Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3) (2 page)

I love you, Lys. I always have and that will never, ever stop, even if the reverse isn’t true.

Yours forever,

Declan.
 

Once I was happy with the words, I rewrote the letter a number of times. I didn’t care how many tears I shed over the pages. When I was done, I folded each of the copies up and placed them in envelopes ready to send to any address with even the loosest connection to Alyssa. I didn’t know if it would be enough to get her to understand, but I had to try something. I couldn’t just let her go without some fight, however pathetic it might be.

With that task done, and the purpose it had instilled in me burned out, I made a fresh move toward the alcohol. Plucking the bottle from the floor, I balanced it in the crook of my elbow. Then, reaching into my liquor cabinet above the wet bar, and the bar fridge below, I gathered up every bottle. Without letting myself think about what I was doing, or feel guilty for what came next, I carried them upstairs.

The mere sight of the drinks tempted me, calling to me like a mistress and begging me to give in.

Just a little bit.

The bottom of each bottle held the promise of oblivion and a temporary peace. Not long ago, I wouldn’t have even paused before draining every single drop in a desperate attempt to find that momentary forgetfulness.

Even as the thought of the numbness I could achieve entered my mind, Alyssa’s words from the day we made our agreement replaced it. They ran through my mind as the bottles clinked together in my arms. “
This is what I fucking mean about trust. One thing goes wrong and you fucking drink yourself into oblivion and end up in hospital. I mean Christ, what if I’d left for the night or didn’t hear that bottle smash. You could have been fucking dead. How would I explain that to Phoebe? How could I tell her that her father died in a fucking alcohol binge session because one thing didn’t go his fucking way?
”

As much as I wanted to drink it—all of it—I couldn’t.

I couldn’t do it to Alyssa or Phoebe.

I couldn’t do it to
myself
.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I headed for the bathroom and lined the bottles up in a row on the floor. The longer they were in the house, the stronger their siren call would become. I had just enough reason left to be certain I wasn’t strong enough to resist for long.

Even as I stared at the bottles, there was a small voice in the back of my head that whispered to me, working to convince me to keep just one
bottle aside. To drink just a little. Whispering that I could stop after one.

A little bit wouldn’t hurt. One glass. One sip.

Something.

Anything.

Tuning out the voice as best as I could, I shifted so that I was standing next to the line-up of booze. One by one, I picked up the bottles and hurled them into the bathtub. I flinched away as the bottle exploded on impact, sending shards of glasses flying around the tub.

The sound of the glass crashing and the liquid glugging down the drain filled me with a sick sense of purpose. Each smash brought back another memory of Alyssa, or of Phoebe. Of things that I’d done in the precious time that I’d had with them. Such a minute amount of time out of my whole twenty-two years, and I’d lost it again already.

The images raced on repeat.

Our family trip to McDonalds.
Smash.

My date nights with Alyssa.
Crash.

The trip to the track where I was able to show Alyssa the reason for my passion toward V8s, and thought she’d finally understood.

The last thought stopped me cold. Mid-throw, I held on to the bottle of vodka. That trip to the track was the one
Gossip Weekly
had featured in their exposé. The private moment Alyssa and I had shared, on display for the whole of Australia to fucking see. My hands shook as the happy memory burned at the edges. The bottle in my hand weighed more and more with every passing second.

The voice in my head screamed that it would be a lighter load if I just pressed the neck to my lips. If I drank down a draught—just a shot—of the clear liquid, it would make things better. It would ease the pain that surged through my body. Lessen the ache in my heart. Shake the memories from my head.

It would be one tiny step toward oblivion.

Toward peace.

It was so fucking tempting it was ridiculous.

One. Just one sip. Now.

Do it!

Sucking in a deep breath, I tossed the bottle across the bathroom just like I had all the rest. It landed higher than the others had, smashing into the tiles on the wall behind the tub. When it broke, I fell to my knees on the cold tiles and buried my face in my hands.

What have I done?

