Deceive (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #2) (8 page)

I felt my eyebrows pinch together. “Why not?”

“No reason, I guess.” Her voice was full of stress and her eyes brimmed with concern.

I cupped her cheek. “There is a reason, what is it?”

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Please don’t”—she inhaled deeply—”don’t make me explain. Not now.”

I hated seeing her in this much pain—especially knowing it was my fault, even though I didn’t know the reason. “Okay. No explanations necessary tonight. But when you are ready, I’ll be here.”

“I hope so,” she whispered.

“No, not
hope so
,” I replied. I lifted her chin so I was looking directly into her eyes. “Alyssa, when you’re ready. I
will
be here.”

She looked deep into my eyes as if trying to hunt out the lie.

I wanted her to believe, to understand. I kept eye contact. “I am not going anywhere.” I emphasised each word, hoping she would believe me.

She nodded. “Okay.”

I pressed my lips gently to hers again. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me when you are ready for me to come over.”

She smiled. “Okay, Declan, and . . . thanks.”

She threw herself into my arms and kissed me goodbye properly.

I shot her a quick smile as we pulled apart. She stepped back and leaned against the washing machine for support. Her lips were twisted into a goofy smile and her eyes seemed to scream of the things she wanted to do.

I knew the feeling.

Breaking away from the spell of her gaze, I walked to the car on shaky legs. When I reached it, I checked that the seats and carpet were dry, and wound the windows up. There was a slight lingering smell, but if it moved Alyssa and me on to the next step, the cleaning bill would be a small sacrifice to make.

“MUM, I’M home,” I called as I entered the house.

“How’d it go?” she replied from the kitchen.

“Good.” I walked up behind her. “Actually, no, not just good. Great.” I leaned against the kitchen bench, not willing to jump up and risk a repeat of the morning.

“That’s good. Did you all have fun?”

I laughed. Vomit, attitude, and McDonald’s weren’t really my idea of
fun
but it was a good night regardless.

Mum turned slightly to look at me. “What happened to your shirt? That wasn’t the one you wore was it? It’s too big on you.”

Nice,
I thought. Of course she would notice that. “Phoebe got sick in the car.”

“Oh no, is she all right?” The concern and love in her voice was evident.

“Apparently she’ll be fine; she just had too much to drink.”

Mum nodded.

We lapsed into silence for a few minutes, the only noise being the sloshing of the dishwater as she washed up.

“Are you still ’right to watch Phoebe on Saturday?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Definitely.”

“And you really don’t mind?”

“No, I really don’t mind. Why?”

“Alyssa just said something about you not usually watching Phoebe on weekends.”

She shrugged and the dishes in front of her were suddenly very interesting. “I guess I haven’t. I’ve never thought about it too much.”

Her voice was a little too dismissive, her actions a little too blunt. She was lying.

“Bullshit,” I said. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Declan, please! Watch your language,” she snapped. She grabbed a tea towel and dried her hands. She threw it onto the bench. “And I said there wasn’t a reason.”

“Mum, cut the crap and tell me.”

“Just leave it.” She stalked out of the kitchen.

Half a minute later, I heard a door slam down the other end of the hall. I sat stunned for a few seconds. I tried to remember a time Mum had ever snapped like that before. There was more to this fucking situation than everyone was telling me. It made me more determined than ever to find out what it was but there was no fucking way I was going to walk into Mum and Dad’s room just then to find out. I didn’t know if Dad was home or not, and Mum was obviously in no mood to talk.

I looked at the half-washed dishes and decided to try my best to finish them. I hadn’t been lying to Alyssa when I said I was clueless. Usually, I just ate with the team or grabbed something on the way home. I didn’t cook and I certainly didn’t clean. Like everything I didn’t want to do, I just paid people to do it for me. Just then though, I wanted to help Mum in whatever way I could. At least it would be one less thing for her to stress over later. I left the pots because I had no fucking clue how to clean them, but did the glasses and plates and left it all to air dry in the drainer beside the sink.

After I’d finished, I locked up the front door and poured myself a glass of Dad’s whiskey, on the rocks. I took it to the bedroom and locked the door behind me. Then I spent the next little while reliving the memory of the things I’d done with Alyssa in London.

CHAPTER EIGHT: JAMMED

HAVING SLEPT THROUGH yet another uninterrupted night, I woke late on Thursday morning. I didn’t know what it was about being home, but I hadn’t slept so restfully for nearly four years. I was so used to the insomnia, the constant waking, and the nightmares, that it felt almost hedonistic to get so much sleep.

In fact, it left me feeling fantastic and ready to face the world. I grabbed the empty glass that’d held the whiskey from my bedside table and headed toward the kitchen. I was halfway down the hall when I heard Mum’s voice in a hushed whisper.

“No, don’t worry. He won’t be here over the weekend. He’s got other plans.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and listened to the one-sided conversation.

“I know. It’ll be fine. In fact it’ll be nice spending some time with her.” Mum paused then said reassuringly, “Yeah, I’m sure.” Her voice dropped even lower. “Listen, I know it’s not my place but I’m glad you two are trying. You are good for him.” She gasped. “He didn’t.”

