Tell Me True

by Ally Blake

  April let the back of her head hit the wall with a thunk. “Maybe. Thing is though, she was right.”

  “About?”

  “The guy. It’s not real. Not really. Don’t get me wrong, I like him. A lot. But this is only a time-out for him. I get the feeling I’m like a holiday from real life. With me he gets—”

  “Va-va-voom?”

  April coughed out a laugh, only it ended in a sob. “He tells me I make things simple. Which is probably just Erica’s ‘easy yes’ with chocolate on top. But it feels like more than that.” April held a fist over her heart. “I’m kidding myself, aren’t I?”

  JJ shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Simple can be good. Especially if everything else in his life is complicated.”

  April scratched the side of her nose. Let that thought percolate. She had always been drawn to men she could help. And they had been drawn to her.

  “Kane and I hardly had the most auspicious beginning,” JJ said. “Add Hazel and her meddling to the mix and it’s a wonder we ever got off the ground.” She lifted her hand, looked in wonder at the pretty ring on her finger. “Stranger things have happened.”

  JJ’s attempt to pick April up did the opposite. This wasn’t a beginning. By Finn’s rules, this was the end. That was the thing about fireworks – they made for a lot of noise and excitement and then they were gone.

  And while she’d been so busy worrying about the status of her non-relationship with Finn, she’d truly lost it with Erica. Another brick in her life crumbling a little more.

  Even with JJ’s attempt to pick her up, April felt the foundations of her neat, little life shifting beneath her.

  “You’ll be okay?” JJ asked.

  April opened her eyes and zeroed in on the mixer all sparkling clean on the corner of her small kitchen bench. It was Sunday. Hours worth of cupcake making time left in her day.

  “You bet.”

  Chapter Ten

  Trust Guy to pick a club with pink neon signage and a line halfway around the block for his birthday drinks.

  In a glance, Finn took in the bouncer’s crew cut, the tats under his starched collar, the scar beneath one eye. Ignoring the line, Finn dropped the posh from his accent, gave the guy a handshake he’d learned before he could count and was inside within a minute.

  The doof-doof-doof of the dance club beat filled Finn’s ears. The room pulsed with sparkly twentysomethings, swaying and bouncing with their lithe arms over their heads and their eyes closed as Justin Timberlake told them what to do with their “sexy”. The place was kept a degree too hot, meaning it smelled of sweat and sex. The strobing rainbow lights made his eyes hurt.

  This had never been his scene even when he’d been twentysomething. Dark pubs, cheap beer, some dark corner in which to sit and read – newspapers, economy magazines, text books, anything he could get his hands on – in order to educate himself while his father organised the next score.

  No dark corners for Guy. Through the crowd, Finn spied the birthday boy plus mates laughing over their beers. Big men all, they barely fit on the stools they’d angled away from the bar.

  Ironic that Finn had spent his childhood fighting against the pressure to join a crew. Where he came from it was find a gang or fend for himself. Finn had chosen the latter. And suddenly, while he hadn’t been paying attention, he’d found a crew after all.

  There was Kane; taller than Colossus with the build of an Olympian, he was one half of Hazel’s first matchmaking hit. Deeply invested in shipping – including hands-on work with a cruise liner company – Kane spent much of the year travelling. They’d only met a handful of times but Finn liked the guy a lot.

  Murdoch – a man of few words and profound decency – was a long time cohort of Hazel’s, having dated one of her granddaughters years before. Even though the relationship had ended tragically, Murdoch had looked out for Hazel over the years – like a grouchy prodigal son. It physically pained him to admit to being Hazel’s second matchmaking success, having hooked up with Hazel’s charming IT guru, Serafina.

  Guy – lights sparking off his ginger hair as he danced on his chair – was the socialite of the group. He was also Murdoch’s best mate and silent business partner in his construction company. Guy had no intention of being on Hazel’s hit list. His life’s goal was to retire young, move to an island somewhere, and indulge in all the pleasures – gastronomical, lifestyle, and womanly – that allowed.