The voice in my mind cried a lament for the loss of my salvation and kicked off the chain reaction that threatened to drive off the last of my sanity. My chest constricted, my heart sped, and I couldn’t focus on anything but the rising panic clawing at my throat—the beast the alcohol would have appeased. Closing my eyes, I ran my affirming mantra through my head.
I can get through this; I’ve had one before and I made it through then. I can get through this; I’ve had one before and I made it through then
.

It barely worked, but barely was enough. After another couple of calming breaths, I stood. Without another glance, I turned my back on the alcohol-stained, glass-filled tub to drag myself into my bedroom.

I’d intended to cocoon myself under my blankets, but simply stepping foot into that room filled the space with inescapable memories. Ghosts of the past rose up to surround me, boxing me in with my own regret. The gasps and wanton cries of so many random screws flooded the space around me. Although I preferred my conquests far away from my private areas, there were still plenty that had made it through the door. Who’d given themselves to the great Declan Reede to do with as he pleased.

Fuck
.

It was no wonder Alyssa was gone. No wonder she didn’t want to put up with my shit anymore. I was poison of the worst kind. Even though I hadn’t cheated on her while we’d been together, I’d done it so often in the time we were apart. Each time I’d bedded a new woman, it was always a way to stave away visions of Alyssa for just one more night. Even when I hadn’t admitted it to myself, I loved her. And yet, I’d fucked them all.

Fucking arse!

Needing a place as dark as I was inside, I squeezed into a tight corner in the back of my wardrobe, shutting out both light and life. It hid me from the ghosts and the demons that haunted my bedroom and quietened the cacophony of remembered moans in my mind.

Safely tucked away, I let the pain take me. Every tear I’d ever held in. Every curse I’d ever bitten back. Every bit of pain and agony that I’d ever suppressed came to the surface. A wave of remorse so powerful it threatened to wipe away every piece of me rose up, and I curled in on myself, letting it sweep me into the abyss.

Four years of wasted life ripped into my chest like a monster from a childhood nightmare, tearing me apart at the seams.

My throat was dry and ached with my need for a drink. My lips were parched and no matter how many times I wet them, they ached. Only booze would soothe the fire, but I’d smashed every bottle and lost every drop.

Fucking idiot! How could you be so stupid?

The pounding in my head crashed against my skull so hard that it rattled my mind and left me breathless.

Flashes of the life I’d missed with Phoebe rushed through me. The mistrust Alyssa had shown me—the look in her eyes whenever she didn’t believe my promise that I wouldn’t leave again—raced through my mind. Thoughts of my son, Emmanuel, and the fact I’d never hold him in my arms like I might have been able to if I’d been at Alyssa’s side through it all. Rage at the unfairness that he’d never grow up burned my soul before razing through me like a bushfire.

Instead of being there for Alyssa, for Phoebe, and for Emmanuel, I’d been in Sydney with a revolving bedroom door.

The thoughts were stolen away when I gave in to the chest-wracking sobs that struck me. Each sob was so painful, I was certain it would be my last. It was beyond me to fight the beast back, so I gave up and let it consume me.

I longed for the bliss of unconsciousness and cursed that I had nothing to speed me into the darkness. A few tablets, a shot, anything.

At some point, someone knocked on my front door, as if trying to draw me back from the ledge. At first, I could barely hear it, but then whoever it was banged against it harder than before. The sound offered tiny distractions from my destructive darkness, but I couldn’t find it in myself to move. Nor could I give the pounding anything more than a moment’s attention.

I couldn’t even raise my head to acknowledge the noise. There was no way I would be able to climb to my feet, trudge down the stairs, and answer it. Ultimately, it didn’t matter who it was because nothing mattered anymore.

Everything important to me was gone.

My career, which had once flown so high, had sunk to depths so low that I couldn’t see any way for it to be salvaged. It was in the trash somewhere in Danny’s office, hidden among the pages of a glossy magazine.

By far the worst loss I had endured though was the love and family that I’d barely admitted I wanted. They’d been cruelly ripped from my life far too soon, just when I was finding hope for a different future. I would give back everything I’d ever achieved on the track for another day with Alyssa. For just a single hour more with Phoebe.

