Don't Leave Me Breathless

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Don't Leave Me Breathless Page 26

by A Kelly


  Scooter quickly ran to the kitchen and sniffed every corner like a drug-detecting dog. She woofed from time to time. Then she sniffed the rest of the house. But when Scipio came home, she ran straight to him and simply became Scooter.

  ‘Oh, you cheeky mutt!’ said Scipio. He looked at Summer. ‘What a surprise.’

  ‘I got lonely. I thought I’d wait for you here.’

  Scipio kissed her. ‘You? Got lonely?’

  All she’d thought about was: what if she only had a week left to be with him?

  ‘It’s so muggy in here,’ he said, and took off his shirt.

  ‘Your tummy feeling okay?’

  ‘Yeah. That dodgy sandwich is completely out of my system. Caine and I just hung out at the shelter, having his homemade soup.’ He unbuckled his belt and loosened his pants.

  Summer followed Scipio to the bathroom. Scooter was about to tail them, but Summer gestured her to stay in the kitchen.

  When Scipio took off his briefs, ready to step into the shower, she wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her hands on his pecs.

  ‘Summer…’ he sighed.

  It was a sigh of dread. Had he noticed something?

  She kissed his neck, his cheeks, and his lips. He returned her kisses, but she couldn’t help feeling his hesitation.

  ‘I want you,’ Summer begged as she stripped herself naked. ‘Please.’

  Scipio pulled her to him and lifted her left leg. The tip of his phallus slid inside her, followed by perhaps an inch more, then an inch more. He stopped there. Without moving or making any sound, she took in the stretching sensation. There was enough of him in her, for now. She buried her face in his chest and silently begged him to stay this way for a while. As if he’d listened, he stayed still. No thrusting, no writhing.

  She exhaled long, then she kissed his nipples and squeezed her thighs inward.

  Scipio came with a restrained jolt. In silence they remained connected.

  Once he pulled out, he leaned on the shower screen; his palms suctioned against the glass.

  Summer came to him and reached for his phallus. But he slapped her hand.

  ‘There’s nothing there!’ he snapped and lifted the shaft. It had softened and there was no sign of it rising again. He sighed. ‘I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said, and patted his shoulder. ‘You have your shower.’

  Scipio nodded.

  ‘Can I sleep here tonight?’

  ‘You don’t have to ask,’ he said slowly. ‘Of course, I’ll be glad if I find you in my bed when I come out of the shower.’

  In bed, Summer turned down the duvet and when Scipio emerged from the bathroom, wearing only his boxers, she tapped the mattress, urging him to come quickly.

  With him lying next to her, Summer felt like the soft mattress had swallowed her even deeper.

  ‘I didn’t make you come,’ Scipio said, holding her hand.

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘And I, well, tonight I’m done.’

  She kissed his hand. ‘I was too eager. I just felt lonely.’

  ‘Come here,’ he said and pulled her to him.

  ‘Are you still in pain?’ she asked.

  He shook his head and switched off the light.

  ‘I’m just tired.’

  Bats swooped above the roof. She thought about what to say next, or whether to just shut up.

  But she didn’t have to decide as Scipio soon broke the silence: ‘Summer… do you want to have a family with me?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she said.

  ‘I told you Caine and I had our guys’ night tonight. Truth is, he didn’t want to be home before his wife went to bed. They had success with her last IVF. But they lost the baby.’

  ‘That’s awful.’

  ‘The baby stopped growing after two months. The way he described her pain…’

  Summer rubbed his chest. ‘You’re still afraid of me having a miscarriage like Emily?’

  Scipio put his hand on hers, squeezing her fingers lightly. ‘I can’t help it. It makes me question if I’m meant to be a father at all.’

  ‘You are already a father, and you will be a father again – with me.’

  This time Scipio’s hand wrapped Summer’s completely – he held her tight. ‘Summer, Cornelia isn’t mine.’

  ‘Scipio?’

  ‘Emily told me a week before our wedding.’

  That woman!

  Summer rolled over and sat up next to Scipio, facing him. ‘Cornelia is your daughter.’

  ‘I’m not sure she would think the same if she found out.’