I walked a little further so Mum could see me. Her eyes widened slightly with surprise and she abruptly said goodbye and hung up the phone.

“Who was that?” I asked, trying to sound politely disinterested. I had a very strong suspicion I knew
exactly
who it was, but I wanted to see if Mum would lie about it.

“It was just Alyssa,” she replied.

“What, were you two getting your stories straight? Making sure you know exactly what to tell me?” All this secrets and lies bullshit was beginning to grate on my nerves.

“It’s not like that,” she objected. “She just wanted to make sure I was okay to watch Phoebe.”

Narrowing my eyes, I assessed her carefully. She clearly wasn’t going to give me any extra information even if I pushed hard on the issue. I shrugged. “Whatever.”

I banged the glass on the bench, causing Mum to jump a little. She was definitely wound up. “A parcel arrived for you,” she said, no doubt to distract me. She pointed to a huge-arse box near the front door.

Walking to the box she’d pointed out, I checked the sender’s address and smiled. Danny had come through for me, like he always did, but I couldn’t believe he’d paid for overnight freight on it. Then again, knowing Danny it would probably come off my next pay cheque.

The sight of the parcel made me think about the team. The time off, reconnecting with Alyssa—even if we were still a little up in the air—it all felt fantastic, but I was also ready to go home. I was ready to return. In fact, with the newfound knowledge of Alyssa’s upcoming move, I was actually anxious to return to Sydney.

We could begin again there—together. I wanted to celebrate the progress we’d made. I wanted to shout from the rooftops that Alyssa and I were going to be together. The sentiment was fucking miles ahead of where we actually were, but I was certain we would get there. Our date had been proof of that. Despite the disasters, we’d managed. We would manage. We would face the world together.

The love that still existed between Alyssa and me despite the hurt was evident in everything we did. It would overcome our issues, I was sure it would.

Then there was the chemistry.
That
was going to kill me before long, but the exquisite torture was worth it. I wondered how much longer I could be in her presence without dragging her to the bedroom, caveman style.

In fact, just thinking about her filled my mind with visions of our time together—and what visions. It was hard to believe that we’d only been together twice. I’d slept with a couple of casual flings more than that. But Alyssa was no casual fling, and she was worth waiting for.

Every second of our time together was etched permanently into my memory, whereas all the other girls melded into a blur of remorse. If I could take back every one of them I would, but I couldn’t. All I could do was prove to Alyssa she was all I ever wanted. All I would ever want. And I had a few ideas of how to do it.

Pulling open the box that Danny had sent, I grinned at the contents. A note rested on the top of the pile with Danny’s handwriting.

All organised for Saturday as requested.

At the sight, I desperately wanted it to be Saturday already. The thought brought me back to the present, to the secrets Mum and Alyssa were hiding. I took the parcel down to my room and dropped it on the bed before heading back out to Mum. “I’m going for a shower. I need to go to Alyssa’s later to get my shirt.”

“Okay.”

“And Saturday’s definitely okay?”

“Definitely.”

I walked straight into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Something was happening and it was starting to get on my nerves. Why were they trying to hide whatever the fuck it was? I showered and dried off as fast as I could.

Wrapping the towel around my waist, I walked back into my room to find some clothes, formulating a plan as I went. Mum had said “he” wouldn’t be here. I knew she wasn’t referring to me because Alyssa knew my
plans. There was only one other he I could think of, and I needed to know why it mattered whether Dad was here. I dressed in a pair of slacks and a short-sleeved shirt; I needed to be presentable for a visit to the city.

When I walked back into the kitchen, the glass was gone from the counter. It was an additional indicator that something was wrong—Mum always cleaned when she was nervous.

“I was thinking about talking to Dad about some possible investments. Is he free on the weekend?”

“No, he’s going away for business tomorrow night. He won’t be back until Tuesday,” Mum said, with a degree of caution. I think she was waiting for the “inevitable” explosion and demands that she tell me what was going on.

I wasn’t going to give her that though. It was clear I’d get more information through subterfuge than outright honesty. “Oh, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to go into his office to talk to him. I really wanted to get this sorted.”

“Sure thing, dear,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be able to fit you in. Just give the office a call first and make an appointment. He’ll be glad to know you’re willing to start doing something with your money.”

I resisted the eye-roll. There was a fucking team of brokers that worked for Sinclair Racing and handled that shit for me. I was sure they were ten times better than any two-bit banker could be—even if that two-bit banker was my father.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to call first,” I said, knowing full well I wouldn’t.

“By the way, Alyssa said she’s free whenever you are ready, if that means anything to you.”

I nodded. Although I was glad she’d called early to ask me over—it meant she was as anxious to see me as I was to see her—I couldn’t see her just yet. She’d asked me not to push her about the situation with Mum, and I wanted to respect that request, but I knew if I went over there right away, I
would
push her. Whatever was happening, I had a goddamned right to know. It was easier to wait for a few hours until I had it sorted before going to Alyssa’s.

And I would fucking get it sorted.

“If she calls back, can you tell her I’ll be over later? I just have some errands to run first.”

Mum’s gaze shot to me. “Errands?”

