Loyal Love

by Henry, Max

  “What’s the next step, Colt? You’ve made your point,” Willow states. “We need to shut this down.”

  “Let nature run its course,” I say, shrugging on a grey T-shirt. “They’ll have something more interesting to talk about by tomorrow.”

  “Not if this topic gets dragged out to Arcadia with you.”

  I scowl at the phone. “Don’t curse my luck, and it won’t.”

  She sighs down the line while I retrieve a weathered pair of black jeans. The knees are threadbare, the thighs rubbed down to a dark grey colour, much the same as my shirt. If I’m to get muddy with the country brats tonight, I may as well ruin something old and less expensive.

  “I want to come too.”

  “Pardon?” My hands still on the zipper.

  “Out to Arcadia. If things go down tonight, I’d appreciate being there to defend my name myself.”

  “Stay the fuck away, and nobody will suspect you’re involved.”

  “It’s not that simple, Colt.”

  “Yes,” I bite. “It is.” I jerk socks on and thrust my feet into my combat boots. “I have a reputation with the girls at Portside, Willow. I could have learned about this account from any one of them. Why the hell would people draw a connection with you?”

  “Are you sure we haven’t been seen together lately?”

  “You were there yesterday when your entire school poured out the fucking gates and saw me waiting for you, right?” I deadpan.

  “I meant anyone from Riverbourne,” she snaps.

  “It seems a bit late to be having second thoughts about this now, Willow.”

  “I didn’t think it would blow up like this.”

  “Really?”

  She hesitates. “Really.”

  “I’ll call you later. I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “At seven in the morning on a Saturday?” she asks.

  My dick’s been thinking about this since midnight, it seems. “Yeah. At seven in the fucking morning. Bye, Willow.” I smack End before she can get another word in edgeways.

  Greer and I have unfinished business to sort out, and if she’s to attend this damn bonfire brawl with me tonight in the capacity I imagine, then we need to get details tidied away sooner rather than later.

  “Are you gracing us with your presence this morning?” my mother scathes as I step into the kitchen.

  “Us?” There’s no sign of Derek anywhere, but I wouldn’t put it past this twisted woman to have him chained to the damn bed.

  “It’s a turn of phrase, Colt.” She fingers her cup of steaming coffee, clad in her usual satin gown as she leans against the counter. “Would you like one?”

  Is she actually offering to make me a drink? “I would, thanks.”

  Her gown floats behind her as she heads back to the bedroom. “You know where the pods are.”

  Of course. Alicia wouldn’t do anyone a favour unless it benefited her. “Rich of you to make a comment on my rare presence when you’re leaving as usual,” I call after her.

  She re-emerges as I wait on the machine to fill my travel mug. “I was retrieving this.” Her gold-cased phone catches the light when she lifts it for me to see. “I wanted to be sure what I said was accurate.”

  My blood chills. A shot of steaming caffeine would go down a treat right about now.

  Her nail clicks on the screen as she navigates to whatever it is that she needs. “Here we go.” My mother clears her throat. “I was most disturbed last night,” she quotes, “to find my daughter inconsolable over what she believed was a long-forgotten youthful mistake.” Alicia pauses to peer at me over the top of her screen. I calmly screw the lid on my mug. “After much coaxing, I finally managed to have her confide that certain images shared amongst peers were once again circulating the populous. The origins of which appear to be your deviant son. I respectfully request you have a conversation with Colt about his actions and gently remind him the consequences such animosity carries into his future.”

  “Let me guess,” I say on a sigh. “Ingrid?”

  Alicia’s phone hits the counter with a thud. “Libby.”

  Coffee dribbles out my nose with a snort. “Excuse me?” I swipe it away, composing myself.

  “What are you up to, Colt?” She rounds the counter to stand a mere foot away. “What the hell have you done now?” Her anger radiates from her much the same as yesterday’s stale perfume.

  “Home too late to shower, huh?”

