Bad Boy vs Millionaire (18 page)

“
Okay, smart guy, just follow the tracks in the mud you said. Well, that worked out well for us.”

We
had walked for an hour and somehow ended up at the same old cottage where we'd started. The tracks in the mud got confusing at one point and there had been lots of animal tracks added to them.

“
What are we going to do now?”

Surely
, if we didn't get back to the house, eventually the old woman would come looking for us. But how long would that take? Already, the sun seemed less bright and my jacket too thin to deal with the cold.

“
We could try again?” Jack didn't sound very certain.

“
How long do you reckon it'd take for the woman to come looking for us?” I asked. I hoped she didn’t have dementia or something and had forgotten we even existed.

“
I dunno but I have to get back to the city. I've got stuff to do.”

I
noticed he'd never exactly said what it was he had to do. That had to be dodgy. He looked away in that way he did when he didn’t want to talk about things.

“
Well, you are not going to get back in time anyway, even if we do magically find the path back. I don't even know if there is a path. It might all be a trick and the forest has grown in around us and we'll never get out.”

“
You're right. I mean about not getting back in time. What a screw up.” Jack sat down on his haunches and lit a cigarette. Not much else to do there.

I
jumped up and down beside him. Jack could be so damn thick sometimes.

“
You have a lighter. Woohoo!”

“
You taking up smoking?”

“
No, I'm going to build a fire in that old fireplace.”

“
I'll build the fire. Do you have any paper or anything?”

I
looked through my bag. I had a bunch of old receipts and a couple of pamphlets and some other junk. I also had half a bar of chocolate and some jelly beans.

“
You are so sharing that candy,” Jack said.

“
Oh, it's okay for you to take handouts now, is it? Not so high and mighty.”

“
You want the lighter, you share the candy.”

“
Okay, but you'd better make that fire good.”

We
scrounged around for dried sticks then piled them beside the fireplace in the old house. Two of the walls around it were still intact and the third had only half fallen down but the wall on the other side was completely gone. At least it would provide some shelter though.

Jack
broke up some of the smaller sticks then got a fire going with the junk papers from my bag.

“
Your rich boyfriend wouldn't be able to start a fire like that. It takes skill and manliness.” He brushed his hands together in total self-satisfaction.

“
No, my rich boyfriend would call for a helicopter to airlift us out. That's what rich people do.” I folded my arms.

“
Why don't you call for one then?”

“
No battery. What about you?”

Jack
checked his phone. “A little bit, maybe enough to make a call, if I actually knew the number of a helicopter place. Which I don't, on account of not being rich.”

“
You could text Angie or Eric. Then they could try to contact the old woman. Angie said she didn't have a phone but I don’t know if she was kidding about that.”

“
She was kidding, of course. No one in this world doesn't have a phone. And the old lady, she's old. Even if she is scary, she could fall and break a hip or something and no one would know. I bet her kids never contact her and just leave her alone out here in the bush. And the neighbours don't come around because she's so scary and old. Wow, poor old lady.”

I
wasn't sure were the concern about the old lady and her made up kids came from. But he was right. It wasn’t safe for an old woman like her to be living all the way out there with no phone.  Even if she did seem as tough as boot leather.

“
Just text them. It's getting even darker.”

I
gathered up some more branches for the fire while Jack sent the texts.

“
Wish we had some marshmallows for the fire.”

I
shivered. My front was warm where I squatted in front of the fire but my back was getting colder. I turned around, figuring if I rotisseried myself like a chicken, I'd get even amounts of warm. The clouds looked bad too. If it started raining, we’d be doomed. I wasn’t sure if the fire would keep burning if it rained.

Jack
took his coat off and put it around my shoulders.

“
You can't give me your coat. You'll freeze to death.”

Jack
looked at me all squinty-like.

“
You're right. It's bloody freezing. Give me back my coat.”

“
Hey, that's not how it's done. You can’t take it back.”

“
Don't you think it's unfair that I have to give up my coat because I'm a man? I feel the cold too, Hannah. I feel it bad.” He rubbed his arms as if to emphasise his coldness. “It’s reverse sexism, that’s what it is.”

I
rolled my eyes.

“
We can time share the coat. I’ll have it for a while then you can have it.”

Jack
grinned. He was totally going to let me do that.

“
How's the preparation going for the tour?” he asked.

“
Good, it's pretty easy actually. With a big set up like this, we just have to send them our stuff and they organise everything. They'll send though a schedule for publicity soon. I'll email it to you. There's going to be radio interviews and stuff like that. Articles in the local press. You'll have watch what you say. Don't offend anyone.”

“
I don't offend people. Well, apart from you. I'm pretty good at that.” That crooked grin of his always made my heart melt.

