Deception (19 page)

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Nothing. Jake just talks in his sleep sometimes.” I walk towards Jake’s room and thump on the door. “Jake buddy, wake up. You’re talking in your sleep again and scaring our guests.”

He cries out and Roxi’s eyes widen in alarm. “Maybe you should go in and wake him up, he sounds a little distressed.”

“No, that’s not a good idea, trust me.” I thump on the door again, hoping he’ll get the message. But this time Sarah calls out and there’s no mistaking it’s a woman’s voice.

Roxi’s jaw drops and her face is scarlet. “Oh my God, am I hearing what I think I’m hearing?”

“Yeah, sorry about this,” I shake my head, laughing to ease the awkward tension. Rather than running off horrified, she surprises me by moving closer, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I’d love to know what’s going through her mind right now.

“So that’s what it’s like,” she says under her breath.
What’s she talking about? What sex is like?
She’s obviously not a virgin, she has a kid.

“What what’s like?” I whisper, although I have no idea why we’re talking in such low tones. It’s not as though Jake and Sarah are mindful of anything that is going on around them right now.

She glances at me briefly, then at the door, as if trying to see right through it. “What it sounds like to actually enjoy sex.” The longing I see in her, far outweighs any embarrassment she may feel. Her eyes water around the edges and I swear I see a slight tremble at the strength of her emotion. I realise in that moment, not only has Roxi been treated beyond terrible, but she hasn’t been worshipped the way she should be in a very long time.

Leaning forward, I gently push the hair back off her face. “He was a fool for not adoring you the way you deserve. You’re gorgeous.” My lips hover over hers, as sexual tension thickens the air, intoxicating me. I can almost taste her. I slide my hands through the length of her hair and run my nose along the side of her neck, breathing in her scent. Appreciating her; not taking advantage of her like
him
. I’m not like
him
. I’m starting to see that now. I’d never intentionally cause all that pain. What I did was an accident. She sighs, as she sinks into my touch. 

“Mummy, what’s that noise? Is Jake okay?” Ricky’s voice startles us and we jump apart, our moment broken. His eyes are wide, as Roxi scrambles to get him away.

I’m definitely going to have to talk to Jake again.

“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.”  - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Roxi

“J
ake is fine honey, he just had his TV up too loud.” I struggle to keep my voice steady. Warmth from Luke’s closeness still lingers, tingles cover my scalp. I hold on to Ricky to balance myself and close my eyes a moment, savouring the feeling.

Luke’s woodsy scent overwhelmed me, another centimetre and he would have been pressing his lips against mine. I exhale, shaking my head to remove the thought. He was probably just being nice, trying to make me feel better. How pathetic I must have looked, almost crying over the sound of his housemate having hot sex.

“You want some breakfast sweetie? I saw cocoa pops in the cupboard.” I turn on the TV with the volume up high enough to drown out Jake and his guest. Hopefully they’ll be done soon. I’m not happy Ricky is subject to hearing that kind of thing, but it’s not like I can complain, when they’re generous enough to let us stay here, it’s their house, after all.

I feel bad taking the last of the cereal and make a note to get another box for the guys, when Luke takes me grocery shopping today. “Ricky, come sit up at the table while you eat.”

He continues to fixate on a cartoon that’s playing, Ben 10 I think I’ve heard him calling it. “Do I have to Mum? I’m gonna miss my show,” he whines.

Luke comes in and takes the bowl, passing it down to Ricky. “We always eat on the couch here, especially when Ben 10’s on.” He turns back around and winks at me. It’s only a small thing, but to me it’s a huge deal. Eating breakfast in front of the telly, watching cartoons, like every kid should get to experience, like Ricky never has. I smile wide.

“Thank you,” I show my gratitude as he walks back towards me with his own porridge bowl in his hands.

“No worries, so I take it Ricky’s staying home from school until they find your husband?” he questions. I wince at the reference to husband, at the fact that I’m still linked to that cruel man so intimately.

“Yeah. There’s no way I’m letting him out of my sight any time soon. There’s a lady coming out to the house to chat with Ricky in a couple of days. The officer I spoke to at the station yesterday thinks he might be more comfortable talking in an environment he’s slightly more familiar with, or will be at the time. From what I told them yesterday, they said there should be no problems as to why I can’t get a permanent protection order in place.” I’m worried that a piece of paper won’t stop Joseph from harming us again, if he can find us. I don’t voice my concerns though. I’m worried to even think them, let alone speak them, as if saying it out aloud will make it more likely to happen.

