by Allie Little
“It’s never ever used, this place,” he says, transferring the duffle and smaller backpack from his shoulder to the filthy floor.
I glance around the dirty interior. “How do you know that?”
“This is where I run. Back over there on the Angophora track. Been running it for years.”
The rusted corrugated walls and a cold, stone floor add to the chilliness inside the shack. “There’s nowhere inside for a fire,” I shiver out, teeth chattering.
Riley removes the backpack from my shoulders and lowers it to the floor. He pulls me into him, the smell of his sweater a familiar comfort. “For a moment back there in the forest, I questioned the wisdom of what we’re doing,” Riley says, his chin pressing gently upon the top of my head. “But now we’re here, I think we can make the best of it for a couple of days.” He draws back to see my face. “What do you think?”
I haul in another lungful of the woodsy, fresh scent, knitted into the weave of his sweater. “I think we can make do.”
Glancing around, a couple of partially burnt candles lie in the dusty corner. An old timber chair sits proudly inside the door, weathered, as if the last time it was occupied an ancient hirsute fisherman had gazed out upon the sea, probing it for signs of fish and the turn of currents. A single mattress lies threadbare, pushed hard against the back wall, possibly contributing to holding the corrugated side upright.
“I brought a blanket and a sleeping bag,” Riley says, unwrapping his arms to unpack the duffle. “I realise it’s not flash, but we’re safe here. We can stay here until we work out what to do.”
He tucks me inside the blanket then wraps his arms around me for added warmth. “I know it’s cold. Let’s get through tonight and perhaps tomorrow we can build a fire. If he has followed us, we don’t want smoke signals leading him straight to us.”
Right. No smoke signals.
“Of course. Very sensible.” Lucky one of us was thinking clearly. I plopped myself down onto the mattress.
“And now,” he digs through the bag to extricate his lighter, igniting two candles he’d placed upright on the floor. “Dinner. You in?”
“Hit me with your culinary skills, honey.”
He pulls out two tins of baked beans, dragging off the lids by the ring-pulls. With a grin I haven’t seen in a while, he hands me a spoon. “Couldn’t serve this up at Swimmer, but I guess it’ll have to do.”
I jab my spoon into the gooey beans. “It’ll be the best meal I’ve ever tasted,” I reassure, grateful for any food at all to placate my growling stomach.
Riley devours the beans in a couple of rapid mouthfuls, then pulls out an apple and bites out a large chunk. He shuffles across on the mattress and nudges me with one elbow. “So … home sweet home?”
“Home,” I laugh, shovelling in more cold baked beans, noticing the twinkle in his amber eyes.
“Wherever you are babe, if I’m with you, that’s home to me.” He throws me a tired wink and leans back against his duffle, closing his contented eyes.
23
Riley
Morning sunlight trickles like molasses through cracks in the iron walls. Without the opaque beauty of night, the hut seems harsher. Colder. Less like home.
Grace is nestled on my chest with her dark hair splayed across my shirt, breathing the tranquil breath of the blissfully ignorant. Sleep had been a relief, not that I’d got much during the night. The roll and slap of surf upon sand, colliding with the sounds of racketing wildlife right outside, was hardly a recipe for rest. Plus, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I consider lighting a fire, hoping we’d shaken Daniel off the evening before. The cold winter sunshine hits the side of the shack but fails to heat my bones in the post-dawn chill. Extricating one arm from beneath Grace, I kiss her softly, once, twice on the lips, before covering her with the sleeping bag and sneaking outside.
Soon enough I’ve found enough dead timber and kindling to light a decent fire. At the cheerful crackle of flames, my brain begins working overtime, formulating some semblance of a plan. Getting to the shack was phase one, and anything beyond that was pretty damn hazy.
We would need more food. We would need more than the blanket and sleeping bag I’d brought for warmth, and somewhere along the line I was pretty damn sure we’d need help. Of the police kind.