“Oh, you know, I still need a couple more outfits if I’m going to be here until I’m due back for testing.”

“When’s that?”

“January.”

“You’re staying until January?” Mum asked. Her shock was clear in her voice. It occurred to me that we’d never discussed exactly how long I’d be in town for, and I hadn’t really asked for permission to stay.

I dropped my head, suddenly worried that maybe she wouldn’t want me around for that long. “Yeah. Well . . . I mean . . . if it’s all right with you, I’d like to.”

She walked over to me, placing one hand on either cheek and pulling my face down to look at her. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I just didn’t realise you’d be here through Christmas.”

Christmas
? Holy fuck. I hadn’t thought about Christmas. I felt the colour drain from my face.

My first Christmas as a father.

My first Christmas with a family.

How the hell was I going to do that? Would Alyssa expect me to dress up as Santa and all that shit? Would we have to spend time at her family’s house? The thought of it terrified me. Alone with Josh and “killer” Curtis. Worse—
Ruby
. I knew I would have to face them all sooner or later, but frankly later suited me just fine.

Before I could go into panic mode, I cut off the thoughts. Christmas was still a month and a half away, I could worry about it then. For the moment, I needed to focus on the here and now, otherwise I risked screwing things up with Alyssa again. In the here and now, I needed to find out what the fuck was going on between Alyssa, Mum, and Dad.

“Well, if that’s settled,” I said, stepping out of Mum’s grasp, “I’m just going to go . . . run those errands.”

She furrowed her brow at my evasiveness, but just said, “Sure.”

I climbed into the hire car to head into the city. The smell of the vomit was worse than it had been the night before. Winding down all the windows, I hoped to get some fresh air through the car.

As I turned onto the motorway, the wind swept through my hair. I drove for all of ten minutes before I came to a grinding halt in the last dredges of peak-hour traffic. The sun beat through my windscreen and I cursed myself for the clothing choices I had made. Not that I’d had much choice in the matter, with my limited supply.

I glanced over at the car next to me to see someone staring slack-jawed through their window. Once I’d glanced in their direction, they waved frantically and the passenger rolled down their window.

“You’re Declan Reede, aren’t you?” they shouted across the divide between our cars.

Fuck me
. During my time in Sydney, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be anonymous. My time in London and in Browns Plains had almost brought it back to me. Especially the last few days with Alyssa. I’d felt normal again—just a boy trying to woo his girl. It was nice. I hadn’t realised how nice until that moment, sitting in a car that was the equivalent of a fishbowl. A small, Barina-shaped fishbowl at that. All around me, people’s gazes seemed to light up with recognition. I sank deeper into my seat, trying to hide away from them.

The worst part was that I hadn’t thought to remove the child seat, so it was sitting in the back of the car as evidence of my new life. I could almost hear the thoughts of everyone around me as they pondered the development. The gossip mill was already starting to grind around me. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I wanted to avoid that part of my life coming anywhere near Alyssa or Phoebe. I had two choices: I could either leave the windows down and endure the stares, or wind them up and allow the lingering smell of vomit to cycle through the air-conditioning. Either way, I was going to be stuck in traffic for a while yet and both choices had their drawbacks.

In the end, the sun made my decision for me. By the time the traffic had crawled halfway into the city, it was too fucking hot to have the windows down any longer. Sighing, I raised the windows up and set the climate control, adjusting it to as low a temp as I could. Ducking my head, I let the cool breeze from the vents run through my sweat drenched hair. When I caught sight of myself in the rear-view mirror, at the mess my hair had become, I tugged my hand through it a few times to try to tame the unruly strands, but nothing seemed to work.

After a while, I gave up and simply rested my head in my hand and leaned my elbow against the driver’s window, contemplating just what the fuck I was doing. Yeah, I was heading into the city, but to do what exactly? Walk up to my father’s work and ask him the questions I was dying for an answer to? Could I do that? Should I?

I flicked the radio on to distract me. If I allowed myself to overthink it, I might never find out what was going on. I’d never know why Mum didn’t usually have Phoebe on the weekends. Why Alyssa had called to check that it was okay, and why Mum had needed to reassure her.

The car inched forward along the highway and I felt my courage dissipating a little more with every passing minute. The radio did nothing to quell the doubts creeping into my mind or the sick sensation in my stomach.

My phone rang loudly in my pocket and vibrated against my leg, causing me to startle a little. I gathered my bearings, pulled my mobile from my pocket, and pushed Answer before flicking it on to speaker.

“Hello?”

“Declan. It’s Dr. Henrikson. I’m calling for our appointment.”

“Oh fuck, Doc, I forgot.”

He chuckled a little. “Is now a convenient time? Or would you like me to call back?”

“No, now’s fine. Or at least, it’s as good a time as any other.”

“Perfect. So what would you like to talk about today?”

I rolled my eyes.
Where do I begin?
“You’re the shrink. You tell me what we should talk about.”

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about Alyssa?”

She was a topic he’d been itching to discuss in Sydney, and I’d always shut him down. His constant prompting to talk about her was the reason I’d stopped seeing him. No matter how many times I’d told him she was off limits, he wanted to know more. Now, he’d get his wish. “Like what?”