Always You

by Tiara Inserto

  “Don’t you two have some sort of history?”

  Blake shook his head, then opened the fridge and peered inside. He would love a strong drink. “Who? Me and Neela? Not really. I mean, we went to primary school together for a bit.”

  “And there is that video.”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “That was a million years ago.”

  “People still talk about it.”

  “I was twelve. I’m bigger and better now. You’d reckon with a championship and a few club titles under my belt, we could stop talking about that video.”

  Tim grinned as he joined Blake in the kitchen. He took the bottle of beer Blake offered. “Aren’t you having one? I think you deserve it tonight. I won’t tell.”

  “Can’t risk it. It’s a week until we leave for England. I had my one indulgence earlier.”

  Tim raised his beer. “You and Neela are part of rugby folklore with that video. I think my sister has included it in one of her syllabi.”

  Blake sat down at the kitchen table, ice pack in hand. “Your sister scares me.”

  “My sister scares most people, but I’ve learned a lot from her. She volunteers with Women Refuge. One in three women will be part of an abusive relationship at least once in their lifetime.”

  Blake shook his head. “That’s a shocking statistic. But it’s Neela Smyth we’re talking about. You grew up on the South Island and follow rugby. She’s expected to be on the team preparing for the Summer Games next year. Talk about folklore. Everyone who knows their rugby knows she doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

  Tim shrugged. “Neela wouldn’t be the first woman who’s hidden having an abusive boyfriend. I’m glad you brought her back. Best let Mano know she’s here.”

  “What should I say?”

  “The truth. She’s like a sister to him.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Blake said. “But I don’t think Neela wants him to know.”

  “Phone him, Blake. Let him know what you saw. He’d be angrier if he found out you knew and didn’t tell him. And you know he’ll find out. He always does.”

  Blake grimaced. “Feels like at least one of the cousins isn’t going to be happy with me.”

  “You’re about to leave for England with Mano. Not the best way to foster team unity. Remember when you made a pass at Liana at the last Championship?”

  “I didn’t make a pass! All I did was invite her to my nan’s birthday! I didn’t know anything was going on between Liana and your brother then. No one knew!”

  Tim grinned. “Mitch hasn’t forgiven you.”

  “He should. They’re married now. Hey, would Mitch and Liana want to know she’s here? I don’t want you to get into trouble with Mitch.”

  “They won’t mind. Mano’s like family to them, which means she’s family,” Tim said. He glanced at the clock on the wall and made a face. “I better turn in now. I’m driving to Piha with Professor Roberts, and he’s a stickler about leaving on time. But wake me up if you need anything. Or if she does.”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back, but...”

  “Go to bed, Tim. I’m sure I can handle it. Thanks for staying up, mate.”

  “No worries.” Tim looked toward the master bedroom again. “She may be Neela Smyth, but she can get hurt like any one of us. Phone Mano, yeah?”

  Blake sighed. He was tempted to wait until morning, but he couldn’t chance someone putting something out there on social media about what had happened at the pub. They might not know Neela, but anything that involved a National Team player these days garnered attention. He knew it wouldn’t be farfetched if tonight’s incident were already making its mark somewhere in cyberspace.

  “Blake?”

  Blake nodded before taking the ice pack off his face. “I’ll phone him right now.” It was the right thing to do, even though he was silently praying that the call would go straight to voicemail.

  No luck.

  “Blake?” Mano’s gruff voice greeted him suspiciously.

  “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “You’ve been arrested, haven’t you?”

  Blake grinned. “No. I’m good.”

  “Was Tim arrested? If he is, call his brother. I’m just the landlord.”

  “Tim’s good.”

  “Then why are you calling me at one in the morning?”

  Blake took a deep breath. This is the right thing to do. “She’s fine, but Neela’s with us at the Meriton. I was at the pub with some of the team. She was also there, and was in some sort of...well, it wasn’t exactly a fight, but there was this fella...”

  “Kyle? She met with Kyle?”

  “Yeah, that’s what she called him.”

  “Did he hit her?”

  Blake’s heart sank. “No.”

  Mano was quiet on the phone. “And she’s at the Meriton with you? Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is she hurt in any way?”

  “I don’t think so. He grabbed her pretty tight around the wrist, but he didn’t touch her otherwise while I was there.”

  “Right. Listen, you have to keep this quiet. Neela doesn’t want anyone to know about Kyle. I think it’s a mistake, but that’s her choice. Margot needs me tomorrow, but I’ll get on the first flight I can. Will you keep an eye on her until I arrive?”

  “Yeah.” Blake hesitated, then realized there was more to this situation than he knew about. “Uh, she said this fella — Kyle? — knows where she lives.”

  In all the years Blake had known Mano, he had never heard the usually quiet and amiable man use a derogatory term even once. Either on the pitch or off, Mano kept it clean. So for Blake to hear his team captain use several expletives in a row only highlighted how dangerous things really were for Neela.

  “If I know her, she’ll want to leave as soon as she wakes up. She’ll want to pretend it didn’t happen. Don’t leave her alone tomorrow,” Mano instructed.