  Her hand crosses my cheek faster than I can react. “Don’t you dare.” And so, it begins.

  I touch my fingertips to the smarting flesh and grin. “Wow. This seems really familiar, don’t you think?”

  “It does.” Her eyes dart left and right, searching mine for something she can’t seem to find. “Another child of mine openly disrespecting not only me but our family.” She huffs a bitter laugh. “Do you think that with your father gone, he’s immune to this?”

  For once in her venomous life, she’s found the hot topic. I flinch. “Nobody blames him for my actions.”

  “Don’t they?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “You don’t think they associate our children going off the rails on James’ inability to support his family?”

  “How could they?” I scathe. “All of this has happened under your watch. Not his.”

  “Oh. But I’m just a poor single mother doing her best to cope after such a terrible upheaval,” she taunts, the back of one hand thrown dramatically to her brow as she wanders away. “I’ll ask you again. What the hell have you done?”

  “As the message says.” I gesture to her phone. “I dug up the past.”

  “Why?” Her eyes narrow.

  “Why the fuck not?” I check my pockets for my phone and keys. “Don’t you think it’s a bit rich that they come after me when it’s their kids who wanted to share personal pictures with the world?”

  “Nobody would know, it seems, if you’d kept the lid on it.” She frowns, finally taking in my attire. “Where on earth are you headed looking like that?”

  “To see my father,” I snap. “And that other person you might vaguely remember: a girl called Lacey.” I stride for the door, throwing over my shoulder as I go. “She was your daughter once, same as I used to think of myself as your son.”

  “What the hell does that mean?!”

  I hesitate, framed at the exit. “It means, Mother, that I’ll be back tonight to get my things. Congratulations. You’re on your own now.” I pull a mock pitying expression. “It must be so much easier for that poor woman now that she’s free to start again without those troublesome children.”

  “You little—”

  I don’t catch the end of her tirade; the door slams cutting her off.

  Fuck that felt good.

  TUCK

  “Have you heard from Mrs Epsom?” I flip our eggs, my back to Dad where he sits at the breakfast table.

  “Mm-hmm.” He pauses to take a sip of coffee. “Charlotte spoke with Mick last night, and it didn’t go well.”

  I turn to look over my shoulder. “How so?”

  He nods toward breakfast, indicating I should keep my attention on not burning the eggs. “Understandably, Mick isn’t quite as empathetic to James’ cause with his kids after what Colt did to Johnson’s truck.”

  “J started that,” I argue. “He took after Colt the minute he and Lacey stepped into Arcadia.”

  “For good reason, it seems.” Dad sets his mug down. “Didn’t Colt come after somebody’s girlfriend or the like?”

  Shit. “Not quite. I mean, yes, but no.” I groan and set the eggs on our waiting toast. “Mandy dated that guy from town, remember? Richard.”

  Dad nods as I carry the plates across.

  “Colt shacked up with her, which is why they broke up.”

  He snags a rasher of bacon the second I set his breakfast down. “What’s the connection to Johnson, then?”

  “Nobody knew it was Colt; she didn’t say who, just that it had happened. So, the guys in Riverb
ourne assumed it was one of the guys out here …”

  “And boys being boys they took to each other.” He pauses to chew the meat. “But they know it was him now?”

  “Thanks to me, yeah.”

  “Huh.”

  Our conversation takes a break while we each down our meal. We made progress last night on the ride home, discussing the situation. I don’t know exactly how Dad plans to hold the Riverbourne jerks at bay tonight, but what I do know is that I’ll be there to help him do it. I’m as much responsible for this mess as the next guy. The least I can do is be accountable enough to sort it out.

  “You’re off to see Lacey this morning, are you?” Dad pushes his plate toward the centre of the table.

  I mop up the last of my yolk with a slice of toast. “Yeah.”

  “She’s a spitfire, that one.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. “I thought you wouldn’t like her after the way she spoke to you last night.”

  “It caught me off guard,” he admits. “But it takes guts to stand up for yourself and the ones you love. I respect that.”

