Against the Tide (32 page)

It’s pretty late, but I send a quick text to my mum anyway, to let her know that I took her advice. If she’s awake, she’ll read it and if not, it will make her smile when she does wake up.

Why is it mums always know what’s best? Intuition, a sense of fate, instinct? Whatever it is, she was right.

I’m buzzed. Naturally buzzed, and I’m not ready to go back to Mum’s place on my own. I know I would only lay there awake for hours. Harley’s place isn’t far from Meg so I decide to drop in there and see what he knows about Damien Brooks. In the ten minutes it takes to stroll to Harley’s, I haven’t stopped grinning the whole way. I know my mum would tell me if the wind changes I would stay like this, and that’s fine with me. For the first time in a long time, I’m happy to be sober, happy to be here, just happy.

I walk up the small path to Harley’s front door and the hairs prickle on the back of my neck. The door is slightly ajar, and on closer inspection, the lock is busted. Oh, shit. A burglary? I am hoping and praying Harley is on a late shift, and I wrack my brains to try and think if he told me what he was working when he came with me to see Mum at the hospital. I feel my pockets, no flick knife, nothing that could be remotely useful should there still be someone in the house. So I pick up a rock out of the small flower bed and push the door open slowly.

“Harley?” I call out quietly. The place is in darkness, and an eerie calm falls around me.

I feel along the wall for the light switch and flip it on. “Oh, shit,” I mutter under my breath. The place is wrecked. The table in the hall has been pulled over, it’s contents everywhere and the lamp is smashed into tiny pieces on the wooden floor. I creep through slowly, with the only sound being the crunch of broken glass under my feet.

“Harley? You here?” I call, louder this time. Even I can hear the shakiness in my voice, and when there’s still no answer I’m not sure if I should be pleased that he’s not here or worried about where he is. I glance in the lounge, it’s been ransacked. TV smashed, everything pulled off the shelves, even the sofas have been sliced open and the stuffing pulled out everywhere.

I start to move faster through the house, turning lights on as I go and taking the stairs two at a time to check the bedrooms, and discovering that every room has been trashed, totally and utterly obliterated. This isn’t a burglary, this isn’t an opportunist. This is someone delivering a message.

“Harley, you here, man?” I shout, pushing on his bedroom door. It doesn’t move. I rattle the handle and push hard with my shoulder. It only opens a little as there’s something heavy behind it.
Someone
heavy behind it. Three hard shoves and I’ve managed to push it open enough to turn the light on and squeeze in through the gap. My throat constricts and I try to swallow past the knot that’s formed.

“Harley.” I panic, dropping to my knees next to him. “Harley, can you hear me?” He’s curled up in a ball, his face is battered and already swollen so he’s almost unrecognisable. His arm lays at an impossible angle and he’s lifeless. I try to still my own breathing to listen to his. Please god, don’t let him be dead.

He’s breathing, but it’s shallow and he needs medical help. “I’m going to call an ambulance, Harl, okay? You’ll be fine. Listen to me, yeah?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and call for help. I know they’ll send a police unit too, especially when they find out it’s Harley that’s been attacked. I don’t know what to do to make him comfortable while we wait. I don’t want to move him as I don’t know how injured he is. His room, like all the others, is annihilated. Every possible thing that could be destroyed, is. The beds are all torn. Every piece of ceramic, glass or mirror has been smashed beyond repair. 

“Help’s on its way, Harley, okay? You’ll be fine, I promise. And when you’re better, you can tell me who this was, yeah. I’ll get it sorted. I’ll get it all sorted.”

I hear a siren blip in the distance, then blue lights circle around the room indicating the ambulance pulling up outside. I reluctantly leave Harley’s side to push through all the mess and call out to them from the landing.

“He’s through here,” I tell them solemnly. I lead them through, not missing the glances they give each other as they make their way through the devastation that was Harley’s home, my home too for a while.