  How would she have felt if Pierre had told her he wasn’t his real dad? Probably she would’ve blamed him even though it wouldn’t have been his fault. But her own reaction might not be a good benchmark, considering her relationship with Pierre was heaven and hell in comparison with Scipio and Cornelia. Summer probably would’ve wanted her mum to tell her, and she wouldn’t have been angry with her mum.

  ‘Just because Cornelia has another father, it doesn’t mean that she’s not your daughter. You are her father, Scipio. Nothing will change that.’

  ‘Should I tell her?’

  ‘You have to choose the right moment,’ said Summer. ‘But yes, I think you should tell her. I’m here for you if you need me.’

  He kissed her and exhaled. ‘I didn’t mean to worry you.’

  ‘I’m glad you told me.’ Summer lay back on his chest.

  And Scipio breathed into her hair and whispered they should go to sleep.

  Summer’s phone buzzed in the early morning hours. A knife-stab away. This time it came with a photo of Scipio hunching next to his car, holding on to the roof as if he was short of breath. It could’ve been from yesterday.

  Scipio mumbled ‘You okay?’ and soon went back to sleep when Summer kissed him.

  But his phone buzzed, too, and before Summer could snatch it away, Scipio had seen the message:

  Sleeping beauty

  And there was a photo of her sleeping on Scipio’s bed.

  Scipio stormed out of the bedroom; Scooter greeted him. ‘Stay! Scooter, stay!’ he commanded as he turned all the lights on. ‘Show yourself! Damn you, show yourself!’ he shouted.

  ‘Scipio, come back!’ Summer called in despair – imagining Bobby ready to ambush her man.

  Scooter ran and hid behind the couch as if she were in trouble. Soon Summer realised which photo Bobby had sent Scipio, and she was somewhat relieved. She approached Scipio, who was walking around the house with a cricket bat in his hands.

  ‘Scipio, he’s not here,’ Summer said and hugged him. ‘It’s an old photo.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look at my hand.’ She pointed at the picture, her hand resting on her chest. ‘Before I paid him 70K, remember you saw bruises on my hand? And I said we’d fought?’

  He sighed and let his face fall on Summer’s shoulder.

  Scipio gazed at the Penguin beach from one of the council-sponsored chairs scattered around the shoreline. On any other day he would’ve jumped in and swum for hours. But next to him was Summer, whom he wouldn’t let out of his sight, and who had refused to let him swim. On his feet Scooter had turned into her docile self, while every so often she got half-distracted by the seagulls swooping about.

  ‘So he drugged you,’ Scipio said about the photo of her sleeping, taken by Bobby.

  ‘He didn’t touch me, Scipio.’

  He was about to demand how she could know that – but he didn’t have the heart. He was sure Bobby was somewhere behind them, or at the other end of the beach, or somewhere in the hills, hoping Scipio and Summer would have this precise argument. So he simply kissed her and whispered, ‘I love you’. He tapped his fingers on the chair and continued: ‘How are we going to get 500K in a week? How much is that in Aussie dollars?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I think we should ignore him. Fuck Bobby! As long as we stay to
gether, never leave each other’s side, we might get through this. I don’t have faith in the police, but sooner or later, with our help, they’ll get him.’

  Scipio shook his head.

  Summer continued, ‘Tim had a friend in Hobart, another marine. He’s the brother of the real Samantha Doyle. Might be worth asking if he could protect us until Bobby is back in custody.’

  ‘You don’t believe I can protect you?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. The one thing that I fear most is you getting hurt or killed. We’ll think of a way.’

  ‘I can sell my house. I can sell the shop––’

  ‘Never! You keep your house and your shop. We stay in Penguin.’

  ‘And I think…’ Scipio looked at Scooter. ‘I think it’s too soon for us to keep a dog. Scooter is really sensitive, and I think she gets the vibe when we’re tense.’

  He had Scooter’s interest front and centre. She watched the waves, resisting Scooter’s stare, then she uttered a soft ‘yeah’.

  ‘I’ll give her back to Caine tomorrow.’

  He knew she noticed his tears. He had cried when he’d returned the mutt to the shelter the first time after a family agreed to adopt her; although it hadn’t worked out. Scooter was sitting upright again at Summer’s feet.

  ‘Oh, Scoot…’ Summer whispered.

