I couldn’t do it though. I couldn’t cope with everything I was facing. How could I win Alyssa back when all we did was hurt each other? Even if we got past that, how could we ever have a future with the obstacles in our way? Her family hated me, she’d admitted as much.
They would never forgive me.
I would never forgive me.
Twisting in the seat, I pulled my legs up to my chest, ignoring the biting pain as the steering wheel dug in to my shins, and the stabbing that shot through my side. Putting my head on my knees, I tried to breathe but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. I couldn’t stop the thoughts that were consuming me for long enough to draw oxygen down into my lungs. A vicious cycle of heartbreak and doubt.
Wrapped around myself, one thing was certain: I was going to die. And a fucking car park in the city was going to be the cause.
Fumbling with the door, I reached the handle and yanked it open. I half-climbed, half-fell from the car and landed on all fours on the concrete. Struggling for air, I pushed the door shut to remove it from my path and crawled to the front of the car. Squeezing myself between the front bumper and the concrete wall, I tried to hide from the prying eyes of passers-by. Once hidden, I sat staring at the blank concrete and leaned against the car, dropping my head back to rest against the bumper as I tried to get my breathing under control.
What the fuck am I doing?
Hours later, that may have only been minutes or even seconds, I felt my breath begin to return, bringing my sanity along with it. I was able to remind myself that despite the odds, Alyssa was willing to give it another go. She was willing to try to forgive me, even if her family couldn’t accept that. That was what mattered.
Standing, I drew one more shaky breath, steeling my nerves and my resolve. I would find my father and talk with him, find out what the hell Alyssa and Mum were hiding. Then I would use that knowledge, and all of the information at my disposal, to work hard until I earned Alyssa’s forgiveness. Until I deserved it.
Without glancing back or around me, I locked the car and headed toward the elevator. One more reminder of the night it had all fallen apart might have been enough to kill me. Not for the first time, I wished I could turn back time and make it all better. Do it the right way the first time.
Inside the elevator, my eyes scanned the levels and my finger hovered over the buttons. An idea formed. Maybe I could make it better. I couldn’t actually turn back time, but maybe I could do the next best thing.
Making up my mind, I pushed the button for the hotel lobby rather than the shopping centre entrance below. I gulped nervously and said a silent prayer that my plan would work.
As the elevator doors opened, I planted a smile on my face and walked up to the concierge. I saw recognition light up his features immediately. The look was enough to leave me hoping it would be like shooting fish.
An hour later, my plan was set into motion and I didn’t even have to organise a fucking thing. It was likely the hotel manager would have eaten his own shit if I’d asked him to. Sometimes the whole celebrity thing wasn’t so bad, especially when you could call on favours from fans by greasing the right wheels with a few autographs and a couple of happy-snaps.
After heading back down to the food court in the shopping centre beneath the Suncrest Hotel, I had a quick bite to eat. While I ate, I thought of the week I had planned out for Alyssa. If it wasn’t the best fucking week of her life, something was wrong. I grinned stupidly as I imagined the look on her face. I very nearly turned straight around and headed back to her house to see her. But then I remembered I’d actually come to the city with a purpose.
I cleared my table and walked out into the Queen Street Mall. I knew the route to Dad’s work by heart and my feet trailed along the familiar path while my mind wandered elsewhere.
As I passed Post Office Square and approached the building that housed his bank, my eyes scanned the small cafe across the road. I couldn’t say what had initially drawn my attention, but once I looked there, I couldn’t turn away. My hands clenched into tight fists at my side.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but it was there plain as day.
In that moment, I saw everything.
I saw him.
Then I saw her.
And then I saw red.
CHAPTER NINE: COLLAPSE
“WHAT THE FUCK do you think you’re doing?” The words left my lips as soon as my brain had taken in the details of the scene.
Even as I spoke, I tried to work out which part of the scene I found most disturbing. The fact that my father had his hand in another woman’s lap, the fact that she was feeding him and he was pulling all sorts of ridiculous faces as he licked the fork clean, or the fact they were doing it out in public, without any shame. As if it was just a normal relationship, and not a filthy fucking affair.
Despite all of that horrid detail, there was one thing more disturbing.
Much, much more disturbing.
And that was the fact that the girl was Hayley Bliss. One of the members of the blonde brigade who’d been in my year at school.
As if signalled in on cue, a tonne of questions and doubt smashed into my brain. Was Hayley the first and only, or just the latest in a string of lies? Had there been others like her over the years? Countless others? Had all of the late nights and the weekends away when I was in school been because of affairs? My stomach turned at the thought, and I felt sorry for Mum, stuck at home doing all the housework while Dad was off shoving his dick into a scrag.
At the sound of my shouting, Dad looked up. I wasn’t sure whether it was because he recognised my voice though, because almost everyone in the cafe raised their head at the noise.
I tuned out everything around me except for him and her. My sole focus was on my father and his floozy. I didn’t even watch for cars as I stormed across the busy intersection.