When I’d woken from a piecemeal sleep, I’d begun patching together a weak plan. Lie low for a few days, throw him off the scent, organise transport. Options were limited. There was Jack and his boat. Sam … maybe, although common sense screamed not to involve her. Gemma would do anything for Grace, I was sure of that. As would Stan, if push came to shove. Ultimately, I needed to find a safe space and insist on alerting the authorities. And this time I wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I’d spent hours last night dredging over how he’d found us. How we’d got here. What had happened in their relationship to bring such injurious energy to the fore. But for all intents and purposes, Grace had been a child when she’d married him. For love, yes, but also for security. Losing her parents so young had been a damaging blow, perhaps one she’d never recovered from emotionally. And as she matured, Gran was unable to completely fill the void, especially when it came to the desires of romantic love. And I too, had previously shied away from romance. But with Grace, it was as if the planets aligned and the stretch of the universe continued to expand, if only to encompass my emotion for her. Emotion I’d been blindsided by.
I shake myself from my thoughts. There were no answers for the self-imposed internal interrogations, only further questions raised. Ones that could be answered later. The only thing of consequence right now was how to deal with him. Daniel.
The shack door creaks open. Grace pops her head out and gives a little shiver. “Ooh, it’s cold out here.”
“Good morning to you too, sweetness.”
She grins. “Not too worried about smoke signals this morning?”
“Thought I’d take a chance. Can’t have you freezing to death.”
Grace glances at the vista spread out to the horizon, at the twinkling blue of the sea. “Stunning place for a hideout.”
I hold out an arm. “Could be worse. Come here.”
She wraps the khaki jacket around her body, raises the fluffy hood and huddles next to me beside the fire.
“Did you sleep?” she asks, peeking out from beneath the hood.
“Like a log,” I lie, pulling her against me.
She narrows her eyes. “Really?”
“Well, maybe not like a log. Maybe more like a catnapping owl, with one eye permanently open.”
Grace shakes her head and giggles. “Not good, Riley. You need to get some sleep.”
“I’ll sleep when this is over. Until then…”
A worried expression moves across her face. “You can’t do that, Riley. You need to rest. You don’t think you can rest here? It’s very isolated.”
“I won’t rest anywhere until this is over.”
She huffs out her frustration. “So, what are we doing? Staying here? We need to face this, Riley.”
“And your suggestion would be…?”
She closes her eyes as if to block the reality. “I don’t know. There must be somewhere safe for us to go.”
“We can’t run forever, you just said so yourself. We both have lives. You’re right, we do need to face this. I’ve told you my thoughts on that. We should go to the police. In the absence of that, we’re on our own. I can fix this for you, but I can’t do it alone.”
She flinches, pushing back the hood and running both hands through her hair. Pulling at it as if my words sting. She looks at me hollowly. “I’m not sure I can do that. It wouldn’t be right. He was my husband.”
I raise my eyes incredulously. “Really? After everything he’s put you through? Put us through? You couldn’t do it to him?”
She averts her eyes, nodding meekly.
“Tell me why, Grace. He’s threatening to come and get you. To take y
ou away from me. You’re hurting, I can see it plain as day. Why won’t you deal with it?”
She pushes away and gets to her feet. At first she doesn’t look at me, then faces me front on and boldly meets my eyes. “Because once I loved him with all of my heart. I loved him. Really loved him. And a little part of my heart still does.”
The statement is like a barrage of bullets. She closes her eyes and grips the branch of a nearby tree, steadying herself. Her knuckles grow white with tension.
I turn away. Of course she did. She’d loved him. I knew that. But to hear her say she still reserved a piece of her heart for him? In the midst of all this?
“I’m going for a walk,” she states, making for the beach. “I need some air.”
“Like there’s a lack of it out here.”
She scowls as I follow. “Wait,” I say, grabbing her arm. “Don’t go. It’s not safe.”
“I don’t care, Riley. I don’t care anymore.”