Luke must pick up on the stress that I’m sure shows all over my face. “They’re going to find him Roxi, and in the meantime, I’m on holidays for the next month. He’s not getting anywhere near either of you, while I’m around.”

Ricky gasps from over near the couch and at first I think he’s been listening to our conversation, but then I see his bowl tipped over on the cushion, mess everywhere. “I didn’t mean to,” he cries. He blinks rapidly in an effort not to cry, waiting for the reprimand he’s used to receiving from his father, when he has an accident.

“Hey buddy, no need to cry over spilt milk. It can all be easily cleaned,” Luke gently informs him. Ricky sniffles and looks at him still unsure. “This room is used to being a disaster zone. In fact, Jake and I have some of the most epic food fights ever in here.”

“You do?” Ricky brightens.

“Oh yeah,” Luke replies mischievously. With a grin on his face, he picks up a big spoonful of porridge and flings it right at my face. Ricky erupts into giggles, until Luke quietens him by throwing a big glob; which lands on his cheek. “Food fight!” Luke yells.

Ricky runs around the room laughing and even jumps on the couch, taunting Luke, then ducking to hide. I dive under the table, peeking out at Ricky’s elated face.

“Get mummy, get mummy,” Ricky chants.

Luke strides towards me, a predatory gleam in his eye, all confident and sexy. My heart thuds in my chest and I know I should run the other way; not play this flirtatious game with him. But I want to be captured.
Stupid heart.

He crouches down to my level and instead of flicking more porridge off the spoon he scoops it out of the bowl and rubs it over the side of my face. “Gotcha,” He rasps. His fingers trail slowly down my cheek, lingering around my mouth.

“Got me,” I breathe. His thumb rubs over my bottom lip, and I can’t help but sweep my tongue over the top of it, tasting it. It’s all porridge, sweet and salty from his skin. His eyes go wide and he sucks in a breath, holding it, watching my every move. Drawing his thumb into my mouth, I swirl my tongue around the tip, enjoying his reaction.

Abruptly, he stands up, bumping his head on the table top. “I need a shower,” he says as he starts to walk away. “A cold one,” I hear him add under his breath.

“But you didn’t even get any porridge on you, silly,” Ricky states.

“Sure I did.” He picks up the remainder of the porridge and tips it over his head, and I love him for it. For acting so ridiculous just to make Ricky and I feel more welcome, for all the small gestures that send little flutters through me.

My supposedly platonic friend is slowly working his way into my heart, making it sing again, and I’ve never heard music so sweet. I just have to remind it to stop playing those mushy love songs. Unfortunately, the only beat it should be playing is to the tune of friendship.

I’m floating on air though, and my head’s in the clouds. It isn’t sending the message where it is required to go. I need to turn this radio off and fast, before it has the chance to break.

It wouldn’t be sensible for me to jump from one guy to the next. I need to learn to be on my own two feet again, to be independent.

I get a wet washer and clean Ricky and me up, then start wiping up the mess. I’m leaning over the couch trying to wipe up the milk as best as I can, when Luke walks back out in gym shorts, drying his hair with a towel. I keep my eyes glued to the couch but it’s like his body is a magnetic force, pulling my eyes upwards and on to his abs, his amazingly sculpted abs.

“Roxi, what are you doing?”

I pry my eyes away from his stomach and up to his face. “Cleaning.”

“Get off your knees, Roxi.” He reaches down to my wrists and pulls me up. “We talked about this, remember? You don’t have to go cleaning up after me. I’m the one who threw the food all over the place. I’m perfectly capable of picking it up.” I gulp; his hands still on my arms and his half naked body making my stomach flip.

I feel the chuckle that rumbles in his chest, it vibrates through me and settles low in my belly. “Roxi, take a breath or you’re going to pass out.” My cheeks flame and I stand back, putting some distance between us. The air rushes out of me and I laugh nervously.

I’m a lot more comfortable around him when I’m in my element, running and exercising. It’s not like I can do that now, though. For one thing, I have no one to look after Ricky. Secondly, it’s probably not safe. Joseph is still out there somewhere. What I wouldn’t give right now, to feel the wind hitting my face and my feet pounding the pavement, to clear my head, to run and be free, even if it is only for a half an hour jog.