After some time, the banging stopped, and I was alone again. I didn’t know minutes from hours, or hours from days. I could have been hiding in the back of my wardrobe for any length of time. I had no idea, nor any inclination to care.

The blackness in my heart and surrounding my eyes was too absolute. I was happy to reside in that pit for the rest of eternity. I deserved it for the darkness I’d bestowed on those who’d done nothing but offer me their love.

Thoughts of Alyssa crept into my mind again, invading all my senses. Reckless hope that she might one day see the article was a fabrication created a devastating cocktail when mixed with unending despair that she never would. Together the hope and fear twisted through my insides, forming knots that might never be undone.

Eventually, my mind cracked, and I heard the voice of an angel call my name.

For a moment, the beautiful sound held me in place as my heart began to beat once more—whole and undamaged at just the imagined sound of my name in that perfect voice. When it called again, it compelled me to rise from the ground. It was enough to pull me from my hiding space and send me hurtling out of my bedroom. Especially as it continued to call my name on a desperate loop, sounding more concerned with each repeat.

Racing down the hallway, I tried to work out where the sound was coming from.

When I reached the stairs, the sight waiting for me at the bottom stopped me dead in my tracks as my heart all but exploded in my chest.

CHAPTER TWO: THE DREAM

ALYSSA WAITED ON the ground floor. At the sight of her, I said a silent thank you to whatever god had granted my prayers.

She was dressed in the same clothing she’d worn when she’d left me at the airport. Her hair was up in a ponytail, but little strands of chestnut poked out at random intervals as if she’d been rubbing at her head repeatedly. Tears streaked her face, and it looked like she had just endured the worst twenty-four hours of her life.

In that moment though, it didn’t matter. Because she was there.

I didn’t know if she was getting ready to scream and shout at me for the stupid things the magazine had accused me of doing, but I didn’t care. She was
there
.

“Lys,” I sobbed.

At the exact same time, she glanced up at me and whispered, “Dec.”

I threw myself down the stairs with no regard for my own safety. I took them two at a time, screaming toward the bottom as fast as I could. My only goal—my one objective—was to get to Alyssa. I needed to hold her and know that she was really there, that it wasn’t some sick joke my mind had invented to torture me.

My heart beat against my throat, each painful thump evidence that this was real.

As soon as I hit solid ground, Alyssa’s warm body smashed against mine. Her hands grasped my face, guiding my lips to their home. My tongue pushed forward without waiting for invitation, attempting to imprint the memory of her taste on itself just in case this was the last time she would ever allow me the opportunity.

My hands gripped her waist and I pulled her against me, not allowing even an inch of space between us. Despite that, I couldn’t get nearly close enough. I had to prove to myself that it wasn’t a dream. Even though I could see, feel, and taste her, I still couldn’t believe she was actually there.

After releasing her mouth, I planted continuous small kisses on her lips and cheek. Her name left me again and again as a reverent prayer. With each passing second, the light of her presence penetrated further into the darkness that had welled up inside me.

Finally, I laughed in spite of myself.

The joy I felt at having her close again pushed aside any concerns that it wouldn’t be for long.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.” I chuckled again as I rested my forehead against hers. I kept the questions of how and why suppressed because I didn’t want to break the spell that was keeping her in my arms.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I shook my head and gently clasped her face between my hands as I continued to pepper her with kisses. “It doesn’t matter how I am. I don’t matter. You’re here. You’re really here.”

But for how long?

“Dec,” she started, but I stopped her.

“I need to talk to you. About the magazine. About Eden . . .” I trailed off as I braced myself for the worst. When I thought about the fucking magazine, about how guilty it all made me appear, I wasn’t sure how exactly to form the words I needed to say without risking losing her.

“It’s too late,” she said. “I already know about your relationship.”

I froze. Her words confirmed my worst fears. My body sagged against her, and I pulled her closer to me, fearing the moment she would speak the words that would finish me off. Terrified of the moment she would leave. It was too late.