Her words burn a hole through the chambers of my heart. I turn and leave, pacing across the sand, questioning everything. Why am I here? Why am I doing this? And the simple answer is because I love her. And now I wonder if she even loves me back.
“Riley,” she calls. “Now you’re going?”
I turn to see her pale face, anguished amongst the trees. “So, it’s okay for you to leave, but not me?”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you, Riley. You. And everything you’ve done for me. Words can’t describe the man you are. But it’s true that a tiny piece of my heart will always love him. The old him. The man he used to be. He was my world until the pain he caused ate away at my soul. And when I say that a piece of me loves him, it’s only the happy memories I love. The times long ago when things were perfect and we were happy. But that was a lifetime ago, Riley. You’ve loved before, haven’t you?”
Who knew words could cut like knives? I close my eyes against the painful slice. “Not like this. Not like now.” I look her dead in the eyes. “Don’t ever say you’ve reserved a piece of your heart for that bastard. I don’t want to know.”
Her eyes meet the sand. “I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is to hurt you.” She runs her arms around me and holds me tight. The dread was repulsive. The mere thought of a future without her literally killed me.
I push away the sickening thought. That somehow, he might get to her. Wheedle his way back into her heart. Convince her. Take her away. If only a fraction of her love for him remained, could he build on it, shape it and fashion back the feeling?
I drag her closer against me, inhaling the scent of her hair. She cuddles into me, then wriggles back with a brief cough.
“Um, Riley,” she starts, pulling back from my sweater. “Loosen the hug, honey. I can’t breathe.”
24
Grace
The fire burns beside the shack, illuminating the corrugated sides with sharp flashes of light. Riley had been silent since daybreak, pacing over the sand. A nasty pang of guilt stabbed at me when I thought of our argument. Despite everything, I’d had some happy times with Dan, and those memories still sang in unison with my heart, even if the tune had become a fading echo. There were moments we were so in love it was hard to imagine life without him. But those moments had gone, blinked gradually out of existence.
“Riley, please. Talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”
“Shut you out?” he calls from the beach. “How could I shut you out? My head is consumed with how to get us out of this mess. But I don’t want you worrying about a thing. I’m going to fix this. For both of us.”
I thought about what Riley wanted, which was to turn Daniel in to the police. For me to set aside those mile-high barriers and forget duty and love and three years of marriage. To step into truth. My truth. Because truth was, I’d left the marriage emotionally long before I’d absconded in the middle of the night. Physically gone. Emotionally absent. I knew with every ounce of my being that if the police couldn’t help me things would only get worse once Daniel discovered I’d betrayed him so viciously.
But perhaps involving the police really was the only way. My wounds were healing. I was stronger now than I’d been months ago, although I’d had a serious case of denial. And I had to stop living like this. I would be a victim no longer. With Riley by my side, I could face it. I would re-write my self-concept and walk away from something I’d firmly believed was true love.
Riley saunters over and captures my face in his hands. He brushes away a few wayward strands of hair fluttering in the breeze. He looks at me with all the love in the world reflected in his eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking, babe. I might have a plan, but I need to know where you’re at.”
I exhale slowly. “I’m thinking that you’re right. That you’ve always been right. It’s just taken me a while to get here.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Did I hear you correctly? You’re finally admitting that I’m always right, sweetness?” he says with a sardonic smirk.
I can’t help but chuckle, even at a time like this. “You’re too much, Riley Atherton. I mean I think I’m ready.”
“For what?”
“Oh, for goodness sake! To go to the police. I think I’ve made peace with that.”
“You think? I need stronger vocabulary, sweetness. If we do this and things turn to hell, I don’t want you second guessing yourself. Or me.”
I look at him resolutely, staring him straight in the eyes. “I’m ready.”
He places his large palms over my forearms and holds them gently. “So, I have an idea.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Well, let’s hear it.”
“Gemma’s brother.”