Dad leapt to his feet, knocking over his chair in the process. It clattered loudly behind him. “Declan? What . . . what are you doing here?” He looked around between me and that tramp, as if willing himself to understand. Or maybe he was just trying to come up with some bullshit excuse.
I didn’t stop my charge until I was in his face. In the same motion, I raised my hand and fisted his shirt collar. Using it as leverage, I lifted him to my level. It hurt like a sonofabitch but I didn’t give a shit. He needed to pay. The look of terror on his face was evident. For years, he’d always managed to maintain a certain level of authority, even as my height towered over his. It was only during the last week that his power had waned. I couldn’t say at exactly what point I’d lost my respect for him, but it was definitely sometime between his words about Alyssa and the sight of him with her.
I’d been raised believing that marriage was for life, and that vows were sacred—special. That you made promises and kept them for life. That was part of the reason I’d been so fucking terrified of my feelings for Alyssa. To discover that the very person who taught me that—the same man who’d claimed he had to give up his dreams to get married—was off on dates with a whore half his age . . .
“What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On?” My face was right in his as I spat the words at him.
When I finally tore my eyes away from him, I turned to look at Hayley. She was still sitting at the table with a look that rested halfway between fear and amusement.
Before I could do any serious damage to him or myself, I pushed Dad out of my way in disgust.
When I turned on her, Hayley gave a nervous giggle and said, “Um, hi, Declan. I, ah, didn’t expect to see you here. Although Robbie had told me you were back in town.”
Robbie? What the fuck. I took a step toward the table and she shrank back in shock. Her eyes widened as she speedily moved her chair backward, as if getting ready to run at any second.
My head swung back and forth between her and my dad, not trusting myself to talk. I knew that in my current mood a stream of invective would be the most conversation I was capable of. Not that they didn’t de
serve it. Both Dad and Hayley kept their eyes on me. Both wary as if I were a hungry predator preparing to strike.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the red haze still filled my vision.
“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?” I shouted, kicking out and knocking over the table in front of Hayley. She screamed and leapt out of the way as the contents went flying, spraying coffee or chocolate or something all over the ground and on some of the surrounding patrons, who all fled as quickly as they were able.
“Calm down, son,” my father said, placing his hand on my shoulder. Knocking his arm off roughly with my elbow, I twisted out of his grip.
“Don’t touch me!” I spat at him.
His eyes darted from side to side, making me partly aware of the gathering crowd. It wasn’t enough to stop me though. I couldn’t give a fuck about anyone watching, I just wanted answers.
At the same time, I really didn’t want to know.
“Does Mum know?” I asked through gritted teeth. My heart pounded against my ribcage so hard I was surprised that it wasn’t audible to everyone nearby.
“Can’t we go somewhere a bit more discreet to discuss this?” Dad asked, glancing around once again.
“Does Mum know?” The words burst from me as I picked up the nearest chair and hurled it at the wall. Screams from the bystanders filled the air, but I couldn’t care less. Anger burned through me and I needed to release it. At least it was only a chair and not Dad’s face. For now.
Dad hung his head. “She knows.”
“Does she fucking know it’s with a slut who’s three months younger than me?” I growled. “I mean, what the fuck?” I picked up another chair and threw it to punctuate my sentence. Someone behind me put their hand on my shoulder.
“Sir,” a calm but authoritative female voice said from behind me. I shook my shoulder free of the loose hold.
Dad squared up in front of me. “Hayley and I are in love, Declan. In a way I’ve never truly felt about your mother.”
A different hand rested on my shoulder, once again trying to turn my attention away from my father. A male spoke this time, “Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to—”
Ignoring whatever it was he wanted to say to me, I shook free of the hold. Despite voices murmuring around me, words like damage, police, and leave, my focus remained pinned to Dad. “Are you fucking kidding me? You are screwing Hayley, and you have the gall to call it love? She’s the town fucking bicycle for fuck’s sake. Worse, she’s younger than me—your fucking son! All of that and you have the nerve to tell me you’re in love?”
I was dangerously close to losing control, but was surprised when Dad did first. I saw his fist the second before it connected with my jaw. The impact hurt, but I’d had worse. Morgan and I had swung at each other often enough over the years to leave me more than ready for a fight with my middle-aged father.
I retaliated—hard.
Grabbing at the side of his head, I caught a fistful of his hair and yanked his head backward. My other fist flew at his face with all the power I could muster. At the last second, he yanked himself away from my hold, but my fist still connected in a glancing blow.
Without waiting to recover, I threw myself at him in a tangle of limbs. My chest protested the movement, but I couldn’t stop myself. He landed a blow along my left side, and the breath rushed out of me as I gave a strangled cry. It didn’t stop me though. It only gave me motivation to hit harder, faster.
Fuck him!
My fists smashed into his body again and again until I felt myself being pulled off him. I struggled against the arms that had me, kicking out and knocking over more tables. Everything was tinged in red and I was beyond all reasoning.
All I saw was the object of my fury in sharp relief. Everything else was a blur. I heard murmurs of conversations, and screaming, and the sun reflected off the metal tables over and over, flashing in my eyes each time.
