Decline (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #1)

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Decline (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #1) Page 10

by Michelle Irwin


  There was something more, I knew it. Even with the years that had gone since I’d last spent any time with her, I could read her expressions like a fucking book. I was about to ask her to clarify, but the cabin crew interrupted with a meal for each of us. I’d missed the last one because I was asleep, so I was famished. Even airline food was acceptable in my empty-stomached state.

  By the time I’d finished talking to the flight attendant, Alyssa had slipped her headphones back on and the conversation was over again for a while. While I ate my meal, I thought about everything that had happened over the last day. How much information I had learned, but how much more she still seemed to be hiding. Then again, it wasn’t like she owed me anything at all.

  Except her company for a drink like she promised.

  When I’d finished, I glanced over at Alyssa just in case I could get her attention, but she’d started an in-flight movie. Instead of talking to her, I watched as she smiled and laughed at what was on the screen. She really was as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so now she’d grown into her curves. I thought about all the shit that had happened between the night in the hotel and the last time I saw her. The night we’d sat side-by-side at our picnic table as I’d said goodbye. I hadn’t allowed any room for negotiation and didn’t let her say anything that might convince me to stay. After I’d shattered her heart, she slapped me and stalked off into the night.

  I hadn’t seen her again.

  Until Queensland Raceway. Until the dude I thought must have been fucking her, but was apparently just a friend. Would the last five races have ended differently if I’d known that piece of information? I dismissed the thought as soon as it came into my mind. That would mean I felt more for her than I allowed myself to, and that couldn’t be right.

  “What are you thinking about?” Alyssa’s voice was soft beside me. I didn’t even realise her movie had finished, or maybe she’d just grown bored with it.

  I didn’t see any point in lying to her. She’d be able to see through me as clearly as I could her. “You.”

  “Why?”

  “I was just thinking about all the fucking mistakes that drove us apart.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I thought Josh attacked me because you asked him to. I never even realised he thought . . .” I couldn’t even say the words. How could he ever think I’d rape her? “I just thought it was your way of telling me you didn’t want me anymore.”

  “But I told you after that that I did want you,” she said. The smiles and happiness she’d worn when she’d been watching the movie were completely wiped away. “Repeatedly. Even after you moved to Sydney, I tried to call you, but you never answered the phone yourself and no one seemed to pass on my messages.” Her voice sounded close to tears.

  “They passed them on,” I whispered, leaning forward and putting my head in my hands. “I’d just shut down the part of myself that still cared about you. Maybe it was callous, but I couldn’t be there in Sydney and still be in love with you. It would have torn me in two.”

  I closed my eyes as I felt her hand rubbing a small circle on my back. My tears were dangerously close again. I bit the inside of my cheek to try to hold them off.

  Just as I was relaxing with her touch, the plane dropped and my stomach lurched.

  Fuck. What was that?

  The plane plummeted and jumped.

  Fuck!

  I reached for the armrests, clawing the material as I tried to grip harder. My teeth clenched together as the plane bounced again.

  “Fuck!”

  The beginnings of a panic attack crashed over me. My palms felt itchy and sweaty and I couldn’t breathe. The plane felt suddenly too claustrophobic and tight as it fell through the air again before leaping back up. I leant back in the chair, squeezing my eyes shut as I started to hyperventilate. I tried to open up my lungs and force oxygen in, I tried all the techniques my quack had given me for this situation, but nothing did anything. It wasn’t working. Nothing was working. Nothing would work.

  Even though I recognised the start of a panic spiral, there was nothing I could do to stop it. My teeth clenched tighter, practically grinding the surface away, as I tried to no avail to breathe through wave after wave of blinding panic that threatened my hold on sanity.

  “Declan?” Alyssa asked softly. “Are you all right? It’s just turbulence, and it’s stopped now.”

  “Talk to me,” I whispered to Alyssa through my laboured breaths.

  “About what?” Her voice was full of concern. The sound of her worry made my panic intensify. “What do you need?”

  “Talk to me about anything, just say anything. I need . . . I need a distraction.” The last words came out as a high-pitched squeak. I was getting dizzy and I couldn’t breathe.

  I’d done a good job of hiding the full force of my panic attacks from everyone else. Only my ex-psychiatrist knew about them. Never in my wildest nightmares would I have thought I’d have to suffer through one on a plane. In a public place no less; where gossip and lies easily started and could spread like wildfire. And with Alyssa at my side. When I could, I started to repeat my mantra to myself silently in my mind, I can get through this, I’ve had one before and I made it through then. I can get through this, I’ve had one before and I made it through then.

  “I went to Queensland Raceway to see you,” Alyssa’s voice cut through my mantra and her words left me stunned.

  “What?” I turned toward her, my internal monologue forgotten.

  “I’ve been to every race of yours I could get to.”

  I wasn’t sure if her admission was easing my attack or not. It was definitely distracting, but I couldn’t decide if it helped me—and my decision to leave her all those years ago—knowing that.

  “Why?” I asked. After a moment, I realised it was definitely helping. My breathing had started to come a little easier. My heart slowed almost back to a normal speed.