  Reaching the boys, Finn slapped Guy on the back. The man jumped up and enveloped him in his version of a man hug. Double back slap. Cheek kiss. Ass grab.

  Finn had him in an arm lock in zero-point-five seconds. The move pure muscle memory. Street smarts came in handy, even on Sydney’s North Shore.

  “Ow-ow-ow!” Guy said, laughing all the while.

  “Let the poor girl go,” Kane said, raising his bottle in salute. “It’s her birthday and all.”

  “Fair enough.” Finn did as asked.

  Guy grinned, even as he rubbed his shoulder. Then clicked his fingers and twirled them in the air as a busboy passed, calling for another round. “So what do you think of the place?”

  “Too loud,” Murdoch grumbled.

  “Pretty crowded,” Kane said.

  “Come on, Finn,” Guy said, hands outstretched, “unlike these two – balls held captive by their womenfolk – you have to agree that this place has all the pretty girls.”

  Finn glanced around. Caught the eyes of a few of the more voracious inhabitants of the urban jungle who were eyeing off their table and the abundance of testosterone thereupon.

  Nothing in him stirred. Nothing in him flared. For there was no ingenuousness in their eyes.

  The night before had been meant as a kind of cleansing. A way to get April out of his head. And while April had seemed perfectly happy to leave – she’d tried several times in fact, until he’d dragged her back to bed, or the shower, or simply taken her against the nearest wall – being with her had moved her from his head to his bloodstream. She’d become like a pulse. Only now it beat inside of him.

  Frowning, Finn grabbed a beer from the fresh tray before it even hit the table and said, “All the pretty girls. Every single one.”

  Happy, in a way only Guy could be, Guy took his seat, and the men proceeded to shoot the shit.

  Later, when Guy went to the little boys’ room and Murdoch found a dark corner to call his girl, Kane and Finn held up the bar.

  “How’s life on the high seas?” Finn asked.

  “Wind in your hair, sun on your face, putting your life in the hands of Greek philosophers, taking it on faith that you won’t topple off the edge of the earth. It’s primal. It’s bliss. So much I asked my girl to marry me. It’s why we’re here. My non-party girl wants an engagement party. Go figure.”

  “So another one bites the dust.”

  “Happily, mate. Stupefyingly happily.”

  “Told the others yet?”

  Kane shook his head. “Was keeping it close to the chest for a bit. Keeping it mine.”

  Finn’s mantra. “Guy’ll probably cry, you know. His menfolk dropping like flies.”

  “Here’s hoping. But lucky for him you don’t look like tripping over that particular hurdle anytime soon.”

  Finn shook his head. Knew it to be an absolute. Thought of a certain redhead all the same. “Consider it my birthday gift.”

  Kane lifted his bottle in salute. Finn did the same.

  Then Kane glanced over his shoulder. Guy was still AWOL and Murdoch deep in blissful conversation. When Kane turned back, his face was serious.

  “How are things with you.”

  “About the same.”

  “Look, I didn’t say anything at the time because it was a lot to take in, but I hope you know if you ever feel the need to get out of town in a hurry, you can book a suite on me. Anytime.”

  Finn’s throat tightened.

  The last time he’d seen Kane the latter had been on a layover. Finn had literally bumped into Kane afte
r a meeting with his lawyers downtown. A half hour earlier, he’d been given a copy of the first letter stating that with Finn’s help Cillian could be back on the streets within sixty days.

  Finn must have looked how he’d felt – like he’d been hit with a Mack truck. Kane had dragged him off for a drink and listened in that soulful way of his as Finn had given him the bare bones of the situation.

  His father had served nearly fifteen years for armed robbery and aggravated assault. There was a fair chance he would be getting out soon. Finn was ambivalent.

  He’d left out the fact that Cillian had been high on meth. Armed to the teeth. That he’d stabbed his older son in the shoulder when he’d refused to join the score and had dragged his younger son out of school to go in his stead, pumping the kid full of whatever nerve-burning shit he’d had on hand. That everything that could have gone wrong had. And with his father behind bars seventeen-year-old Finn had been tasked with burying his little brother.

