And there was the sting in the fucking tail. I could just picture myself sitting around my house in my underwear and socks, alone on Christmas fucking day like a pathetic loser even though it should have been my first with my family. “Oh, okay.”
“I still need to figure out all the details for the move, but seeing as though your house is pretty much furnished, I’ll get rid of anything that I don’t have a sentimental attachment to, and then hire a truck or something to bring down the rest.”
“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t really listening to her. Instead, I was imagining what my solo Christmas would be like. It was supposed to be my first as a father, and now it looked like it’d be the first where I would be alone. Before Alyssa, it would have been an excuse to get wasted and have my fill of lonely women desperate for companionship. That option was out, but apparently so was spending the time with my family.
“So, when do you think you can get here?”
“Huh?” I’d obviously missed something.
“Well, you are coming up for Christmas, aren’t you?” The way she said it, it was like it was a given.
“Didn’t you say you’re staying with your parents?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So, I hardly think I’m your dad’s idea of a great Christmas guest.”
She chuckled. “Dec, it’ll only be for a few days. Besides, he’s got to get used to you before long anyway.”
“I guess. You really want me to come up?”
“Do you think you’re the only one who misses what we have when we’re together?”
The sorrow in her voice made me long to be at her side, to smooth it away with a kiss. “Of course not.”
“Besides, you said you would. Phoebe has been asking about you already. Wanting me to remind you of your promise.”
It took me a moment to remember what promise. “She remembered that?”
Alyssa chuckled. “She’s like an elephant when it comes to things she wants.”
Even though I was physically sitting in my car in the middle of traffic, my mind was already halfway back to Brisbane. Then it struck me that there was no reason for me not to go. Things were falling into place for the following year already, and there was nothing more I could do to speed it along anyway. There was nothing I needed to be in Sydney for. In fact, some things would be easier from Brisbane. Like my plan for revenge.
“Tell her I’ll be there tomorrow,” I said.
“What?” Her shocked voice echoed through the speaker.
“If it’s okay with you, that is.”
“What?” The surprise had morphed into something a little closer to excitement. “Are you kidding?”
“Why not? I’ve got nothing I need to be here for until after Christmas. And I’ve got every reason in the world to be up there with you two.”
“Are you telling me that you’re going to stay up here for a month?” I wondered whether butterflies were racing through her stomach as she asked the question. It certainly sounded like it.
“If you’ll have me that long.”
“God, Dec, of course. Of course, I will. I know I hesitated when you first asked me to move in with you, but that was only because I was scared. I was so scared that I’d let my hopes rise to the point where I’d never recover from the heartbreak that followed. But, now . . . What can I say, Dec, my hope is so sky-high right now. You’ve raised it there and now it—” She cut herself off. “Sorry, I’m rambling and that probably sounded really pathetic.”
If she could see me, she’d be able to tell from the smirk on my face that her words were anything but pathetic. If she found her words embarrassing though, I didn’t want to linger on them and prolong her pain. “If I leave first thing in the morning, I should be able to make it there by the time you finish work.”
“Okay, Dec.”
“And Lys?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be counting the minutes till then.”
“Me too.”
“Actually, maybe you should keep it from Phoebe for now. We’ll surprise her tomorrow night.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, I think she’d like that. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dec.”
When I got home, there was a parcel sitting on the front doorstep. Bending down, I saw it was from Woman’s Idea. A moment later, I pulled the advance copy of the article from the envelope and read through it to ensure I was happy with the overall portrayal of both Alyssa and me.
I smiled at the photos that accompanied the article. Eden was right; they were fucking hot. The thought even crossed my mind to ring and see if I could get copies of some of them. When I was still in my ProV8, I’d endured many photo shoots, but none had ever made me want copies of the prints before.
Happy with the article, I took it inside and scanned it into my computer. I emailed a copy to Alyssa, and another to Danny. Maybe getting Danny to look it over was brown-nosing, but now that I had a job hanging in the balance again, I would do what I could to keep it. If I had him cast his eyes over the article before I gave it my final approval, he couldn’t argue later that it wasn’t positive enough or caused more problems. Besides, if it took a little bit of arse-kissing to get another step closer to being back behind the wheel of a ProV8, it was worth it.
While I waited for a response from Alyssa and Danny, I slid the copy back into the envelope and went to start packing.
HOURS LATER, nursing a beer that was well on its way to being warm, I tried to quell the heat of the jealousy racing through my veins as I listened to Morgan’s glowing endorsement of the Bahrain track. With no chance of getting back behind the wheel in the foreseeable future, it was extra maddening to hear him wax lyrical about the performance of his car and give a fresh driver’s-eye play-by-play.
It was almost a relief when my phone rang and interrupted the evening. When I saw Alyssa’s number, I thought maybe she was calling to talk about the magazine article, even though she’d already emailed the magazine with a few minor changes.
“Dec, I don’t know if it’s a great idea for you to come up anymore.”