“What the hell happened here?” the female medic asks as we walk along the landing at the top of the stairs. I turn to look at her horrified expression, feeling the familiar sting of tears. “I don’t know,” I answer helplessly.

“It’s okay,” she offers. “That can be sorted out later, show me where your friend is.”

I stand in the corner of the room so I’m not in their way. They talk, medical terms that I don’t understand and the words all start to merge together to sound like constant noise in the otherwise still house. More people enter the room, police arrive, and they’re all talking, to me, to Harley, to each other. My head spins, but I can’t answer. I don’t know anything.

“Are you okay, sir?” the medic asks me. I give her a small nod, but can’t quell the rising fear that Harley isn’t going to be okay. What if he’s been beaten too badly? What if he has internal bleeding or something they can’t mend? I can’t lose him too.

“He’s like my brother,” I whisper. “Don’t let him die.”

I ride with Harley in the ambulance and already they have him hooked up to an IV with all kinds of machines and wires running from him.

“Is there someone you should call? Does he have a next of kin?” the female medic asks gently.

“Uh, yeah. His parents, I guess. His sister too. They don’t live near here though.”

“Okay, well, we can take details when we get to the hospital. Do you have any idea what happened?”

“No,” I answer, but the feeling in my stomach tells me otherwise. It all seems like too much of a coincidence. If this has anything to do with Damien Brooks then I will tear the skin from his body.

Hours pass slowly. Harley is made as comfortable as they can and they check his stats regularly. After determining that he doesn’t have any life threatening injuries, I breathe a sigh of immense relief. Although he does have some cracked ribs, a broken nose, fractured elbow and dislocated shoulder, which all sound fucking painful, he should heal up in time with no problems. The drugs they’ve given him will keep him comfortable and give him a chance to rest properly, but as soon as he comes around I know everyone is going to be asking him questions, so he’ll need to be prepared for that.

“I’ll be right here, mate,” I tell him, sitting in the chair right next to his bed.

“Finn?” a familiar voice rouses me from a fitful sleep, Harley’s sister, Loretta. I jump up to give her a hug. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her and although I wish it were different circumstances, it’s good to have her here.

“Lori. Hi.”

“What did they do to him? What did they do to my brother?” she cries, taking in the sorry sight of Harley and bursting into tears.

“Hey,” I say softly, pulling her to me. “It looks worse than it is; he’s going to be fine,” I soothe, but she cries harder and buries her head in my shoulder, giving in to the shock of seeing her twin brother so badly beaten. “He’s a tough cookie, you know he is.”

“But why? Who would do this?” she asks, wiping her tears and putting on her big sister face. She’s older by a couple of minutes and likes to remind Harley of this at every opportunity.

“I don’t know. But you know the police will be working hard to find whoever did this, and I don’t think they take too kindly about having one of their own beaten up like this, so you can be sure they are pulling out all the stops.” I feel a pang of guilt stab at me, the thought that this could be connected to me, it could be my fault, if it was Damien Brooks that did this, then it’s just another time when I should have been there. It isn’t lost on me that again, I was with Meg when something serious happened. But this time I don’t blame her. How can I? It was no more her fault than it was anyone else’s. She wasn’t to know it was happening, and neither was I. I can’t be everywhere to look after everyone, and Harley doesn’t need looking after, or at least he didn’t before today.

“What about the house?” Loretta asks. “Is it okay for me to stay there?”

“Uh, no. It was wrecked, Lori. I’m sorry. You can stay with me until we sort something out. For as long as you need.”

“Wait, you’re not living with Harley?”

“Nah, I moved back in with Mum, she’s not doing so well.” I give a small shake of my head. “She’s actually in hospital at the moment, so it’s just me rattling around in Mum’s big old house.”

“Oh, Finn. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about Lizzie, too. I know how close you guys were.” She places her hand on my cheek. “If there’s anything I can do …”

“Thanks, Lori. But you’ve got your own family to look after.” I look over at Harley, who’s still sleeping soundly.