“So are you going out for your run?” I ask, indicating his gym shorts and joggers.

“Actually, I have some boxing gear out back I was going to use. I know your arm’s still sore, but you’re welcome to come out and do some kicks, if you’re interested.” I don’t know if I can survive watching him box with no shirt on, just the thought is turning my legs to jelly, which would probably make kicking difficult. I want to look capable in front of people while I work out. Exercising is the one thing I know I’m good at. I take great satisfaction in my athletic abilities, I work hard for them, pride myself on them. And I don’t pride myself on a lot, my self-worth is basically non-existent.

I chew on my bottom lip, hesitant, but still craving a good work out. “Come on,” he persuades me. “I think it would be wise to learn a little self-defence at the moment, as well.”

“Sure, just let me get changed and I’ll meet you out there.” I turn to Ricky, “You okay, watching TV for a little bit longer, while Mummy does some boxing, kiddo?” He nods his head without looking up. I laugh, “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll only be a minute, Luke.”

I go get changed into my workout gear, thankful that I splurged on it. Exercise and reading are the two things other than Ricky that I can’t live without.

The TV is off, as I walk back past and I hurry to the deck to ask Luke if he knows where Ricky went. I find them both playfully sparing out the back, Ricky in gloves way too big for his tiny hands and way too cute for words. He bops Luke on the nose and Luke pretends to fall down. “You got me, nice work.” Ricky beams up at him and my heart melts a little in gratitude. This is just what Ricky needs, all the small things. To know that people care, that there’s a world beyond what we’ve been stuck in with his father the past five years. And I need it too.

Luke sets up a punching bag for Ricky and we do some laps of his backyard to warm up. It’s not a huge area, but enough space to get the blood pumping before we work out. Luke holds the pad while I do a series of kicks, lunges and squats. My legs burn, but I push through the pain. I feel in control. I can breathe again.

*****

A
s the rest of the week passes I feel more at ease, yet become more on edge at the same time. My new routine and surroundings are becoming more familiar and comfortable, however Joseph still hasn’t been found and I feel trapped here.

I gave the police the names of all of Joseph’s friends and a list of places he could be hiding, but he still manages to evade them. Ricky can’t go on missing school forever, so I’ve set up a meeting with the teacher for Monday to explain the situation and get her thoughts. I’m nervous and embarrassed to have to share with her what Ricky’s home life has really been like. I’m worried she might think less of us. I’m anxious at the effects everything will have on Ricky, not just directly but indirectly too.
Will people treat us differently when they find out?

The protection order has come through, but it doesn’t make me feel any safer. Joseph doesn’t even know it exists, and nor would he care. He already tried to burn us alive. I doubt he would pay attention to any legal document.

After Ricky goes to bed every night, Luke and I have fallen into the habit of watching Palm Valley together. Well I watch it. Luke swears he’s just watching to make fun of the overacting and drama of it all. He says it gives him a good laugh. I think he secretly enjoys it, or maybe I just hope that he secretly likes spending the time with me.

It’s Friday night, and I’m kind of sad that Palm Valley doesn’t air on the weekends. I’m sure Luke will have better things to do when all his mates are off work anyway. Maybe I’ll take Ricky over to Rachel and Mark’s, so he can play with Lachlan while we watch the football game.

Luke’s making seal sounds on the other side of the couch, flapping his arms like flippers and imitating the animal, or more accurately the girl on the TV. Tears escape from the corners of my eyes as I laugh uncontrollably. I’ve never been sad and happy at the same time, not even with pregnancy hormones. “Stop it, you’re killing me, it’s meant to be a sad scene, she just discovered her boyfriend’s cheating on her.”

“That’s exactly what she sounds like when she sobs, and you know it. It’s ridiculous,” he justifies. I swat him over the arm and he latches onto my wrist, pulling me to him. My laughter dies in my throat and my breathing stops, as he wipes away my tears. “See it’s not sad, you’re laughing so hard, your practically about to wet your pants.” I may be getting damp, but it’s not because I can’t control my bladder, it’s more like I can’t control my hormones around him. This close proximity drives me crazy and I can’t get enough.