you.”
I take a deep breath. “Ok”
Marcus
A loud metallic echo rings out through the cement garage as the door bangs against the wall and I step out into the cool air of the underground. The sound of a car going over the speed bumps draws my attention and I race toward it.
I catch it as it waits for the metal security gate to open and knock on the driver’s window.
“Shit. It’s you,” I say, slightly out of breath from running.
“It is me,” Jonathan Masters, Lisa’s ex-boyfriend and the start of all this crap, replies, looking me up and down like I’m some kind of freak who’s wasting his time.
“Is she with you? Did you see her?” I ask, trying to get a look inside his car, but his window is barely down and I can’t see much more than his face.
“Is who with me?” He drives forward slightly when the gate’s alarm starts to go off because it’s been open for too long, and I walk beside his car, refusing to let him go without answering me.
“Who the fuck do you think? Leisil. Did you see her leave?”
“No. I’m sorry. I have to go Marcus. I hope we can meet under better circumstances next time.”
He starts to move the car again and once again, I move with him, keeping my hand on the edge of his window.
“What do you want Marcus? I’ve answered your question,” he says, stopping again. I glance at the parking garage as the door starts to close. Shit.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Mate, I’m fucking in love with the woman you hurt. If you’re lying to me, then the next time a car goes through the front of your house, I’ll be the one behind the wheel – you feel me?”
“One hundred percent, mate,” he says, putting his car in gear and speeding off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. It’s now that I realise that I’m not even wearing shoes. Nor do I have my keys so I can get back in.
Great. Now I’m going to have to go through the front.
Lisa
“You can sit up now. We’re clear,” Jonathan informs me after we’ve been driving for about ten minutes.
I pull the blanket off me and get up from the floor of the back seat, then look around cautiously.
“Leis, relax. I’m not lying to you. If you’ll remember, I never once threw you under the bus publicly. I never spoke out against you, and I dropped all the charges against you. I was pissed off, but I didn’t want your life turned upside down the way it was.”
Sliding onto the actual seat, I pull on my seatbelt and look out the window. “I know. I did it all to myself.”
He looks at me via the rear view mirror. “You always did have a temper on you.”
“And look where it got me - on the run from the press again. I hate this fame game, Jonathan. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I guess that’s because you’ve always been famous by association. When you’re
known for something you worked on, it makes it a little more rewarding.”
“I don’t want to be known for anything. I just want to be left alone,” I reply, looking down at my hands.
“What are you going to do about Marcus Bailey? Are you leaving that behind too?”
I close my eyes, squeezing my emotions back before they flow out of me again.
‘I’m fucking in love with the woman you hurt’
The comment, and the distress in his voice keep replaying in my mind. There’s this intense heaviness in the centre of my chest that aches and nags at it. It wants me to go back to him.
I swallow against it, wishing it would go away. “Yeah. I have to leave it behind. He’s just like you. It won’t end well if I stay.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“No offence, but after you broke up with me, I wasn’t chasing after you like he just did.”
“It doesn’t matter. Every way I look at this, I can’t see it working without one of us giving up on something that’s important to us. For me, it’s my privacy, and for Marcus, it’s his career. One of us would be forced into unhappiness – how can that work?”
***
Marcus
Keeping my head down, I walk as fast as I can around the building. There are about four police officers standing around holding the crowd back. I shake my head – what a waste of resources.
The crowd consists of press and fans who are here to watch any sort of spectacle that might go down. Well, I’m about to give them one.
Staying as close to the building as I can, I push my way through the crowd and jump the barriers.
“Oh my god! It’s Marcus!” someone screams and all of a sudden, I’m being pawed by many sets of hands, grabbing at my shirt, and my arms. The cops immediately come to my aid, and push the grabby people back.
Flashes are going off everywhere, making it hard to see what’s happening. The yelling and the questions are this cacophony of noise that makes absolutely no sense. I’m thrust through the front door of my apartment building, almost tripping from the momentum.
I keep moving forward, feeling awful that all of this is happening because I’m living here. The other residents must hate my guts right now. No one knew I was here until yesterday. I had hoped I could come back to Australia and have some sort of a home for a while instead of living out of hotels. I guess that’s just not going to happen.
“Hey Serge,” I say as I walk, barefoot, toward him.
“Mr Bailey,” he replies with a nod, acting completely professional despite my appearance.
“Do you think you could give me a hand to get back upstairs? I didn’t bring my keys.”
“Certainly sir.”
As I ride up in the lift, I seriously have to fight with myself to keep from crying. Why did she have to take off? Why couldn’t she stay, talk to me and sort this out? I get that she’s scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But she ran. She fucking ran.
“Fuck,” I yell, slamming both hands into the side of the lift. “FUCK!” I do it again and again before dropping my head against the cool of the metal. “Fuck,” I whisper, just breathing to calm myself down until the lift reaches my floor.
The moment I make it inside my flat, Theo and Naomi are immediately questioning me. “What happened? You’re on the fucking news again.”
“She took off,” I reply with like, zero, emotion in my voice. Moving with purpose, I collect my keys, wallet and put on pair of shoes.
“Where are you going?” Naomi asks.
“To get her,” I tell her like it’s the most obvious answer on the planet. Because really – where else would I be going?