  That drink had been around a month ago. Meaning it was less than a month till his father’s parole eligibility date.

  “Got another letter a couple of days ago.”

  “Any different from the last?”

  Finn toyed with his beer bottle, twirling it between his fingers. “They’re still at me to put in a submission of familial support.”

  “You going to do it?”

  “I told them no.”

  Kane nodded. “So that’s that.”

  “If they’re shit lawyers.”

  “What’s the stationery like?”

  Finn laughed. “Cheap and cheerful.”

  “Then you might be off the hook.”

  “I might.”

  Kane took a swig. Looked out over the crowd. “You told the boys any of this?”

  Finn shook his head. “You know how it is. Keeping it close to the chest. Keeping it mine.”

  “They have access to a lot of concrete, if you’re in need of any.” Kane said it with a grin.

  As if Finn’s father hadn’t run in circles where that kind of thing wasn’t a joke.

  “Not my style.”

  “Mmm.” Kane caught his eye. Held it. “How about Frank? He might be able to help. Grease some wheels. Slow others. The man has connections.”

  As Frank’s closest confidante, Finn knew that better than anyone. Frank had trusted Finn with every piece, every corner of his empire. Every secret, every near disaster, every by tooth and nail success. Every birthday. Every Christmas. Ever New Year since he’d been brought into the fold.

  And he was on the verge of repaying that trust with a midnight flee.

  “Can’t go there. Whole point is to keep him, and Hazel – everyone – as far away from my father as humanly possible.”

  Just thinking about it, Finn felt time contracting. Every moment he spent with these good people might be his last. The ache of it settled inside of him like a hot rock.

  And once again his thoughts went to April. The only time he seemed able to exist without the constant thrum of dread, was when he was with her. She gave him moments out of time. She gave him time to breathe.

  But time would soon run out. And there was nothing she or anyone could do about that.

  “If that means denying him my support, so be it. If it means moving to Timbuktu so be it.”

  “Yeah, I know that impulse. Even tried it once. Bounced around the far corners of the earth for a while. Only thing the bouncing did was send me back battered and bruised.” Kane rubbed at his bum knee. “That what you want? To disappear? Leave all this behind?”

  “Wouldn’t be my first choice.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  A question he was getting a lot lately. “I want to stick my fingers in my ears and shout la-la-la till it all goes away.”

  “Mature.”

  “Yeah.” Finn looked out over the seething crowd.

  They looked so happy, so wild and free. Some probably were. Others would be sporting fake IDs. More mixed up in situations beyond their control.

  “Funny how as a kid all you want to do is grow up.”

  “Then one day you climb a tree and your back goes out.”

  Finn winced. “You?”

  Kane grinned. “Nah. Was trying to sound empathetic. I’m in better shape than ever. In fact, I climbed a tree in Vanuatu just last week to collect some coconuts for my woman. She was ever so appreciative.”

  Finn glanced at his watch. “When did you say you had to be back at sea?”

  Kane laughed as Guy retuned, settling onto his stool.

  “What did I miss?” Guy asked. When he reached for his drink Finn saw the backs of both hands had girls’ names and numbers on them.

  “Our good man here needs a break,” Kane said. “I’m trying to convince him to come cruising.”

  “Are you crazy?” Guy asked. “Our man Finn is like catnip to the older woman. Hazel actually turned up on a worksite the other day to ask what his hobbies are, if he’s seeing anyone, what his future plans are.”

  Finn sat forward. “You’re kidding.”

  “And you want to throw him in with a shipful of Hazels? He’d be eaten alive.”

  Guy and Kane piped up at the same time, “What a way to go.”

  As the laughter died down, Murdoch settled onto his stool, looking far less grumpy than he had ten minutes earlier. In fact, the guy looked practically beatific.

  “What did I miss?”

  Guy rolled his eyes, patience not a strong point. He ordered another round then took out his phone for his hourly “weather check”. Guy code for checking his investment portfolio – the “hobby” that meant he could probably buy them all ten times over.