“Please don’t take Phoebe away from me,” I whispered. “I couldn’t bear it if you did. I need her in my life. I need
both
of you in my life.
Please . . . don’t . . . leave
.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Her voice was breathy but reassuring as her hand brushed across my cheek.

“But the magazine . . . the story.
Eden.
”

She offered me a small, knowing smile. “I know.”

The calm she exuded confused me. “Don’t you think I cheated on you?”

With her honey-brown gaze locked on me, she said, “What did I tell you, Dec? I
wanted
to trust you. Somewhere along the line, I think I genuinely started to. If I’d seen that filth a few weeks ago, I probably would have believed every damn word. But now? After everything you’ve done? With the way you reacted to finding out about your father? I just don’t believe it. I can’t. You might have done some shitty things over the years, but you’re not a bad person. And you’re not a hypocrite.”

I could have argued her last two points, but I didn’t want to stop her perfect words.

“Unless of course you’re trying to tell me that you really did have an affair with your co-worker.”

I shook my head. “Edie’s just a friend. That’s all. There’s nothing else between us.”

“I thought so.”

“But why?” I frowned as confusion bubbled within me. “Why do you believe me?”

Her brows pinched together and a breathy chuckle left her. “Would you prefer that I didn’t?”

I held her tighter still, squeezing her against my chest. “No.”

“I stopped to get bread and milk on the way home from the airport. Because I was at work, I popped into the back room and saw the magazine. At first, I
was
shocked and prepared for the worse. Then I decided to ignore it and see what you had to say about it when I saw you next. But I couldn’t help myself; I had to know what they’d said. I’ve been buying everything with you on the cover for as long as I can remember.” When Alyssa spoke, she rubbed the back of my neck, just above my still-fresh tattoo. “Even as I read the article, I saw a number of things that didn’t make sense.”

“Like?” The hope that maybe things weren’t permanently damaged between us took root as a tiny ember in my heart and warmed me from the inside out.

“Well, for starters, I know for a fact that nothing’s going on between you and Ruby, even though the article insinuated there was.” Amusement lit her voice, and I understood why. Ruby had hardly been my biggest ally over the years. Even if she’d softened slightly toward me after our little chat the night before I took Alyssa to the track, she would hardly be willing to jump into bed with me—nor me with her. “Second, you might not remember, but you sent me a text the night you were out with Eden. You told me about the great time you were having with your friend and that you missed me. You went on about how you wished I could meet her. I really don’t think you would have texted me if you were sleeping with her.

“Finally, and most importantly, when I got back home, magazine in hand, I found your phone. I was worried someone might try to contact you about the article, so I turned it on. I thought I could at least tell them to contact you on your home number if they had it. It lit up instantly with about twenty missed calls, all from one number.”

“Eden,” I whispered.

“Eden,” she confirmed with a smile. “Not long after I’d turned the phone on, it rang again. Because I assumed it had to have been important for her to call so often, I answered it. She didn’t even stop for breath as she told me what Danny was doing, and checked whether I knew about the article. She made sure I knew it was all BS.”

“I’m sorry, Lys,” I said as I recalled the things the article had said about her. “I didn’t mean to drag you into my shit. Maybe it would have been better if I’d never come back into your life.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t you
ever
say that!” Her words were spoken so vehemently that I tugged her closer again to give her some comfort. The undercurrent of pain, the doubt and fear that I’d worked to wash away, existed once more in her impassioned cry. I wondered whether she was as scared of me running as I was of her pushing me away.

With her in my arms, a sense of sanity returned to me and I could think properly again. I turned the article over in my mind.

“I just don’t understand why they would attack me like that,” I murmured. “And why they would attack you at all?”

“To sell magazines?” she offered.

I shook my head. That would have been part of it, for sure. A cover with a scandal almost guaranteed a greater circulation, but a one-page article hinting at a relationship with Eden would have done that. Even the revelation of Phoebe’s existence would have been enough to bump up sales. The article was too long to be just about numbers. There was something else happening. There were too many coincidences. Too many times that a photographer was close at hand and ready to capture my mistakes. “It feels like there’s more to it than that. It’s almost like it’s connected somehow—”

“Like
everything’s
connected,” Alyssa finished my sentence.