  I shouldn’t feel so giddy hearing him say that but fuck it—I’ve waited a long time to hear him approve of something I love again.

  “She means well.”

  “But she’s confused.” He lifts one eyebrow, elbows on the table before him. “This is a lot to handle for someone your age, Tuck. Most adults cave under this kind of pressure.”

  “I know.” I swallow the last of my breakfast. “That’s why I worry about her.”

  “Be there.”

  I freeze, taken aback by how tender his tone is.

  “Speaking from experience, boy, all they need is you to be their rock.” He looks away, swallowing hard.

  “I miss her too, you know. We don’t have to do it alone.”

  Air rushes from his nose as he twitches a smile. “Very wise words.”

  “Got to learn something useful from you,” I tease.

  Dad taps the table twice before rising from his seat. “If we ride over to your girlfriends, I can bring the ute back, and you can bring Sally on the lead when you’re ready to come home, yeah?”

  Holy fuck—hearing Kurt call Lacey my girlfriend has happy tears biting at the back of my eyes. Man up, Tuck. Jesus. What the fuck is love doing to me?

  “Sounds like a solid plan.” I reach across and collect his plate, stacking it on top of mine. “Hey. Do you still have that old cell phone somewhere?”

  Dad frowns from his spot at the door, foot poised above his boot. “I think it’s in the top drawer of my duchess. Why?”

  “Lacey lost hers.” I carry the dishes across to the sink. “I want to be able to keep in touch with her until she can afford to get a new one.”

  “You’ll need to get a SIM card for it, but she’s welcome to use it. It’s nothing flash.”

  “I know. I only need to be able to message and call.”

  He nods, shunting his second boot on. “I’ll go saddle up. Meet you over at the shed.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He disappears across the yard, and I head up to his bedroom to find the phone. The clunky old thing is nigh on ten years old—only a basic browser saving it from being a complete brick—but it’s all she’ll need.

  It feels strange stepping foot into my parents’ room. Even after having Mum gone for so long, it’ll never stop being theirs. As long as I have memories of her in here, I can’t see it any other way.

  I haven’t had reason to enter since she passed.

  The revelation rips the air from my lungs. Positioned on her side of the bed is everything as it always was: pictures of us kids, one of her and Dad. I suppose he could leave those there since they’re technically just family shots that he can appreciate too.

  But beside the frames lie her hair-ties. Her watch.

  It’s as though she hasn’t left.

  Not my place to pry. Everyone deals in their own way. I guess when there isn’t a lot of Mum left in the rest of the house, I can appreciate what he’s done here. Except I have to wonder how much it messes with his head, waking each morning to the reminder of what he lost.

  Or maybe it’s the reminder of what he was lucky enough to have once? I know that’s how I choose to see her short life.

  Clearing my throat, I step across to his duchess and tug open each of the small top drawers until I find the phone. True to form, he has it stashed away with the charger cable neatly coiled beside it. I pocket both and turn for the door.

  Yet something pulls me back.

  As though Dad will bust me if I walk too quickly, I edge back to Mum’s side of the bed. Carefully enough that I don’t bump anything else, I pluck one of her hair ties from the table. Her smile radiates from the picture of Carey and me as toddlers, seated in front of her on Mum’s favourite mare, Petunia.

  “Get a move on, Tuck,” I mutter to myself.

  Her tie snaps into place on my wrist as I head for the door.

  I’ve got one hell of a day ahead of me, and if having a reminder of my mum’s love on me helps me get through it, then who the fuck am I to second guess it?

  She would have loved Lacey once she got to know her—I’m sure of it.

  But she would have loved that Dad and I have found a way to reconnect more.

  Because if I learned one thing from my mum, it’s that family and friends are everything. Your wealth and health can come and go but having the people who matter most to you by your side through the ups and downs is what makes life worth the ride.