  “Put down your phone, birthday girl,” Kane said. “Time for a toast.”

  The men each grabbed a drink.

  Murdoch began, his expression serious even as he said, “To you, old friend. May your skirt chasing days never end. It’s so utterly entertaining for the rest of us.”

  “Thanks. I think,” Guy said.

  “Ditto on chasing your dreams,” Kane added. “Shallow as they may be.”

  Guy shook his head.

  “To fart jokes, summers that never end, and climbing trees.” A little buzzed, Finn lifted his drink.

  Kane clinked.

  Even Murdoch cracked a smile at that one and clinked along with them.

  Guy looked from one to the other, eyes wide, brow furrowed. “Seriously? That’s it? I need new friends.”

  Nevertheless, they drank, and talked, and laughed till the bar closed hours later.

  And as Finn’s town car took him home, the music and talk a faint buzz still ringing in his ears, he looped back and forth through a steady stream of consciousness.

  He’d thought becoming a ghost would be easier this time because he had money. He had means. Because his street smarts had been boosted by his larger world view.

  But the last time he’d gone out on his own he’d already been alone. No family, no friends, no good memories – he couldn’t have left his past behind fast enough.

  Becoming a ghost would be easier and yet the hardest thing he ever did.

  Because this time he’d be leaving behind a life. A life rich with respect, with friendships, with good memories, with purpose. He still kept to himself – old habits died hard. But he didn’t have to be alone if he didn’t want to be. There were people who’d miss him. People who cared.

  Like the inevitable turning of a clock, his thoughts circled back to April. The woman who’d suddenly, somehow, taken ownership of one of those rich layers of his life, all on her own.

  Was she at home? Was she alone? How would she take him turning up her doorstep? He knew the way. He had an excuse – the contract for her apartment sale and its accompanying box of goodies would have to be returned to her soon.

  She’d let him in. Readily. He’d never met anyone as willing to let their feelings show as her. Part of him wanted to teach her how to temper her sincerity, how to protect he
rself from those who might make her pay for it. But mostly he revelled in it. In her. For all the hiding he’d done in his life, April – with her wide open heart – was an elixir, a balm, a relief.

  “Change of plan,” he said to the driver, who eased off on the accelerator.

  “Sir?”

  Finn opened his mouth to give over April’s address, but he stopped himself. Just in time. Knowing, even as he’d thought it, it wasn’t the smart move. More knots to unravel if a difficult decision had to be made. Especially if Hazel was getting closer to the truth.

  But only once he’d stopped himself did he notice how fast his heartbeat. How much his skin prickled. As if his conscience and his gut just had battled without him even knowing it.

  “Just keep going. Same as before.”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver said, heading off into the sparkling Sydney darkness towards Finn’s big, empty apartment.

  “Well, girls, this is a first,” Kay Swanson said, her perfect French-manicured nails digging into the white linen napkin as she swished it onto her lap. “The Swanson sisters – all grown up and living together.”

  April sat with her elegant mother on one side, Erica on the other, slumped in her chair, thumb flicking over her phone. She’d not come home the night before but had obviously showered and changed. Meaning she probably had clothes, and toothbrushes, stashed all over town. Funny that while April was so desperate to settle she’d hired help to make it happen, while Erica was doing her best to avoid it at all costs.

  “False alarm,” Erica said.

  “But on the phone—”

  “April kicked me out of her apartment. So the universe is as it should be.”

  “Oh,” Kay said, sparking right up.

  She liked to put people into neat, understandable boxes. Her daughters included. It was her way of exerting control over chaos. She also lied to herself better than anyone April had ever met.

  “I didn’t kick you out,” April said. “I just needed”—not to hear your voice for a while—“a moment. My place is your place. As long as you need it.”

  Erica shot her a saccharine smile.

  There were times April wondered if moving cities, countries, planets might not be the healthiest option for her. With her mother’s controlling confidence, Erica’s constant smackdowns, and her father’s lengthening absence from their lives, they hardly made for the most soft and squishy family unit. So what was she hanging around for?