  And the mutt barked tentatively.

  The next morning, a dream woke Scipio. He was drowning in a river. It felt like the Blythe River, but it was raging like a river flowing through a mountain. He could breathe underwater, yet he was scared. He was scared of where the water took him. When he opened his eyes, Summer wasn’t in bed with him.

  He found her cuddling with Scooter on the couch.

  ‘Hey…’ he whispered.

  She tried to hide her tears.

  ‘I don’t want to let her go, Scipio,’ she said. ‘She knows me. I don’t know how, we’ve only been together on and off. But the way she looks at me and rubs against me… it’s soothing.’

  Scipio pecked Summer on the forehead and at the same time patted Scooter on the head. ‘So you’re saying she’s going to take my place?’

  Summer chuckled. ‘Maybe.’

  As if Scooter understood, she turned her body, like a donut circling around, and landed herself on Scipio’s lap.

  ‘I’m worried Bobby might hurt her too,’ she said.

  ‘We won’t let him.’

  ‘Oh, Scoot… what should we do with you?’

  ‘Let’s keep her a while longer. What do you think?’

  ‘Okay.’

  29

  Show me a hero

  ‘Amazing how a dog can change you,’ Chris commented.

  ‘Well, she’s not a Russo yet. We’re just fostering her.’ Scipio said.

  ‘That’s sad! Not a Russo yet.’

  The way he put it, it felt like Scooter had to pass some sort of probation to be part of the family, and that was sad. But Scipio simply couldn’t commit right now. Then he pondered over Chris’s earlier comment. ‘Heey... what did you mean I’ve changed?’

  ‘Heh! Like… you haven’t sworn today.’

  ‘I don’t swear!’

  ‘Yes, you do! Stocktake equals swearing for you,’ Chris said.

  Scipio couldn’t deny it.

  ‘When you started going out with Summer, you became quieter, more reflective. And you look younger.’

  Scipio didn’t believe his assistant, but that didn’t stop him from glancing at his own reflection on the metal panel next to him. Despite all the chaos in his life right now, maybe Summer had made him feel younger, or look younger.

  ‘Now you’ve got Scooter, you’re like vintage champagne.’

  ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  ‘You’re sparkling, bubbling, and yet still sweet and full of goodness.’

  ‘Are you asking for a pay rise?’

  ‘That’d be swell!’

  Scipio had been working on it, as a matter of fact. He’d even thought about putting Chris’s name on his will – if anything happened to him, his assistant would get the shop.

  ‘Hey, boss––’

  ‘Shush!’

  A familiar bark. It was coming from the street.

  Scipio opened the door and listened into the wind. A few seconds later the sound and the source arrived at his feet. Scooter wasn’t a barker but this time she wouldn’t stop. Her hips were jiggling anxiously and her front paws were on and off the ground alternately, restlessly.

  Without wasting a second he ran to his car with Scooter by his side and sped home. As soon as Scipio opened the car door, Scooter whooshed to the Beam House.

  ‘Summer!’ he yelled. He then gave a stern order to Scooter: ‘Stay!’

  The door was ajar and inside the Beam House living room Summer was lying on the floor, Bobby sat on top of her, strangling her. She was bleeding from the mouth while Bobby himself was badly bruised.

  Scipio lunged at Bobby with rage.

  There was no resistance. Bobby let himself fall to the floor, laughing. ‘It’s our game!’ Bobby said, with Scipio on top of him. ‘Tell him, Summer!’

  Scipio was about to hit Bobby with a barrage of punches but when he saw Summer lying motionless, he turned to her.

  ‘Summer!’ He tapped her face but she didn’t respond.

  ‘She’s okay!’ Bobby mocked.

  ‘Call an ambulance!’

  Bobby chortled as he slowly got up. ‘A loving fiancé. But clearly you don’t know her.’

  Summer soon gasped and opened her eyes. The scene took him back to the night he’d found her lying on the floor after trying to hang herself.

  Summer overcame her breathlessness quickly and scanned the room. Scipio covered her view of Bobby who was behind him. That man could’ve had a knife and stabbed him right there, or swung a blow to the back of his head, but when he turned to look, Bobby was watching him amicably, almost admiringly. Somehow Scipio trusted Bobby not to harm him while he was down with Summer in his arms.