  “Because you were right. When you said I never thought of it as a real career, I mean. I never thought you could make a living from it, and I never went to a single race when we were together. When you left, I kind of wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

  I shook my head. “But that explains one meeting. Why did you keep going?”

  She laughed a little and her cheeks grew a little pink. “I . . . well, I found I actually enjoyed the thrill of being there at the track. Especially with Flynn. He was full of information and was always patient with me while teaching me the rules. Now we go on friend-dates whenever you come to town.” While she was talking, her eyes had taken a faraway look, as if she was reliving some memory. I wished I could see what it was. In that moment, I felt every single day of the years I’d shut her out of my life. After a moment, she chuckled and ducked her head. “Actually, he was surprised when he found out I used to date you, and a touch jealous.”

  “Jealous of you or me?”

  “Of me.” Her chuckle grew into genuine laughter. It fucking killed me that her smile was so genuine, real, and carefree when she was talking about that other fucker. “After the first meet, I got grilled for three hours on what it was like to kiss you and whether your body was really as smoking hot as it looks when you’re walking around with your race suit on.”

  Before I could stop myself, I was laughing in response to her honesty. “I’m not sure whether to be offended or flattered.”

  “Oh, you should be flattered. He’s quite the catch.”

  I laughed again.

  “Better?” she asked.

  For a moment, I wondered what she meant, and then I recalled the reason for her admission and the conversation that followed. My panic attack. She’d certainly helped to sweep it aside. “Much. Thanks.”

  She put her arm around me and guided me closer to her side. I rested my forehead on her shoulder and I breathed deeply. The proximity worked even better than her talking had. I raised my gaze to meet hers and was pulled toward her lips once more, but this time I resisted
it.

  Leaning back out of her embrace before the siren call of her pink pout grew too strong, I rested my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. A moment later, she pushed headphones onto my head and then my ears were full of the calming sounds of classical music. I closed my eyes as her fingertips traced gentle lines over my face. I allowed the music, and Alyssa’s touch, to calm me completely.

  I didn’t even realise that another hour had passed until I opened my eyes again. I was more relaxed than I had been in, well, ever. I pulled off the headphones and then smiled at her.

  “Thank you. I’m all better now.”

  “What was that?”

  I shrugged, not really wanting to make a big deal out of my weakness. If Danny or his boys found out about the attacks, they might never put me in a car again. “Nothing really. Just a panic attack.” I tried to make a mental note of how easy they were to dismiss when I wasn’t in the grips of one.

  “Are they the reason you’ve been crashing out?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ve never had one while driving. They usually only hit at night when I can’t sleep.” Or when I wake from dreams of you. I sighed.

  “You suffer from insomnia?”

  I nodded. “For . . . quite a while now.” I’d stopped myself from saying four years before it was too late.

  She seemed to consider this information for a while. “Is that why you have a problem with gratuitous drug use?”

  “Maybe. Like I said, it’s easy to grow reliant on those pills.” I shrugged, still unwilling to get into the full nitty-gritty of that story with her. We fell into silence, but it was at least a slightly more comfortable silence than the last time.

  A few minutes later, Alyssa spoke again.

  “It was actually really nice running into you, Dec,” Alyssa said. Her words reminded me that we only had about half an hour left before the plane was due to land. She chuckled. “And those are words I never thought I’d say.”

  “I still owe you that drink.” I wasn’t ready to give up my time with her just yet.

  “It’ll be like six in the morning when we land. Why don’t we catch up tomorrow after we’re both rested?”

  I nodded, but then I had a thought. “Where are you staying?”

  “I was just going to find a place somewhere in the airport to shower and maybe crash for a few hours. My hotel room isn’t ready until later this afternoon. There wasn’t much point booking anything when the plane landed so early.”

  “I have free unlimited use of the apartment I mentioned earlier. Why don’t you have a shower and catch some sleep there?”

  “I’m not really sure that’s such a good idea,” she said with a hesitant edge to her voice.

  “Come stay. Please?” I begged, pouting a little to get my point across. “I promise I’ll keep as far away as you want me to. I just want to know that you’ll be safe. I wouldn’t feel right letting you wander off into the night in a foreign country with nowhere to stay.”

  She pursed her lips together in thought for a moment before nodding. “Okay, but only if we can change the drink to breakfast.”

  “Why don’t we start with breakfast and see where it takes us?” I offered her my panty-dropping smile and turned on the charm.

  When she nodded, a worried grimace crossed her features instead of a smile. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I was happy to celebrate the small win I’d had.

  Finally the plane began its descent, and I couldn’t help thinking that Danny had been right to send me on this trip. It may just change my life after all.

  CHAPTER TEN: NO COMPLICATIONS

  ONCE WE’D BOTH arranged our things, I carefully pulled both my and Alyssa’s bags down from the overhead and slung them onto my shoulders. Even though I knew she was more than capable of carrying her own, there was no way I was going to risk her darting off on me and disappearing into the crowd like she had after the first flight. Not when I felt so close to a breakthrough on my crashing issue. It wasn’t sorted yet, I was sure of that much. Deep down though, a certainty grew that more time with Alyssa was going to be the easiest way to find a solution. She was the cause after all. I just needed to pinpoint why.

