‘But Scarlett would have said something?’
‘She doesn’t remember. Blocked it out or something. The guy tried to have me done for assault. Said I went at him unprovoked. But the sergeant helped me. Now I’m afraid my history of violence will make people think I always come out swinging in defence of my sister. So your brother’s accusation will stick, and I won’t get off lightly, not with the Chapmans wanting blood.’
‘But if Hayden wakes up soon he won’t want to admit what he was doing there, or why you fought. He might say it was an accident.’
‘He might,’ Rhett agrees in a way that says he thinks the opposite. ‘That would solve your little moral dilemma nicely.’
‘I was thinking about you.’
He cocks an eyebrow. ‘Not worrying about poor little Sean? You know, the one who actually threw the punch?’
‘He’s my brother.’
‘He’s an idiot who had too much to drink and put his friend in hospital. After queuing up to sexually assault a girl who thought she was meeting a guy who liked her.’
I want to argue, but I know he’s right. I saw Scarlett’s expression when she walked into the dance. Her disappointment was a reflection of mine—she’d been stood up by someone she thought cared. But I can’t let him paint my brother as the villain. ‘Sean would never have let things get that far.’
‘Hayden is in a coma. Your brother punched him in the face, and then lied and said I did it. You’re not going to convince me he’s simply misunderstood.’
‘He’s under a lot of pressure.’ Mum’s excuses for Sean’s surliness fall easily from my lips. Her reasons why he’s grumpy and on edge all the time. ‘You’re not the only one with something to lose. Football is his one shot at a future.’
‘Excuse me if I’m not concerned that he might get kicked off the football team. He’s got it easy. My family depends on me.’
My teeth grind at his arrogance. ‘You don’t know anything about our situation. All you know is our address. You don’t like it when people judge you on yours.’
He has the grace to duck his head. But not for long. ‘Then leave. Go home to your beautiful house and your happy family and leave me the fuck alone.’
‘Are you saying you don’t need my help?’
‘What I don’t need is you slumming it here to appease your conscience before you go home and decide you really can’t screw over your brother after all, but let’s all admire what a good person you are for considering it.’
He takes a step towards me and I back up at the anger in his eyes.
‘I—’
‘Don’t try to fool me. We both know you’ll keep your mouth shut. Sean will go free and you’ll let Hayden get away with what he tried to do. He’s dating your best friend. Have you even told her what he was about to do to my sister? I didn’t think so.’
I collapse onto the old table. Back where I started. I hold my head in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees.
Is that what I’m doing? Using Rhett to make myself feel better? Blaming Scarlett so I don’t have to blame Hayden, and therefore Sean?
I want to deny it but the righteous indignation doesn’t come. It’s way too close to the truth.
And he’s not done yet. ‘You will drive away today convinced that my sister’s a slut and was asking for it and that I’m a violent criminal, just like you suspected all along. It fits, it’s easy, and it means you won’t have to upset your family or friends.’
‘It’s not easy.’ He’s right, but I don’t want to believe him.
He’s beside me again, but the anger of before has gone. ‘It can be. You said it yourself, you owe me nothing.’
But he’s not the only one involved.
Can I live with another secret? Can I let someone else take the fall for my brother’s monumental mistake just because it will make my life easier?
Do I want to be the person Rhett is describing?
‘I don’t want to be that person,’ I whisper.
I look up. We’re close now and we’re both humming with emotion and awareness.
His dark gaze locks on mine and there’s nothing I can do but sway towards him. It doesn’t matter that it’s crazy, or that I hardly know him. My body acts without asking my brain for permission.
Sitting beside Rhett is like standing on the edge of the tallest cliff. I teeter, drawn ever closer. My belly wobbles and I’m dizzy in the same way that heights make me feel, but this terror is something else entirely.
There is nothing safe about Rhett Barker.
His fingertip brushes my cheek. So gentle is his touch, I could pass it off as the product of my overactive imagination except that it makes my breath catch and my thoughts tangle. All that’s left is him. His dark eyes, and his lips that look at once rough and soft. What would they feel like?