“
That's for sure. So, yeah, most of the prep work is done. It's just up to you guys now to make it happen.”

“
Let's gather up some more of this wood in case we’re here for a while.”

We
got to work looking for wood. Soon, we had a decent sized stack gathered near the fire and at least the exercise kept me warm.

I
found a huge branch, nicely dried out for burning and lugged it into the house.

“
Take a break, Hannah. You look stuffed.”

“
I'm okay.”

“
No you aren't. You’re screwed. If you keep working, you'll break yourself.”

“
Why do think it's your place to tell me what to do? Don't you think I have the sense to take a break if I need one? I don't need you to do it for me.”

Because
what was the alternative? Sitting with Jack in front of that fire? The two of us, alone. I wished I could press the pause button on my life for a while. No Jack, no Tamaki, just some time to work out what I wanted.

“
It's because I care for you.'

Even though he said these things, there was a catch in his voice like there was some big ‘but’ he wanted to add.

The
branch I carried fell from my hands, narrowly missing my foot. I’d totally not expected him to say that. I picked it up and added it to the stack then squatted in front of the fire, giving it a poke with a long stick. Looking at the fire was much safer than looking at Jack Colt.

“
See, this… this is what I mean. You throw this shit at me out of left field and I'm supposed to deal with it.”

“
Well, if I didn't throw it out of left field, where would I throw it from? I've got to get it over that stubborn high wall of yours. You don't let people close, Hannah. Maybe you should rely on others more instead of trying to do everything yourself. You don't have to be strong all the time. Have you thought about taking it easy?”

“
And what if I do rely on other people? It's just letting them screw things up. Do you think I can rely on you?”

Jack
squatted down beside me, looking me right in the eyes. For a moment, the earnestness in his deep, brown eyes disarmed me.

“
Maybe you can’t, Hannah. The reason I wanted to get back to the city was to sign with Blainsley Management. But I think it’s best for you. For us too. For all of us.”

I
pushed him away from me and stood up, putting some space between us. Again, he’d gone from being almost caring to pulling the ground out from under me. I needed to not look at him. I needed to get my shit together.

“
Listen to me, Hannah. It's for the best. It really is. You can't be with your rich boyfriend if you’re tied to us.”

His
words made no sense to me. What he was really saying was that he was done with me. He wanted nothing more to do with me. That was the only reason I could think of.

He’d said he’d fight for me but this wasn’t fighting.
This was giving up.

Why
did he even bother going there with me today? What was the point of making the video — or doing anything, when it meant nothing? Their new management would probably want to do things their own way. Where would that leave me? And where would it leave Angie?

“
Don't worry, it's just easier this way. You aren’t going to stick around managing a band for the rest of your life. You must have plans for the future that don’t involve us.” He reached out to stroke my hair and I knocked his hand away. “Well, for other reasons too. You know I'm fucked up, but I mean what I say, Hannah.”

“
So, what have you told me that's true?”

“
Most of it. Except that stuff about my father. I really do have nothing. The bastard ran out on us when I was born and we've never heard from him since. But I figure chicks don't want to hear that. They want to think that I have some hope of becoming something.”

“
Like the music's not enough.”

“
It's not. Well, not if we don't make it big. I've got a few years left but then I'm just a washed up wannabe with a pile of broken dreams. We have to get to the next level or it's nothing.”

I
noticed his fingers had gone from stroking my hair to playing with my neck.

What
was I doing? I couldn't let him do that to me. It was just like before — a game to get me to do what he wanted. Once we got back home, he'd be laughing about it with Spud. How he'd fooled me again. How he’d said a few sappy things to me and I was like putty in his hands, perfectly willing to do what he wanted.

I
pushed him away, pushed him hard so he fell backwards, then I ran.

I
took off as fast I could, hoping he wouldn’t follow me. A mass of disappointment and pain built up inside me and I’d break down for sure if he kept talking. I needed to put as much distance as I could between us.

The
light had started to fade and I had no idea where I was going, just running wildly through the bush, branches scraping against my face. I thought I'd found a path but, as I ran along it, I tripped over something and fell onto my face. I cried out with the pain but there was no one to help me. I was all alone, with nothing but the cries of some animals and rustling in the bushes. That rustling noise had me jumping to my feet and running again.

In
the distance, I could see a light. It had to be the farmer's house. I ran towards it, hoping I could get home. And I'd leave Jack Colt alone to suffer.

The
drive back from the country had been hell. I'd hoped I could charge my phone and call Tamaki to pick me up but the old lady really didn't have a phone and she sure as hell didn't have a phone charger. Then I’d thought I could get a taxi until she told me there was only one taxi in town and the taxi driver had finished for the night. What sort of town didn’t even have a taxi? How did people live in a place like that?