  When we headed into the terminal, I managed to convince her to stop at the duty-free shops for a few supplies. When she said she didn’t want to buy any alcohol, I used both of our quotas to grab some premium grog for my stay. We walked side-by-side as we went through the motions of customs and baggage collections. Our conversation wasn’t exactly awkward, but it was weighted down in ways it had never been when we were kids.

  A little less than an hour later, we were free of the bustling Heathrow Airport. We found our way to the taxi ranks and waited in line for our turn. I gave the driver the address of Danny’s apartment in Kensington. Alyssa was silent through it all, but she never stopped chewing her lip. It felt like she had something she wanted to tell me, but wasn’t sure how to start. I decided if it was really important, she would let me know when she was ready. All I hoped was that she wasn’t regretting her choice to agree to spend a few hours in the apartment with me.

  On the drive to the address Danny had given me, I grew anxious. I hadn’t asked anything about it really, assuming it was going to be just me for the length of my stay. Well, me and any titbits I brought home to satisfy my urges. Either way, I hadn’t considered needing more than one bed. Panic coursed through me that it would be a tiny studio with only a bed and not much else.

  Maybe it was a bachelor pad style apartment filled with all the latest tricks for snaring the ladies. The nearer we got, the keener my anxiety became over inviting Alyssa to stay without having seen the space first. What if it was some sort of semi-brothel sex den? Would she believe it wasn’t mine? Or maybe it would be a shithole with rats and cockroaches breeding on every surface. Truthfully, I couldn’t see Danny owning anything that even remotely matched either of those descriptions and I definitely couldn’t see him giving me the keys if he did. Still, the panic was impossible to shake.

  Here goes nothing, I thought as the taxi pulled up in front of the building. The facade of the building gave me some hope that it wouldn’t be a hovel inside. It was so old school it was almost art. I didn’t know one era from another, but it reminded me of my childhood, of hours spent watching Paddington Bear with Alyssa at my side. It was so different to what I was used to—the hustle and bustle of modern Sydney—that I could almost have believed that I’d stepped back in time. I gave the driver my credit card for payment, letting him run it while I unloaded our bags.

  My heart pounded in my chest with each step as I led Alyssa to the front door. I tentatively turned the key and took one last deep breath before I pushed open the door. It turned out all my fears were unwarranted. She followed me with her suitcase as I carried our carry-on bags and my own suitcase up a short flight of stairs into the large open-plan living, dining and kitchen area. Although the apartment was long and narrow, the colour choices and furnishings gave it a dramatic feeling of light and space, even in the dark grey of the early morning.

  Despite the historic facade, the interior was very modern. It looked decked out with every luxury you’d want on holiday.

  The kitchen was an expanse of stainless steel, including a giant island in the middle. Monstrous ovens and equipment filled every cavity. Looking at the array of knobs and dials, I decided I was best leaving them alone. At least the ice maker on the fridge looked easy enough to use. That fact alone meant that I would at least have ice and water for the duration of my stay. Takeout would have to suffice for the rest of my needs. At least nothing would be too different from home there.

  Opposite the kitchen, in the only enclosed section of the area, was a staircase which I assumed must lead up to the bedrooms and bathroom.

  The dining area led off from the kitchen, to the left of the main living space. A large oak dining table, with pews running down each side for seats, rested in the middle. The colour scheme of the whole apartment seemed to be based
on a natural palette, a mix of dark hardwood floors, sea grass carpets, and eggshell walls. In the living area, a chocolate-brown leather sofa and two plush beige linen armchairs clustered around the fireplace. Three large windows behind the sofa gave panoramic views of the cobblestone street below. To the right of the windows was a wood and glass door which appeared to lead out onto a terrace.

  Dropping the luggage I held, I walked slowly through the open space, absorbing all the little details. On top of the fireplace, flush-mounted and blending almost seamlessly into the wall, was a huge flat-screen TV. An antique roll-top desk sat in one corner of the room; the top was open so I could see there was a desktop computer and phone tucked inside.

  The wall behind the armchairs was lined with open bookshelves, filled to bursting with old leather-bound books, lending the space just a touch of the old-world charm that covered the exterior. I ran my fingers along the spines, wondering whether they held some old treasures or were just there for decoration.

  “Wow!” Alyssa murmured from the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” I replied, turning to look at the area from just in front of the fireplace. Between the money I was on, and the team I belonged to, I was used to a touch of opulence. My own house was a multi-million-dollar McMansion that I’d probably be repaying until the day I retired, but it had nothing on the apartment. With a perfect blend of old-world charm and modern technology, the place took my breath away. Looking at Alyssa as she spun a small circle, no doubt to take in all the details like I had, I figured she thought the same thing. In that moment, it felt like I’d come home at last. Who knew I had to travel halfway around the world to find a place I’d feel so instantly comfortable?

  “Whose place is this?” Alyssa asked, running her fingers along the stainless steel of the kitchen island.

  “Danny Sinclair’s,” I replied. “He’s the one who made me take this trip.”

  “Why?”

 

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