His kiss could never be nothing.
I know it even as I swallow and his gaze slips down to my throat. I’m exposed beneath his gaze, like he’s a vampire. If this was a movie, I’d be screaming at the stupid girl to run, but now I’m here, I want nothing more than to bare my skin for his touch. His teeth. His hand cups my cheek. He lifts my head as he lowers his.
Kiss me.
He’s closer. Hesitating. Giving me every chance to say something. Anything to stop this madness.
Please kiss me.
If he kisses me I will forget all the reasons I shouldn’t kiss him. The million reasons.
Jonny.
‘I have a boyfriend.’
His eyes close. Jaw tightens. ‘That’s right. Mr Perfect to go with Little Miss Perfect’s perfect life.’
I don’t argue with his description this time. I’ve done enough. When I stand, he doesn’t try to stop me. Nor when I walk away. Without looking back, but sure he’s not watching me, I pick my way through the tiny, rundown house, hoping not to bump into Scarlett.
He never wanted me here in the first place.
CHAPTER
8
Rhett
When I find Scarlett, she’s on her bed in the room we shared for so many years. It was three weeks before our eleventh birthday when I walked in and interrupted her dealing with women’s stuff. I dragged my mattress onto the back porch that same afternoon and I’ve slept on the fold-up bed out there ever since.
Back then the room reeked of old socks and the football boots I’d dump by the door. Now it’s all Scarlett. The musky scent she swipes from Ma’s drawer and the body spray that’s all she can afford.
An old pink sheet she sewed into a curtain in a fit of making-my-room-beautiful a year ago hangs from two nails, and the late afternoon sun casts a sickly glow over the room. It makes the red in her hair shine where it’s spread across her pillow. Her face is buried and she doesn’t respond to my soft knock on the open door. Or when I clear my throat.
She’s not asleep. Her body is too still. Full of hard lines and tension, from her square shoulders to her crossed ankles.
‘What was all that about at the hospital?’ I ask loudly. When she doesn’t answer, I lean back against the door-frame. ‘You might as well answer. I’m not leaving.’
She rolls over and glares. The black rings around her eyes show that the waterworks in Callie’s car were real, even if the drama was typically over the top. ‘Go away.’
‘Not until you tell me what you’re playing at. Thanks to you, I had to play host to the Ice Princess for half an hour.’
‘And I bet you loved that, didn’t you?’
Actually it was thirty-seven minutes, but I don’t want her to know I counted every one. And not in a hope-it’s-over-soon way. If I could have thought of a way to keep talking to Callie forever, I would have. Which is even more irritating than the fact I counted, because she’s not my type. I like girls, a lot, but I stick to my own kind. A girl like Callie needs more time than I have.
And that’s ignoring the fact that her little brother is about to completely mess up my life.
But her skin … I’ve never touched
anything so soft. There’s a butterfly on the arm of her glasses. Not a real one, but a tiny silver engraving. A whimsical choice when in every other way she seems so serious and logical. And it isn’t like she advertises every inch of displayable skin like her friend Bree does, but she hints. The fit of her jeans, the dip of her neckline. And those glimpses are enough to make me want to see more.
‘Hello?’ Scarlett waves her arms. ‘Are you with me?’
I cross my arms and hope the heat in my cheeks doesn’t show in this light. Scarlett would be unbearable if she knew where my thoughts had wandered.
‘What was with you going to the hospital?’ I ask again.
‘I thought seeing Bree there by his side would stop me missing Hayden. Stop me hoping he’s going to wake up and want me.’
I sit next to her and put my arm loosely across her shoulders. ‘He’s not worth it.’
‘Maybe. And maybe I’m starting to realise that. Maybe I thought Bree should know the truth about the guy she’s keeping vigil over.’
I wince. ‘That worked well.’
‘I didn’t say it was a good idea.’
‘And luring Callie here?’