She
hadn't seemed very concerned that we'd been missing. Surely she must have realised we'd been away for a long time. And Jack's car was still there so she’d known we hadn't left. When I'd gotten back there though, she had just taken me inside and made me a cup of tea. I hadn't realised how cold I'd actually been until the warmth of the fire thawed my body. I wrapped my hands around the cup of tea and took big sips to fill myself up.

“
Where's the young popinjay?” she'd asked.

I
shrugged.

“
Probably still at the old house, as far as I know.”

“
I'd better go get him then. The young fool will never find his way back himself.”

She
picked up a torch and headed out across the farm. I watched from the window as the circle of light she cast got smaller and smaller then disappeared.

While
I waited, I looked around the place. It was pretty basic. Well, it had all the necessities like running water and electricity and she even had one of those clunky old TVs. Even so, she hadn't been watching it but had been listening to the radio and washing up when I'd got there.

The
musty staleness of the years permeated the place but gave it a warmth I appreciated. Old faded photos of children sat in dusty frames on the mantlepiece, some with newer photos propped up against them. Some of groups. In amongst the photos sat a few ornaments of dogs and cats that had gotten dusty over time. I picked one up but had to make sure I returned to exactly the same position so the mark didn't show in the dust.

I
wondered how I should react to Jack when he got back. I could get angry. I could be disappointed. But what would it prove? He'd made his decision and that was that. He could obviously see a future without me in it. I had to admit, objectively, it made a lot of sense. Signing with a big agency would mean a lot to them. They'd have chances I could never give them. I mean, if I were them, I’d totally make the same decision and I knew this had been coming. But it hurt. It hurt as though a big hole had been ripped through me. Not just the decision, but the way Jack had told me. As though he needed to butter me up.

I
could see the light of the woman’s torch from the window. It looked as though I had no choice but to get back to the city with him.

In
the car, in that close space with nowhere to hide, I pretended to sleep but I was covered in insect bites. No matter how much I scratched, the irritation remained. It built up into a big ball of annoyance inside of me. I scratched my arms and then I scratched my legs, but the biggest irritation of all, I couldn’t scratch. I wanted to kick something or slam doors. But all I could do was sit there and scratch.

“
Hannah, we have to talk. Please let me explain,” Jack said.

But
I turned my back to him. I didn't want to listen to his lying words again. I wondered if I could jump out of the car and hitchhike home. Even a psychopath picking me up would be better than being with him. At least a psychopath wouldn't want to talk about his reasons for being mental.

After
a few attempts, Jack gave up. There was just silence in the car and I wished he'd put some music on at least. But he stared ahead, one hand on the wheel, the other leaning against the window frame. The only noises were the hum of the engine and the swish of other car's passing and my fingernails raking my skin. Ahead of us, the road stretched forever in a straight line.

I'd
scratched my legs so much that they bled in some places. But I kept scratching. The pain of scratching at least gave some relief, and I wished I could scratch my heart until it bled too. I couldn't imagine how it would end. Would we just shake hands and say goodbye and that would be it?

Finally,
I could see the haze of lights in the distance. It wouldn't take long to get to the city. But even with all the hate and resentment building up inside of me, even with the almost unbeatable desire to punch Jack Colt in the face and keep punching until I could punch no more, some tiny corner of my heart wanted this road trip to last forever. For it to be just me and Jack Colt, driving through the night.

As we got into the suburbs, Jack pulled up outside a shop.
He got out without saying anything and I figured he probably needed more cigarettes. He’d been smoking like demon all the way home.

I checked he couldn’t see me then
opened the glove box to check for that used condom tin. I didn’t really want to touch that thing but I had a crazy need to at least shake it and see how full it was.

There was no tin in the glove box though.
I searched on the floor of the car but couldn’t see anything but a discarded burger wrapper and a couple of crushed cigarette packets.

I’d just climbed up to check the backseat when Jack got back to the car.

“Lost something?”

I shook my head and sat back down, refastening my seat belt.

“Hey, you might want this. It’ll stop that bloody scratching.’

He handed me a paper bag with a tube of bite cream inside.
I stole a glance at him but he’d started up the car and was checking the side mirror so I couldn’t read his face.

“
Thanks,” I said, realising it was the most wonderful thing anyone could’ve given me at that moment.

He didn’t answer.

When we got to my place, I jumped out of the car without a word. I had nothing to say to that man.

After
I had a shower and covered myself in bite cream, my phone had recharged enough for me to check my messages.

A
few from Angie with apologies for sending us to our deaths. One from Dad asking to call him back, a wrong number and a few more confirming dates for gigs.