  Summer’s eyes were assessing Scipio. She was about to swing a punch but she stopped.

  ‘Scipio…?’

  Scipio hugged her. ‘It’s me. You ok?’

  He felt her head nodding against his chest.

  ‘Aw!’ said Bobby. Scipio knew he was looming behind him. ‘It’s our game. And she’s good at it, oh she’s good. She can really kick your ass, I tell ya.’

  ‘The police know you’ve come here, Bobby. Your face is everywhere. You’re going back to jail.’

  ‘My face is everywhere, but I’m the only one seeing it. People imagine a violent rapist when they see those posters, not a guy taking a selfie with his pretty girlfriend, or running on the beach with a dog in tow. I threw sticks, chased the waves and said hello to people. No one, Joseph, no one saw the face of a rapist in me.’

  Bobby helped himself to a bowl of grapes and sat on the sofa.

  Summer got up and Scipio quickly stopped her from approaching Bobby. He stood between them.

  Bobby ignored Scipio at first, but then he rose and jerked his shoulders, as if readying himself for a strike. His pose was so theatrical that his challenge looked rather fake. But in a split second he’d grabbed Scipio’s collar and there was nothing fake about the anger that smeared his face. ‘The transaction isn’t done, Joseph. She’s still my wife! And she owes me money.’

  Summer slid herself in between the two men and––

  A thump.

  She kneed Bobby in the gut.

  The blow pushed him back and that prompted him to let Scipio loose. And she did it twice more, harder. Bobby dropped to the floor. He stared at Summer and so far wasn’t showing any intention to fight back. Not that he couldn’t, he was stunned –– both Bobby and Scipio were stunned.

  Soon Bobby laughed. ‘See… see, that’s what I meant.’

  ‘Don’t you ever touch him!’ Summer threatened.

  Scipio reached for his pocket––

  ‘Looking for this?’ Bobb
y dangled Scipio’s phone.

  Summer glared at Scipio and shook her head.

  ‘You’ve got to learn from that sleeping beauty. She knows better.’ Then he tossed the mobile phone back to Joseph. ‘I’m leaving! But I don’t want to be short-changed again, Summer. Five hundred and fifty thousand two hundred and three dollars.’

  ‘You have to wait three years. Did your genius lawyer tell you that?’ Summer said. Her eyes shot at Bobby as if she could hold her blinking forever. ‘What are you gonna do with that much cash anyway? You can’t just take it somewhere.’

  Bobby smiled. He reached out his hand, ready to scoop her chin.

  Scipio jumped in front of Summer. ‘Don’t you touch her!’

  Still behind Scipio, Summer took a step to her right. She really wanted to look at Bobby. ‘You have all my money. As I said, I gave away the rest. Bobby, read my lips: every dollar, every cent.’

  ‘I still can’t get over the fact you gave 400K to animals. In memory of your dead rats? Or that old dog?’

  To all creatures great and small… it was her!

  ‘I’ll give you 200k,’ Scipio said.

  He felt Summer tugging the back of his shirt, but she remained silent.

  Bobby locked his eyes on Scipio. That face – youthful and wholesome – Scipio hoped he would see reason. ‘You have my word, Bobby.’ Somehow the long stare softened the young man.

  ‘All right, give me 200k now. But your long-term fate isn’t guaranteed until I get the remainder of the money. You’ll hear from me.’ He waved his hand and leisurely walked away. ‘You should go to the doctor, man. Look at you perspiring, and your lips…’

  Summer turned to see Scipio’s face with a look of horror. What did he look like?

  Bobby left them with a final note: ‘Four days!’

  Scipio let Scooter in and latched the door. He stared at Summer. Her lips were swollen and her neck was blotched with blue and purple finger marks.

  Silently he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her. ‘Summer… Summer… Summer…’

  ‘Scipio!’ Summer said, holding his wilting body.

  This nightmare that Summer had warned him about had left him numb. Her suicide note …my life is one long nightmare, might have been her dad’s, but it all felt relevant now. Was Bobby going to draw first blood? If he died at Bobby’s hands, she would commit suicide. If she died, what would he do?

 

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