“He’s an ex-cop. What about him?”
“Exactly, he’s an ex-cop. Rather than doing this formally, let’s get him on board and see if he can help. If he can’t, then we haul arse to the police.”
It was true. Gem’s brother Brady had retired from the force several years back, leaving with post-traumatic stress to search for simplicity in his life. As this was a case of stalking and intimidation, surely he’d be up for it. It was the first glimmer of a possible resolution since this started. Gemma had suggested talking to him early on, but I hadn’t been ready.
“Call Gem. Get his number.”
Riley nods, fiddling in his pocket for his phone. “Last I heard, he’d become a private investigator.”
A rustle in the undergrowth fringing the beach has us meerkatting our heads toward the sound. A giant goanna peeks its head out, then heads for the nearest eucalypt, making its way steadily up the smooth trunk. Instinctively I jump back, telling myself the enormous creature is in fact, quite harmless.
Riley lets out a chuckle. “Not really one for the wildlife, hey?”
“Look here, you’re not exactly Bear Grylls yourself. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”
“Okay, okay, point taken.” He punches his index finger at the screen of his phone a couple of times to send a text message, then pops it back in his pocket. Almost immediately the phone chirps and he reaches for it. “Gem’s given us Brady’s number but she’s not happy. She wants to know where we are. Maybe you should give her a call while I call Brady?”
“What are you going to tell him?” It wasn’t like I wanted Daniel put away or anything, I just wanted it to stop. The messages yesterday had been off. Terrifyingly so. It was like he’d cracked, and I’d caused that pain by leaving him. It was my fault. Once I’d gone he’d fallen away, leaving the crazy, dark version of the good man I’d once known. How could that even happen?
Remember the dark times, Grace. Don’t forget. Daniel left a long time ago, remember? Abandoning you to that guy? He’d already gone.
It was easy to focus on the happy times, especially as time passed. But I only had to look at the menacing threats he was making to be reminded I was doing the right thing. I wasn’t going to live in fear any more. My rapidly beating heart would slow, and I could focus on my future. O
ne I hoped would include Riley as a permanent fixture. The man was firmly entrenched beneath my skin.
“The truth is what I’ll tell him. That your ex-husband’s unhinged, has been stalking you and is now making threats to abduct you. Geez, it sounds like something out of a Harrison Ford movie.”
“Don’t over-dramatize this, Riley.” I shake my head at him. “It’s nothing like that.”
Riley stares me straight in the eyes, a stern edge fixed upon his unsmiling face. “You need to take this seriously. You’re way too close to it. As a partially objective observer, and not knowing the man, I can tell you right now, the guy is serious. And you need to take it seriously too,” he repeats forcefully.
A breath catches sharply, mutely aware of the gravity of the situation. My phone breaks the moment with a shrill ring, making me jump. “It’s Gem. Be back soon.”
I head for the forest, finding a warm, sunny spot on a lichen-covered branch. I hit the receive button.
“Gracie? Where the hell are you?” Gemma demands. “Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
“Calm down, honey. I’m with Riley and we’re safely holed up in a tin shack at Wreck Beach.”
“You’re what?” She pauses for dramatic effect. “Safely holed up in a tin shack? Is that really necessary?”
I fill Gem in on the details, hearing a few disquieted gasps on the end of the line. “I see why you’ve finally agreed to get help. Jesus Grace, you should’ve got Brady involved when I suggested it months ago.”
“I know, Gem. It’s just … I don’t know. It didn’t seem serious enough.”
“Well, it seems serious enough now. For God’s sake, you’re holed up in a tin shack in the middle of nowhere, waiting. For what? For him to find you? Forget you? You need to do something pro-active, not sit around just waiting for it to end.”
“I know. But you know Daniel. You’ve known him for years. It’s not as if he was ever dangerous. Possessive and jealous, yes. Overly controlling. But dangerous? Never. It makes me think he’s had a breakdown or something.”