Before I could process what was happening, I was being dragged back across the road. My father stepped forward and embraced Hayley fucking Bliss. As if he was fucking comforting her. At the sight, I went to launch myself across the road at him again. How dare he do that to Mum? How could he be so brazen and uncaring as to flaunt his fucked-up relationship in public?
Before I could make my point again, two meathead security guards from the building that housed the investment offices of the bank, including Dad’s office, stepped in front of me. They were obviously the ones who’d dragged me away. Without me realising it, I’d been backed into a corner by them. I could have tried to fight my way out, but I didn’t really like my chances. Instead, I turned toward the wall and butted my head against it, focusing on the pain of the brick biting into my forehead to take the mind off my burning rage, aching side, and twisting stomach.
I kicked off from the wall to face the security guards again. They stared impassively at me, as if daring me to try to run. I knew they had no legal power to hold me against my will, but they were also big enough to beat the shit out of me if I tried to make a break for it. While I was cornered, a police car turned up and two officers climbed out. Dad stepped straight up to them and shook their hand. Ever in control.
Ever the slimy bastard, more like.
I turned back toward the wall and let loose a roar of primal anger before pounding my fist against the brick, just imagining it as my father’s face. I pulled my fist back and shook my hand—the action had fucking hurt and only made me madder.
I spun around again when I heard his voice barking out instructions to the guards. They turned and left, and suddenly I was face-to-face with the man who had been my hero while I was growing up.
The man I now despised.
Without even thinking about it, my fingers curled into fists at my sides. My knuckles protested. They were swollen and sore and wouldn’t form a fist properly, but it would be enough to do some damage.
“I’ve smoothed things over with the cafe owner,” he said. “He’s agreed not to press charges if the damage is paid for.”
“Like I give a shit,” I spat at him. “How could you do it?”
“I’ve told you, son—”
I cut him off. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that! You need to be a fucking father before you get to call me son.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose—a gesture I’d actually learned from him. “Declan, go home and calm down. I’ll talk to you about this later.”
“Like fuck you will.” I wanted to smack his smarmy face again, but instead I thought of Phoebe. What sort of father would I be if I kept it going? If I wasn’t the bigger man by walking away?
I took a deep breath and stared him down. Shifting my gaze behind him, I saw Hayley cowering near the building entrance. When I looked between them it occurred to me that I had never hated two people more in all my life.
“You are fucking dead to me,” I spat as I shoved him away. “Stay away from me. Stay away from Alyssa. And stay the fuck away from Mum. You don’t deserve her. You don’t deserve any of us.”
Before he had a chance to respond—and before I had a chance to lose the sliver of control I had on my temper—I turned and stalked away. Even then, it was only thoughts of Alyssa and Phoebe that stopped me from turning around and kicking his arse. Well, thoughts of them and the fact that I knew the two boofhead security guards would be there waiting if I did.
I may have been angry but I wasn’t fucking suicidal.
I made it back to Post Office Square before my lungs threatened to collapse on me. Anger still coursed through me and I had no way of releasing it. My fingers began to shake as I felt my breath leave me entirely. While my legs felt weak beneath me, my brain began to muddle. Needing to get out, get away, I picked up my pace and headed back in the general direction of the Barina.
By the time I hit the end of the Queen Street Mall, I was practically running. While I raced toward freedom, I drew quick laboured pants through my teeth.
I
needed . . .
I fucking didn’t know what I needed.
I just needed to get away. I needed to forget. I needed to wipe the image of my father’s intimate interactions with Hayley fucking Bliss out of my mind. Questions I really didn’t want the answers to raced through my mind on an endless track. Why was she in the city? Did she work with him? How long had he been fucking her? Did it go back to high school?
A shudder ran down the length of my spine.
I took the stairs into the Suncrest Shopping Centre two at a time before screeching to a halt at the bottom when I saw a sign.
A way to cope.
The only way I knew how.
The temptation of the pub—the sweet siren’s call—was too great and I couldn’t resist. Hiding my bloodied hand behind my back, I nodded briefly to the bouncer. I didn’t want him to stop me, or ask me questions, because questions led to thoughts and I didn’t want to think about Dad, or Hayley, or anything really.
I wanted to bring on oblivion.
Oblivion and ignorance.
When I reached the bar, I didn’t hesitate. The order for a triple shot of Jim Beam was on my lips the instant I had the bartender’s attention. Past experience had told me that a couple of those would get me sufficiently blotto as fast as possible.
The bartender slapped the drink down in front of me and I tossed him a twenty. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to clear the images of him and her from my head.
I reached for the glass and raised it to my lips, ready to wipe it all away.
As I did, a new picture entered my mind.
Phoebe.
Phoebe and Alyssa, smiling and waving.
The look of disappointment in Alyssa’s eyes as I’d told her about driving while I was under the influence.
I can’t do this!
The glass slipped from between my fingers before I could comprehend what was happening. I opened my eyes just in time to see it hit the ground—crashing against the metal footrest that ran the length of the bar and spilling amber liquid everywhere.
Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series) Page 48