Theo stands up and grabs his keys. “Don’t you drive, Marcus. You’re not thinking right. Let us take you. Besides, they’ll follow your car.”
I place my hands on top of my head and blow out my breath. “Yeah. Ok.”
***
Lisa
“I can’t see any reporters,” Jonathan remarks as we turn into my street.
“They’re probably all camped out at Marcus’s. They all think I’m there,” I comment, trying to see if there are any cars I don’t recognise in the street. Everything seems clear.
I point out my house to him and he pulls into the driveway. “Are you going to be ok?”
“I should be. Thanks for the lift,” I tell him as I get out of the car on the passenger side. “I appreciate the help.” Shutting the door, I begin to turn away when I hear him yell out.
“Shit Leis, look out!”
Seemingly from nowhere, a whole group of reporters have appeared and are coming toward me. For a moment I freeze, standing there, looking at them wide-eyed while I try to decide whether I should dive back into the car or run for my house.
I don’t get the chance to make the decision myself. Jonathan throws the blanket and his arm around me to shield me from the cameras and ushers me toward the door as the press descends on us, yelling questions.
“Jonathan, does this mean you and Ms Marx are reconciling?”
“Leisil, can you comment on your relationship with Marcus Bailey?”
“Where is Marcus Bailey?”
“Where have you been Leisil?”
“Can you respond to the rumours that you’ve been living in a mental institution for the past eighteen months?”
“Have you spoken to your father?”
“Now that you’ve come out of hiding will you be trying to reconcile with your parents and will you do that on live tv?”
“What do you have to say about the public referring to you as the Honey Badger?”
As we get in the house, Jonathan stands in the doorway and turns to them. “Leisil wants nothing more than to live a quiet life. Please respect that and leave.”
“Are you worried she’s going to lose her mind and stab you if you go in there?” one person yells out as he shuts and locks the door.
“Ok. So I guess they were hiding,” he says when he turns to me.
“Thank you… again. Seems like you’re my rescuer today.”
He shrugs. “If I had have been a better person in the beginning, I wouldn’t need to save you now. Consider it all a long overdue gesture. “
“Lisa, is that you?” I hear from in the back of the house.
“Sandra?”
Her voice gets louder as she approaches. “Yeah, the press were everywhere when I got here and I couldn’t get out with Perry so I just stayed. He’s in the backyard…” She appears in the archway and freezes when she sees Jonathan. “You…you’re… oh wow. It’s really nice to meet you in person,” she says to him, walking toward him and extending her hand to shake his while she leans in to say only to me, “You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady.”
I nod, knowing that she deserves an explanation. “This is Sandra. She’s a reporter, so be careful what you say.”
Jonathan laughs. “Are you serious? You’re running from reporters and there’s one staying in your house. I hope the irony isn’t lost on you here.”
“No it’s not. But Sandra is my best friend. She’s not here to write a story.”
“Whories over stories,” she says, tapping her fist to her heart and then giving the peace sign with her fingers as she nods coolly.
I look at her and laugh. “Since when is that a saying?”
“Since just now. Ho’s before Bro’s didn’t fit, so I made one up. I think it might catch on,” she tells me matter-of-factly.
“Ok,” Jonathan interrupts. “So what’s the plan now that you’re home? Are you just hunkering down or are you moving on?”
“I’m moving on,” I state.
“There’s a lot of press out there Leis. They’ll just follow you,” Sandra points out.
“I know. We’re going to need a distraction. Which is where you two are going to come in.”
The plan is simple. I trade clothes with Sandra, and using the same blanket he covered me with when we came in, Jonath
an instead covers Sandra and leads her to his car. The press will naturally assume that she is me and follow them. Easy. Right?
I watch from a small gap behind my blinds as they all leave, waiting a moment to be sure they’re all gone, then I go to the back door and get Perry inside, thankful that I don’t get attacked by a flashbulb to the eyes out there.
The moment I call him in, he’s jumping up and down and swiping his tail from side to side so fast that it’s a blur of golden fur. I kneel down and scratch his ears, telling him what a good dog he is as I wrap my arms around him and allow myself to have this one moment of comfort, with the one male in my life who will always be here for me.
“You ready to go on a trip?” I ask him. He responds by licking my face, so I’ll take that as a yes.
When you’ve remade your life, you’re forever afraid that the carefully woven strings of the fabric of your new world will fray and come undone, so I’ve always been prepared. Today is the real reason I have a Landcruiser – to aid in my escape when and if the shit finally hit the fan.
Moving around the house, I quickly collect as many essential items as I can and load them in the back of the four-wheel drive then secure Perry safely on the backseat. I leave everything else behind. My house, my friends, my lo… I shake the thought out of my mind.
I can’t think like that. I can’t ask myself the ‘what ifs’ of this world. I’m doing the right thing. For both of us. I know I’m doing the right thing.
I just wish that painful void in my chest would quit with its incessant aching. It’s making this so much harder.
Chapter 15
Marcus
“There. There. Her house is there,” I direct from the back seat of Theo and Naomi’s car.
“The one with the cornflower blue railings?” Naomi asks.
“Yeah. The one with the veranda.”
A Beautiful Rock Page 13