  LACEY

  “Do we have to get up?” Greer rolls to her back, arms slung over her face. “I swear to God, it feels as though I only fell asleep a minute ago.”

  I give her another nudge with my foot, leg hanging off the side of my bed. “If I have to get up and face this, you can be a good best friend and do it with me.”

  “Ugh.” She tosses a pillow into the air that misses me entirely. “Your dad seemed alright about it last night. I mean, all things considered.”

  “Maybe.” I toss my sheets back. “But he’s had all night to stew over what I said.”

  Given a choice, I’d hide under my covers until my stomach demanded it be fed. But tonight is the night, and my curiosity gets the better of me. If I want to know how Johnson’s dad reacted, or what the parents plan to do about tonight, I have to show my face and bear the heat.

  Greer rolls to her side and reaches for her phone as I drag my arse toward the bathroom. I snag clean underwear, cami-top, shorts, and off-the-shoulder sweater on my way out.

  “I need to wash yesterday off me before I add today’s dirt,” I moan. “Dig around and find something clean to wear, hon.”

  “Will do.”

  I leave her in my room and cross over to the freezing cold bathroom. The old wall heater starts with a rattle, my teeth near chattering while I wait for it to warm the room. The sun could have been up for half the day, and this space would still be ice-cold—perks of being on the south side of the house.

  A full five minutes pass with me huddled under the heater while the steam from the warming shower slowly fills the room before I feel brave enough to remove my pyjamas. I spend the majority of the time playing scenario after scenario through my mind of what could happen tonight.

  In all our chaos, I never heard anything about Amber. It makes me wonder if Johnson’s dad knows what her plans are, and what kind of tricks she has up her sleeve. Surely inviting the Riverbourne kids was her only play, although I wouldn’t put it past her to use that as a catalyst for whatever other rubbish she has lined up.

  The hot water does sweet nothing to wash away the worries of yesterday, simply rejuvenating me to focus more clearly on the concerns that circle inside my head like a damn Tokyo expressway.

  Hair damp and tousled around my shoulders, I drag myself into my bedroom to dry it and apply light makeup. I barely make it two steps inside the door before Greer launches herself at me.

  “Read this.” She thrusts her Face
book feed under my nose.

  The concerns of seconds ago scamper back into the bathroom while I ingest a whole new host of horrors. It seems Colt’s little blackmail agenda has blown into an all-out smear campaign against Portside. Speculation runs high, and the guilty parties are out for blood, flinging suspected names around like damn confetti.

  Dee’s party seems like a mere inconvenience compared to this.

  “Holy hell.”

  “Right?” Greer drops beside me on the bed.

  I have no idea how I got here from across the room, too engrossed in the vile words contained in my hand.

  “Have you heard from him?” I ask, passing her the phone back.

  She double-taps and swipes up to bring her Messenger to the fore. “I sent him one after you got in the shower, but he hasn’t read it. Hopefully, that means he’s on the road already.”

  “If Dad wasn’t going to flip already, he sure is now.”

  “What about your mum?” Greer asks. “Would she have let him know? Phoned about it?”

  I glance toward the door. “Only one way to find out. You go have your shower.” I rise to my feet. “I’ve got this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nod, chewing on my bottom lip.

  It takes me a minute to find Dad after I discover he’s not in the house. He sits out on the front step, basking in the morning sun with a plate of toast on his knees.

  “How did you sleep?” I ask, choosing to stay a safe distance until he’s answered.

  He glances over his shoulder and then pats the space beside him. “I got a few hours. How about you?”

  “Broken.” I take my place at his side, the smell of his toast making my stomach growl.

  We never had a proper dinner last night.

  “Your mother forwarded me this.” He lifts his phone from where it sat concealed beside him and places it in my lap. “Naturally, I then went online to see what I could find on social media.” He sighs. “It’s everywhere amongst your peers, Lacey.”

  I read a screenshot of a message from Libby’s mother, claiming her so-called princess is a mess over the shared images.

  “Colt has some answering to do.”