My heart stopped beating and dropped to my stomach. “What?” I could barely find the volume to say the word. Part of me wondered whether there was some chance she’d changed her mind after our conversation. Had something happened to shift what had seemed to be unshakable faith? I moved away from Morgan into my study, because if she really was trying to get me to stay away I wanted to be able to argue my case without him thinking I was pussy-whipped. Or more than he already did at least.
“There’s just . . . some stuff happening, and I think it would be better if you stayed away for a while. Maybe just come up before we need to move.”
“What is it?”
“It’s hard to expl—”
“No, Lys, don’t give me excuses. Tell me what it is, or I’m getting in my fucking car right now and I’ll be on your doorstep before you know it.”
“It’s that pap who was following you around.”
I clenched my fist as I tried to recall whether I’d seen the guy or his white X-Trail that day, but I couldn’t recall that I had. Was it because he was now in Brisbane? “What about him?”
“He was at Emmie’s grave when I took Phoebe there today.” Her voice was quiet, filled with tears that I was sure had been falling since whatever altercation she’d had. “He knows. He knows all about Emmie, and . . . and he said that Emmie’s death would be a great focus for the next article. He—he took photos of Phoebe and me, and I just . . . I’m just glad that Flynn was there. But the guy threatened to make me look like some sort of monster for trying to hide the details. He accused me of lying to you. If you’re here too, it’s only going to give him more ammunition. It’s better if we stay apart, at least for now.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, no, Lys. I’m not going to let them dictate our lives. United front, remember? Like you said. Besides, if he’s there causing you trouble, I want to be the one to shove his fuc
king camera down his throat.”
“This is why I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to be here. He’s trying to goad us. As it is, he got photos of Flynn and me together with Phoebe. I can’t even imagine what will go to print next. It’s only going to make everything you’re facing harder if you’re mixed up in it too.”
“I don’t give a shit, Lys. You and me.”
“But—”
“You and me, Lys. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“And when our article comes out, it’ll prove the truth, okay?”
“You know some people won’t believe it. Darcy isn’t going to back off just because of an article. There will be people who think there’s something going on with Flynn and me. They’ll think I’m some sort of gold-digging liar.”
“All the more reason for me to be up there. Fuck, if it helps I’ll get the paps to photograph me and Flynn together.” The thought wasn’t one I welcomed, but I wasn’t going to live my life running scared from them anymore. I refused.
“What if no one believes the truth though?”
“I don’t give a shit who believes it at first. It just means that we have to prove it. Day by day, we show everyone how fucking happy we are. By being together and being there for each other.”
Alyssa gave a sad little chuckle. “That sounds almost easy.”
“Yeah, well, loving you is easy.”
Her laughter grew. “You think you’re such a sweet-talker, don’t you? Think your mouth can help you get away with anything.”
“Oh, baby, you don’t even know everything my mouth can do.”
“That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.”
“But did it work? Did it make you picture my mouth on your body? My tongue licking your pussy?”
She didn’t respond, which I took as a yes.
“Are you now imagining all the things I could do to you, Lys? Because I sure as fuck am, and it’s making me hard as a fucking stone.”
I heard her swallowing even as her breathing sped up.
“Did you still want me to stay away for another month?”
Once more, she didn’t say anything in response, but it didn’t matter. I knew the answer by the sound of her shallow, needy breaths.
“Or do you want me to come up there and show you the things my mouth can do?”
“Yes.” She breathed the word.
It was issued with such need that it bypassed my ear and went straight to my cock. “Good. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”
After reassuring her again that it would all be okay, I disconnected the call. I headed back into the living room and skulled the last of my beer. I was certain a scowl crossed my lips, and I didn’t say anything to Morgan.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asked, looking genuinely concerned.
A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Maybe.”
After grabbing another beer for each of us out of the carton he’d brought, I opened up. Taking him in as a true confidant, just like I had with Eden, I told him the whole story of Alyssa and me, ending with my desire to pay Darcy, Hayley, Paige, Tillie, and Talia back for their roles in my downfall.
Whatever else happened, I would make them pay.
And Morgan might be the perfect ally in that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: COMING HOME
THE ALARM ON my phone blared.
The high-pitched beeping pierced straight into my skull and pulled me from my dream.
Fuck, how much had I had to drink? I dropped my head back against my pillow and tried to piece together reality from dream.
What a fucking dream too.
It was all about Alyssa. For a half a second, I smiled as I recalled the girl I’d left behind when I’d moved to Sydney. To retain the images of the dream, which had featured her in full, living colour like so many had in the past, I screwed my eyes shut. I was desperate to cling to the memory my mind had offered up of her body.
My hungover brain ticked over with the reasons why it was a bad idea to be thinking about her. For so long, I’d turned to sleeping tablets whenever I’d woken from similar dreams.