‘I thought you could maybe convince her to tell the truth.’
‘What, you thought if she came back here I could charm her into it?’ I don’t try to hide my scepticism.
Scarlett chews on her bottom lip. ‘I saw the way you looked at her. I didn’t think it would be a hardship.’
‘Shows how much you know.’ The lie spills from my tongue.
So she’s nicer than I thought. And up close she looks incredible, without make-up or anything. And there’s the way she pauses a beat after I speak, like she’s really digesting what I have to say. Like I matter. But it’s irrelevant because I’m not going to do anything about it.
‘She has a boyfriend,’ I point out.
Scarlett sits up straighter like I just declared undying love. ‘That could change.’
‘Don’t you think I have more important things to worry about?’
She gives me the same look she gives the little kid down the road when he’s eating crayons. ‘Girls will do anything for a guy they’re crushing on.’
I refrain from pointing out that she’s living proof of that. ‘And?’
She sighs. ‘And Callie will do the right thing by you if you give her a good enough reason. A romantic reason,’ she adds, in case I’m too stupid to join the dots.
The idea is something straight out of a Scarlett fairytale. ‘Just because you think the way Hayden treated you is normal, doesn’t mean Callie will do something just because a guy asks her.’
‘Don’t assume you understand how I feel about Hayden. He made me feel like I was someone for a change, and then he got hurt before I could figure out what the hell he was playing at last night.’
‘Well, Callie has a damn good reason to keep her mouth shut. It’s her brother she’d be turning in.’
‘She wouldn’t have come here if she didn’t have some doubts about the whole thing.’ Scarlett frowns. ‘I’ve seen her walking her dog along the beach. She’s the type who actually picks up after it, if you know what I mean. She’s a good person.’ There’s a wistfulness in Scarlett’s voice as she gazes at the glimpse of orange sky through the gap in the curtain.
Even though I’m still angry at her, I say, ‘You’re a good person.’
Her head jerks around. ‘You’re supposed to say that, you’re my brother.’
‘You’re too good for the likes of Hayden Chapman.’ I can’t miss the chance to remind her. I don’t know whether it’s something to do with what Ma’s ex did to her, or just watching Ma pine after one loser guy after another, but Scarlett’s pretty screwed up when it comes to dating. She couldn’t have picked a worse candidate for happily ever after than Hayden Chapman, with his money and his power and his disgust for all things this side of the creek. And then I decide to tell her, because it should be obvious but I really don’t think she knows.
‘You deserve someone who respects you. Last night, the way he treated you, it’s not okay.’ I swallow. ‘And you should know this but what Ma’s ex did. It wasn’t your fault either.’
She’s silent for a long second. Maybe I’ve pushed her too far. I’m about to go when she speaks. ‘He’s different when he’s with me. When we’re alone …’ She sighs. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘I understand he thinks you’re a sex object. He told everyone at school you slept with him last summer.’
‘Guys talk.’
‘Some do. But they don’t have to.’ While I try to avoid Hayden’s crowd around school, it’s impossible to avoid the stories. ‘He doesn’t respect you.’
She shakes her head. ‘I love—loved him.’
‘He has a girlfriend.’
‘He promised he’d leave her. But he thinks she might go crazy if he doesn’t let her down gently. I thought he planned to do it last night.’
‘Do you still think that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Scarlett …’ I can’t disguise my frustration.
‘You’ll see.’ She bites her lip. ‘When he wakes up.’
‘Coma or not, he’s a dickhead. You can’t let him treat you like shit. Think about it.’
I might as well be talking to the peeling wallpaper over her shoulder. Her eyes are glazed in thought and I hope, more than ever with the prospect of going away hanging over me, that something I said got through.
Back in the living area I bump into Ma. I feared I’d have to push her to get ready for work but she’s on her way out the door. ‘I’ll be home late. Look after your sister.’
‘Yes, Ma. You’ve been sleeping a lot lately. Are you okay?’