I
didn't want to deal with all that though. I wanted sympathy and comfort and someone to tell me it was all okay. I knew where I could get it too, so I went next door to visit Tamaki.

I
told him about my day stuck in the woods.

“
You should've called me,” he said.

He
poured me a drink and I settled on the sofa that was pretty much the same as mine. I noticed he'd printed out a picture of Vicious and had sat it on the table.

“
My phone was flat. We called Angie but she didn't get the message until later because she was in the edit suite at her school with her phone on silent. Still, it all ended okay. Except I'm sore in every muscle from running over those bush tracks.”

“
Wait, I have something you can use.”

He
returned from the bedroom with a packet, which he opened. He took out a strip of something and removed the backing then placed it on my shoulders. It felt hot yet cold and tingling. I squirmed from the sensation.

“
Lift up your top and I'll put one on your lower back.”

Again
, I squirmed.

“
Are you sure these will work? Because they feel weird and they smell funny.”

“
They are the best. Our housekeeper used to put them on my back when I was young.”

I
smiled at Tamaki. We really were a lot alike. He'd had a housekeeper looking after him too.

“
Our housekeeper would rub stuff on my chest. Weird stuff her mother used to make. I don't know what it was but she swore by it. It always fixed me up too. What happened with your mother? Is she around?”

Tamaki
poured another drink.

“
She left, when I was young. I don't remember her much. She ran off and I haven't seen her since. She wanted a life away from my dad. He can be a bit controlling.”

I
nodded. I'd picked that up within minutes of meeting him. Still, it seemed awful that his mother had never tried to see him or get in touch.

Tamaki
took a sip of his drink and looked away. Hesitant as though he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

“
My father never loved her,” he said. “He was still in love with someone he'd met before her. It was very difficult for my mother.”

“
Why didn't he marry the other woman?” I asked.

“
She wasn't suitable. At that time, the woman worked in a club, the sort of club rich men went to. Of course, my father had to marry the right kind of woman. He was trying to establish himself and he needed the right connections. My mother had those connections. “

“
It must have been hard for your mother.”

Tamaki
shook his head.

“
It was never meant to be a marriage of love though. She should not have left. She failed in her duty to my father.”

“
Do you miss your mother?” I asked.

“
Sometimes. Sometimes I catch a smell of a perfume and that reminds me of her. She would come in my room to tuck me in and that perfume she wore would linger. I think she left Japan. Maybe she had to and she can't come back. Because of my father. He was so very angry when she left.”

“
The smell of cookies sometimes makes me think of my mother. She would always be baking. I loved the taste of those cookies. I've never tasted anything like them since.”

I
sighed.

“
My mother never made me cookies. Not that I can remember. Sometimes the housekeeper made them for me. But all the other kids, their mothers made them bento for lunch. Have you seen the bento for kids? They are amazing with pictures made out of food and decorated with things like carrots cut into hearts. I never had a bento made by mother.”

When
he said that, I wanted to do something. Stroke his hair or hold his hand. Something to make him feel better. He didn't say anything but I could imagine a young Tamaki, deserted by his mother and left all alone. How he'd have cried out in the night and there would’ve been no one to comfort him. How he'd looked have around on sports days at school for someone in the crowd but there'd been no one or maybe an employee but not family. How he'd have had to keep things inside and be strong, stronger than anyone.

They
were the things I’d felt too. I put my hand over his and wanted to tell him I understood but, when I looked into his eyes, I knew I didn’t need to use words. That bond, it was there. It made sense how he was so weird and possessive at times and how he’d been so upset about Vicious. It wasn’t about both being rich, it was about us both having grown up with the same burden. I’d never have to explain my pain to Tamaki – and I’d never have it dismissed or laughed at because rich people aren’t supposed to have pain.

“
My mother died when I was young,” I said. “My father never married again. I wonder if things would have been different if she'd been alive. If my father would have been more normal.”

Tamaki
nodded.

“
I guess you'll never know. Your father rang me today. He wanted me to tell you to get in touch with him if I saw you. Have you heard from him?”

I
nodded. I'd got the message but I hadn't called him back. There was no point calling him just yet. I had something I wanted to do, and if I could do it, then I'd call him. Hopefully, that would make everything right.

I
slipped off my shoes and put my feet up on the couch.

“
Your poor legs,” Tamaki said, running his fingers over the insect bites. “But you shouldn't have scratched them.”

I
shrugged. My legs looked awful though. All covered in red and swollen spots, with grazes from the bushes making lines across them.

“
That man should've protected you.”

“
Tamaki, about the engagement…”

A
look of anxiety flitted over his face but he replaced it with a smile.

“
… if you still want to go through with it, then yes. Yes, I'll marry you.”