Only, this one wasn’t exactly like the others. This one was a dream where we’d been together again. Happy. Where I’d met her on the way to London and followed her to Brisbane after I’d learned of our child. Where I’d lost the job I loved, but was somehow okay with it because I had her.
Where I was travelling to Brisbane to meet her again soon.
In the dark of night, alone and hungover, it seemed too impossible to be true.
Glancing through the darkness, I tried to make out the ceiling with my tired eyes. Tried to work out why my alarm was set for such a stupid-arse time of the morning. Tried to work out how the fuck to get it to shut the fuck up without me having to move a fucking muscle.
The blaring surrounded me, smashing against my skull.
“Fuck off!” I croaked as I threw my pillow at my phone.
When all it did was change the angle the sound was coming from, I finally dragged myself out of bed. As I did, I pressed my lips together. They were dry and my mouth tasted like stale beer. I’d definitely had too much to drink.
What the fuck would Alyssa think if she knew how drunk I’d let myself get?
As soon as the thought struck me, I laughed at the absurdity of thinking it was all just a dream. As if my mind had the imagination needed to dream up Alyssa’s new curves and full chest. The thought of being at her side again by the time I went to bed that night brought a smile to my lips, despite the pounding in my head.
I had a quick shower, which left me feeling halfway human again, and then dressed in something comfortable for a day of driving. When I’d finished, a memory of the previous night struck me, and I chuckled.
Morgan had been too drunk to drive home. When he’d called Eden to come get him, she’d chewed him out for letting himself get to that stage and refused to come. He’d ended up having to stay with me like he had in the past.
I left my room and headed straight for the spare bedroom at the end of the hall, where Ruby had stayed when she’d been there. Morgan’s name was on my lips as I pulled the door open, but he wasn’t in the bed there.
Either he’d passed out where he’d been sitting on my couch, or . . .
The door to Phoebe’s room stood slightly ajar and I pushed it open silently. I had to bite my lip to stop my laughter when I saw Morgan’s tall form draped over Phoebe’s white princess bed. He was lying on his back, with his head dangling off the side and his blonde waves extending in all directions, like he’d just stuck his finger in a socket. One arm was lifted up over the back of the tiara-shaped headboard.
Before I woke him, I pulled out my phone and snapped a handful of images from different angles. You never knew when a little bribery image might come in handy. God knows he had a few of me from over the years.
After I was satisfied I’d got the photos I wanted—and texted one to Eden for good measure—I tried to wake him. Always a hard task after a night on the piss.
“Morning, princess,” I said, kicking his foot.
He groaned and rolled over, dragging his head back onto the bed and drooling on the pillow.
I kicked his other leg. “Fucker, are you seriously going to drool on my little girl’s pillow?”
“Fuck off, squirt, what fucking time is it? The sun’s not even up.”
“It’s five in the morning, and you need to get your arse out of my house because I’ve got a hot date in Brisbane tonight.”
“Can’t drive. Still drunk.”
“Well, at least drag your arse out of bed and get started on some breakfast.”
“Five more minutes.” He buried his head under the pillow.
“Two minutes, or your new nickname at work will be princess.” I wiggled the phone in my hand.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He lifted his head and took in the bed. “Fucker, what happened to the bed?” He gl
anced around with bloodshot eyes. “What happened to the room?”
“It’s Phoebe’s room now.”
“God, it’s worse than I thought. Not only are you pussy-whipped by your pseudo-wife, you’re wrapped around the finger of a little girl too. We need some serious man counselling.”
“Ha ha, now fuck off out of her bed. Your two minutes are up.”
He held up his hand in surrender, but got up.
“You smell like a brewery,” I said. “You should have a shower.”
“Yes, Mum.”
I was already halfway out of the room by the time the words left his mouth. Nothing he could say could bring me down. After all, I was going to Brisbane and when I came back home again, I’d be bringing my family with me.
While Morgan pottered around getting food and coffee, and trying to work out when he might be safe to drive, I packed the stuff I was taking with me into my Prado and wrote a note for Christina explaining I would be away and letting her know how to get in touch if she needed to finish up early. True, I probably shouldn’t have trusted her; for all I knew she could plot to steal all my shit for firing her, but she’d been privy to so much shit over the years that if she were a dishonest person, she probably would have sold a stack of stories to the gossip rags. Call me a sap, but I trusted her.
“You’re not taking the Monaro?” he asked, standing at the door to my garage with a bowl of Cornflakes cradled in one hand.
“I figured we might need to tow something back.”
“You’re leaving your baby here for a month? Alone?”
I shrugged. “She’ll be fine.”
“God, what happened to you, man?”
“I got my priorities straightened out by a three-year-old. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
“Got no immediate plans to hand over my balls to anyone just yet, thank you very much.”
“I’m sure Eden will be thrilled that you said that.”
A look of genuine fear crossed his face. “You wouldn’t tell her.”
“Nah, not yet. I’ll wait until I need something first.” I smacked his shoulder as I passed him to grab some food for the trip.
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