She brushes an imaginary speck off her skirt. ‘Just tired.’
She shouldn’t be. It’s not as though she’s been working for the last month. I don’t argue though. The most important thing is that she gets to work on time. ‘Will you be all right on the bus?’
She chuckles. ‘Who’s the parent here?’
As if I haven’t asked myself that question every time another rent bill was left for me to pay. ‘You are, Ma. I worry about you, that’s all.’
She gives my hand a squeeze. ‘You’re a good boy.’ She pauses. ‘Your dad would be so proud.’
‘Like I care what he thinks.’
Her brows come together. ‘Don’t be like that. He’s your father.’
I tug my hand free and head towards the front door. The churning in my gut needs an outlet and I don’t want to raise my voice. ‘You’d better get going. You don’t want to miss your bus.’
She doesn’t move. ‘He’s up for parole soon.’
I jerk around.
The caged animal within me fights to get free. I breathe hard and count to five so that by the time I speak my voice is level. ‘You’ve been in touch with him?’
‘Email at the library.’ There’s hope in her wide eyes, and a hint of fear. Of me or him, I don’t want to know. Probably both. Even if I attend a lifetime of anger management counselling, nothing could erase her memory of finding me standing over her unconscious boyfriend with bloody fists.
‘Why?’
She blinks. ‘He’s your father.’
‘So? He hasn’t shown any interest in acting like one for years.’ I turn away without waiting for her answer. I need to get out of there.
Picking up the guitar I told Callie wasn’t mine might have been an option earlier, but hearing about Dad changes everything. I need a bigger distraction. Music helps, but it’s not my only outlet.
A moment later I’m out on the street. The door slams behind me, cutting off Ma’s response. I don’t want to hear his latest sob story. He’s been out twice before and ended up in the same place both times. And each time she’s made excuses for him. It’s not hard to see where Scarlett gets her weakness for a dickhead with a smooth line.
Frustration claws at my belly as I take the shortcut through the hole in
the fence behind the old gym. Some of the tightness in my chest eases as I round the corner of the tin building. It’s open.
I slow on approach.
Javier always says there’s no place for a red haze in the ring. Work out the anger but always be in control.
Inside, it’s muggy and familiar, with a comforting smell of sweat, liniment and leather. Here I can fight safely, within strict rules, to tame the animal within. It’s dim. A single globe on a cord hangs high over the empty boxing ring in the middle of what’s little more than a shed.
Thump, thump-thump. Thump, thump-thump.
The rhythm of fists on leather matches the drumming in my chest and echoes in the open expanse. Javier is working the bag in the corner. Bare-chested and wearing the jeans he had on earlier, sweat pours off his skin as he leans into the bag. His head is lowered, fists flying. Intent on the red leather and the demons in his head, he doesn’t hear me come in.
Or so I think.
He looks up with a grin when I’m a few feet away. ‘Something on your mind?’
‘The ring?’ I don’t want to talk about it and the bag isn’t enough for me today.
He laughs. Wipes the sweat from his face with an old towel and nods.
I don’t bother stripping off, just grab the helmet and gloves and tie them on. Javier finishes off my right hand and then I’m in the ring and ready to go. My blood pounds through my veins, mixes with the adrenaline of anticipation.
I prowl the old surface, itching to get started. Run my gloves along the ropes while I wait for Javier to finish getting ready.
No gear, no fight. He’s strict on the rules. After we met at counselling, he offered me a job and a place to deal with my anger. I’ll always be grateful for that. But right now I’m going to try to hit him with everything I have.
Anything to silence the echo of Ma’s hopeful announcement.
Parole.
It looms like a semi-trailer heading the wrong way down a one-way road. Callie’s unwillingness to tell the truth just became a fucking huge problem. If I’m away at juvie and Dad’s out, he’ll move back in and take what little Ma and Scarlett have left. Then when he goes—as he always does—he’ll leave them broken-hearted. Again. And I won’t be there to stop him.
What I Saw Page 9