  Blake shifted in his seat.

  “Blake? Mate?”

  “I’ll do my best. But I don’t know her well enough to insist that she stay,” he said. “We haven’t seen each other since we were kids, and, well, you know... She may not listen to me.”

  “Do what you have to do. Keep her there until I arrive.”

  Blake rubbed his forehead.

  “Come up with me to Auckland,” Tim had said.

  “Enjoy some time with the boys before we leave for England,” Mano had encouraged him.

  That was the last time he’d listen to his flatmates.

  Blake inhaled deeply. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I’m asking.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Neela opened her eyes to a color that wasn’t the soft cream walls of her bedroom. A whisper of lavender hung in the air, its comforting scent a contrast to the cool gray of the doona cover she lay under. She stretched her fingers, sliding them back and forth over dark linen she was reluctant to leave. Turning on her back, she pushed herself deeper into pillows that only encouraged her to stay where she was.

  Definitely not her room, but her instincts told her she wasn’t in any danger.

  Then the events from last night came back swiftly, in images that promised to sear themselves into her memory: Kyle, the pub, Blake showing up out of nowhere. This wasn’t a nightmare she could dismiss after she woke up.

  Neela shut her eyes and pulled a pillow over her head, hoping to vanquish the onslaught of fear that threatened to manifest itself in a flood of tears. She swallowed the scream that wanted to come out.

  Sitting up, she forced herself to relax her shoulders, then closed her eyes again. “Breathe. You can do this.”

  She fingered the area of her forearm where Kyle had held her so aggressively the night before. Without looking, she knew there’d be visible bruising.

  Wherever she was this morning, she was there because Blake had insisted she go back with him. What would have happened last night if he hadn’t shown up? Would she
have allowed Kyle to drag her out of the pub? Would she have fought back?

  Kyle.

  She shivered.

  He had kept his violence toward her private. Last night, for the first time in their history, he hadn’t been afraid to show his true colors in public.

  She could admit now that she had been in an abusive relationship and had chosen to stay in one for months. Now, almost a year later, she wondered how it had spiraled into a situation where, if it hadn’t been for the intervention of her cousin, she might never have seen how much danger she really was in.

  But it wasn’t over. Kyle was back. For money. Money she didn’t have.

  Was that all she was to him in the end?

  How was it possible to feel so much for someone who didn’t care for her as deeply? She’d believed him when he said he loved her. But she’d also believed him when he apologized repeatedly with promises to never to hit her again, that the first slap had been an accident, that he just needed to learn to control his temper.

  She could call the police, but she couldn’t deny that she owed him money. Like it or not, he had paid for all the extra training that had brought her back to the level where she needed to be.

  Neela sighed. Life had just started to become understandable again when her past had to rear its ugly head.

  Still seated in the middle of a king-size bed, she followed the lines of the morning sun to the bureau against the wall. On it, a collection of framed photos of various sizes was on display. An ornately decorated frame caught the light, its blue and pink rhinestones sparkling.

  She got out of bed to study the collection of photographs found in most families’ homes: a wedding, several pictures of a much-loved baby, and a close-up of a beautiful girl with startling blue eyes. But among the everyday family snapshots were also photographs which depicted lives that were far from ordinary.

  A discreet knock interrupted a rare insight into the Molloy family. “Neela? Are you up?”

  “Yes, I’m up,” she replied, taking one last look at the wedding photo of New Zealand’s most famous sporting couple.

  “Good. There’s coffee if you’re interested,” Blake said through the door. “I can make tea if you prefer that.”

  She took a deep breath, knowing she was going to have to face Blake sooner or later. Leaving the house without saying ‘thank you’ wasn’t an option, though it was tempting.

  She hated that he had been part of last night. Being a woman who needed to be saved wasn’t a role she coveted, but she was also honest enough to admit that if he hadn’t been there, she could have been the recipient of Kyle’s next punch.

  Wincing at the memory of Blake’s face when Kyle’s fist had made impact, she recognized the mask of control that had immediately replaced the shock at being hit. The horror of that moment accompanied the instant recognition that with Blake next to her, Kyle couldn’t hurt her.

  “Neela, are you all right?”

  “Uh, yes. Sorry. Coffee would be fine. Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “There are clean towels in the ensuite if you want to take a shower.”

  “Thanks. I might do that.”

  She stood under the rush of water longer than she should have. Even though she had to wear the same clothes she had slept in, at least she could face Blake Stanton feeling somewhat lucid. She needed all the emotional armor she could muster to meet another part of her life she had thought was long since over.

  As she left the bedroom, Blake’s rich baritone voice accompanied a soundtrack that filled the condo. She leaned against the entryway that led from the bedrooms to the kitchen and dining area. She couldn’t quite decipher the words. Italian?

  Blake’s love for opera was a well-known fact, and he was often quoted as saying that the invitation to sing at the city’s New Year’s Eve celebration had been one of the highlights of his life. She wasn’t a fan of opera, but even she could hear that he was good. Or at the very least, able to carry a tune.

  She walked toward the kitchen counter, making a sound as she climbed onto one of its barstools. Blake turned with a ready smile on his face, but she frowned when she caught sight of the darkened area just below his jaw.