“You’re having a rough time of things, huh?” Her soft voice taps at the hard front I’m putting on.

“Yeah, kinda.” I rub the back of my neck and take a deep breath. As much as I love Loretta, I’m too tired and overwhelmed to have an emotional heart to heart with her right now. “Look, I have some things to take care of. Can I leave you here for a few hours? I’ll call back in a while to see the old boy and bring you a key to my place.”

“Sure. I’ll be here.”

“Okay.” I peck her on the cheek and she gives me a small smile before turning her attention back to Harley with tears glistening in her eyes. “Hey, he’ll be fine. I promise.”

She nods and walks to his side, carefully taking his hand in hers. I feel her pain. I can’t imagine how close they are as twins, but if it’s anything like Lizzie and I, even with our eight year age difference, her heart is breaking seeing him like that. Thank god he’s going to be okay.

I slip out quietly and give Kyle a call. I need to fill him in on everything as he will want to visit Harley, too. I spent a lot of the night talking with the police. They’re keeping tight lipped and won’t tell me anything because I’m not next of kin or some shitty excuse like that. It’s bullshit if you ask me. I’m not sure if Damien is in police custody or not. If he’s banged up, who the hell has a vendetta against Harley? It had to have been more than one person, as I know Harley is more than capable of defending himself one on one. I also know it wasn’t a burglary gone wrong. Nothing was taken, but everything was destroyed. That is an act of revenge I’d say, and unless Harley has enemies I don’t know about, which I suppose is possible being in the force, all the indicators point at Damien Brooks.

Shit. Megan. What if he tries to contact her? I need to tell her what’s happened. When I dial her number, it goes straight to voicemail. I dial again, but still no answer. I don’t know if she’s working today, or if she will be at home, so I jump in the first taxi that comes along and order it to go straight to her place.

“Can you wait here, mate. Just for a minute?” I ask the taxi driver before getting out and jogging up the path. I’ll pay him to drive me around all day until I find her if that’s what it takes.

I bang on the door, with slightly more urgency than I mean to. I can’t hear any sign of life in there. “Meg?” I call through the letter box before banging again. “Meg, you there?” I call louder.

Then the door swings open, revealing a very pissed off house mate, standing there in leggings and an oversized tee shirt and a mop of tousled dark hair. “What’s the drama for at this ungodly hour?” she barks, looking none too amused.

I can’t help but chuckle at her. “You must be Jamie?”

“Yeah.” She pushes the hair out of her face and looks at me with a furrowed brow. “Oh, you’re …”

“Finn.”

“Well, hello, Finn. What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Megan,” I say, stating the obvious with a touch of sarcasm to my voice.

“She’s not here.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“Uh, yeah, I …” She chews on her thumbnail nervously which immediately makes me anxious.

“Is she at work? Jamie, tell me, where is she?” I ask with more urgency this time.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“So she’s not at work. Look, you’re her best friend, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I need to find her. I can’t get a hold of her on her mobile, and I need to speak with her.”

“About what?” She narrows her eyes at my vague explanation, but I don’t have time to give her the story, not now anyway.

“I just need to make sure she’s okay. Can you please tell me where she is?” I question, placing both hands on either side of the door frame with a hollow feeling churning in my stomach. What if she’s at his place now? What if … “Look, I will spend the whole day looking for her if you don’t tell me, because I want to make sure she’s okay. I have a best friend in hospital and my mum is sick, too. So I could do without playing games. Please tell me where she is,” I implore sincerely.

“She hasn’t told you, has she?”

“Hasn’t told me what?” I huff impatiently. I wish chicks wouldn’t talk in fucking riddles.

“She’s at the clinic. She’s pregnant, Finn.”

Jamie’s words hit me right in the centre of my chest. I certainly wasn’t expecting that and I don’t know what to say. “Are you …Is it … I−”