“Exactly.” The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It was no coincidence that the photographers were at the benefit, and someone had to have been following me to have gotten the photos of Eden and me, as well as the photos with Ruby in the one tiny moment we’d embraced. They had to have been waiting for that shot.

Even the fight with Dad had been over too fast for a random pap to have stumbled across us—unless they were already in the area.

“Alex,” Alyssa whispered.

“What?” I pulled away, shocked. My own mind drifted toward the one woman who seemed to be around each time things had gone to shit. And that was a certain redhead from a nightclub, not Alex, the PR representative for my former employer’s rival.

“Alex,” she repeated louder. “She mentioned something to me, at the benefit, about hearing something around Wood Racing. While you were in the bathroom, she pulled me aside and warned me that Paige was not above using dirty tactics to get to you. That’s why I wasn’t there when you came out to find me. She wouldn’t say anything more though.”

“You think all of this might be a fucking recruitment campaign to get me to go to Wood Racing?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe it’s not what she meant. Maybe it’s not related. But if it is, well, it’s worked hasn’t it? I mean . . .”

I closed my eyes to block out the unfinished part of her statement. Yes, I was sacked. She knew it and I knew it, but neither of us could use the word. “No, it didn’t.”

“What?” she asked.

“I might be out of Sinclair Racing, but there is no way in hell I would race for that fucking lunatic Wood. Especially if she’s orchestrated this. I’d rather stay unemployed.”

“You know you’ll probably never know for sure whether she did or didn’t.”

“I know. But regardless, it would mean moving to Brisbane when you’re moving down here.” I cupped her cheek with my hand and met her gaze. “I’m not going to choose a job over you again, Lys. Not again. That’s a mistake I’m not going to make twice.”

She kissed me softly in response.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on her forehead. “Not that I am complaining, but what the hell
are
you doing here? And where’s Phoebe?”

“After I spoke to Eden, and she told me what Mr. Sinclair was doing, I knew you’d take it badly. I know it was always your dream to race for them. I didn’t even think about what I was doing. I just threw together a few basics for Phoebe and me, climbed into your car, and drove. Phoebe’s outside right now. With Eden.”

“Eden?” I asked. I was still amazed that this beautiful, understanding, loving woman was actually standing in front of me. But it was even more astounding that she trusted my judgement enough to put our daughter’s care in the hands of one of my friends, especially one she’d never met.

“She was camped on the front doorstep when I arrived. She’d tried calling, but the phone must be off the hook or something. We weren’t sure what state you’d be in, so we thought it might be better for me to come in alone. Just to be on the safe side.”

“You mean just in case I was lying in a pool of my own vomit after passing out from a drinking binge?” I challenged, seeing the real reason she’d put her trust in Eden. It was the lesser of two evils. But I wondered whether she’d admit the direction of her thoughts out loud.

“Something like that,” she said, stepping back and linking her fingers with mine. The shy apprehension on her face as she continued made it impossible for me to feel even slightly upset with her words. “I’m sorry. I tried to have faith, I really did, but . . . I couldn’t be sure. And if something had happened, I didn’t want Phoebe to see.” She frowned, no doubt recalling the situation in London when I’d passed out and cut my arm badly enough to need stitches. “I didn’t want her to have that memory seared into her mind.”

I sighed. “I don’t blame you. Not really. It was a close one, Lys. Even I wasn’t sure I could resist.”

“But you did?” She beamed at me, already guessing my answer.

With a smile lifting my lips because of her confidence—even if it was tentative—I shook my head. “I couldn’t do it.”

She brought our linked hands to her mouth and kissed mine softly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too,” I said, shifting my hands so my palms caressed her face. I met her gaze and refused to break our stare until I knew she understood not only the truth in my words, but the depth of my love.  “Now, let’s go get Phoebe. I need to see her too.”

Hope, happiness, and love filled the void I’d felt since climbing onto the plane to come back to Sydney. I refused to release Alyssa’s hand as we walked to the front door. Together: the way we would be doing everything now.