  “I’ve been hit worse.” He smiled wider and held up a mug. “Coffee, you said?”

  “Coffee will be great. Thanks.”

  “I’m just about to have a protein shake. Tim made an extra serving if you’d like one.”

  He pulled out a plastic pitcher filled with an ominous green liquid from the refrigerator.

  She raised her eyebrows. “Tim made that?”

  “Yes. Scientifically proven to do...uh...something. I tune out when he starts bringing out reams of data. How about it, eh?”

  “I’ll give it a go. Tim still here, is he?”

  Blake shook his head as he poured Neela a tall glass of the green shake. “He left before dawn. Collecting data by the coast. Something to do with slugs and water salinity.” He pushed the glass towards Neela. “What do you reckon? Give it a go?”

  She reached for the drink. Different textures and flavors teased her taste buds: lemon, apple, celery...mint? She took another look at the glass in her hand, swirling it gently. “This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

  Blake laughed. “Tim’s quite the nutritionist. He eats far better than Mano or me. When we’re in training mode, he has no problem dobbing us to the team nutritionist.”

  Neela smiled at the idea. “Mano dobbed in for bad eating habits? That’s not like him.”

  “No.” Blake grinned. “But you know he can’t say ‘no’ to a bucket of fried chicken.”

  “No, he can’t. It’s a weakness that runs through the whole family. Our nan’s fault. Her fried chicken is the centerpiece of our family reunions.” She reached for the mug now in front of her, shaking her head at the offer of milk. She inhaled the aroma of the dark liquid. “I hope I didn’t keep you from anything this morning.”

  Blake shook his head. “No, I take Sundays off. I was going for a swim, but I’m under strict instructions from your cousin to keep an eye on you until he arrives.”

  She spat out her coffee. “You’re under what?”

  Blake offered her a serviette. She took it, trying to temper the building anxiety at what her cousin could now know. “He’s in Christchurch. I know he is. Margot has one more dose of chemo this week.”

  Blake leaned his large frame against the counter, his index finger idly following the curves of the tall glass that held his shake. “Yeah, well, he said he’d get the first flight from Christchurch to Auckland tomorrow. He just sent me his itinerary. He’ll be here in the morning.”

  “You told him about last night, didn’t you? Everything?” she asked. A tedious thumping began in the back of her head. She didn’t want Mano involved again.

  “Yeah.”

  Their eyes met. He was no longer the boy she remembered from primary school, but his face —and physique—were all too familiar. He was on half the billboards throughout the country. But now, separated from him by a wide, smooth granite countertop, she took in his keen brown eyes, the sharp nose that had miraculously escaped being broken over the years, and the practiced smile that had graced the covers of dozens of publications. His thick neck and broad shoulders were the expected results of years in the gym. Although not tall, he filled up space. The top of her head would just reach the tip of his nose.

  She knew how his body worked because she studied him as diligently as she did some of the all-time greats of the sport. While he wasn’t on the same lofty levels as legendary rugby players such as Mitch Molloy and Connor Dane, Blake Stanton continued to be an integral part of one of the world’s elite sporting teams. He was known for being tenacious on the field. Despite all the attention he garnered with his colorful social life, there was no argument among the fans and critics that he deserved his place on the National Team.

  Yes, she was fully aware of the very public image of Blake Stanton.

  But off the field
, she was less sure of the man. He had a friendly face, the kind of face a mother would like to see on her daughter’s date. He smiled in all his marketing pictures and came off as easy-going and fun.

  She was also now sure that the same focus that took him to the highest level of professional rugby could be equally potent in whatever else he felt he needed to do. She had seen that last night. She might not know the reason why he’d stepped in when he did, but there was no doubt in her mind that – at that moment – he was committed to being there for her.

  Except she didn’t want his help anymore. She especially didn’t want another man in her life who thought he knew better than she.

  “I wish you hadn’t said anything to Mano,” she continued. “He has a lot on his mind. I don’t need to be one more thing.”

  He crossed his arms. “I had to. It didn’t feel right not saying something to him about last night. We know how much you mean to him.”

  “Look, he’s not my keeper. I know you mean well, but Mano flying over from the South Island is overreacting. This was his last break before the National Team leaves for the World Championship.”

  “I don’t tell Mano what to do.”

  “You could have told him I was fine, that I wasn’t hurt.”

  “That would have been a lie because I wasn’t sure if you were ‘fine.’ I’m still not sure if you are. And you have bruises.”

  “So do you,” she retorted, then instantly regretted her outburst.

  Neela placed both of her hands, palms down, on the countertop. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You did what you thought was right, and if I know Mano, there was nothing you could have said last night that would have changed his mind. But I’m going home after I finish my coffee.”

  “I promised him I’d keep an eye on you until he arrives.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Hey, if there’s one person in the world who doesn’t need convincing about that, it’s me. You were always the one in charge when we were kids.”

  Her eyes narrowed when she recognized the teasing quality in Blake’s voice. It was the one he used in his interviews, especially when the reporter was a woman.