I Will Not Run (5 page)

I looked out of the window.

“You couldn’t be the fastest swimmer, could you, Dominic, not ever, no matter how hard you tried? So every morning, it was into that vast outdoor pool for you, naked and humiliated, the cold biting through your skin.”

“Many had it worse,” I reminded him. But he was on a roll and wouldn’t stop.

“How many gold stars did you have to get before you were allowed to read your own mother’s letters?”

I sighed. “Enough! I know what you’re thinking, Jack, but you’re wrong. This isn’t about winning. It isn’t. Really it isn’t.”

He raised his bushy eyebrows. “Okay, Dominic, as long as you’re sure. But you know as well as I do that emotional blackmail has a lingering insidious effect. It takes its toll, and lasts a lifetime.”

“Yep. Look, thanks for the chat, Jack my mate, but I’d better get on.” I bolted for the door.

“I’ll be out this afternoon. I’m down at the cop shop again at three. I’m sitting in on another interrogation. And, you know, today, I’m looking forward to it. I’m right in the mood.”

Jack stared at me.

“And mate, despite what you just implied, I want Winter back for all the
right
reasons. But you were spot on about something. I’m done with losing.”

I walked out and let the door swing hard behind me.

Chapter 6

Winter

Monday 14
th
July

I need to finish telling you, dear diary, what happened yesterday. I got up to the bit where Dom and I were in the kitchen talking and Bruno was in our bedroom listening. I had to be so careful, had to think every sentence through before opening my mouth, otherwise I risked giving us away. It was tricky because I was ridiculously excited, butterflies and all that, and strangely angry too. I know that sounds weird, but I was angry because Dom looked so carefree and handsome and in comparison, I knew I looked downtrodden and pathetic.

With all that torrid emotion inside me, I had to act like nothing was up. Cripes, indifference was the very last thing I was feeling.

Every time I opened my mouth, I felt like I was tiptoeing through a pit of snakes. Imagine if I’d forgotten myself for a second and had said something dumb like,
How’s your Mum, Dominic?
How suspicious would that have sounded to eavesdropping Bruno?

So instead I said, “So, Dom, do you live in Galston somewhere?” and silently congratulated myself for sounding normal.

I dropped the coffee capsule into the machine and tried to think straight, tried to remember how to make coffee. There was a sequence, I do it every day, but for the life of me I couldn’t think how it went. My head was spinning.

Heat the milk first. Have I changed the water in the machine? Who cares! The coffee started to drip into the tray because I’d forgotten to put a mug under the spout. Damn it all.

“In the village,” he answered. “And in Sydney too.”

In the village?
What’s that? He lives in the village. I think that’s what he meant.

Everywhere felt like no-go territory. I had a million real questions. I was desperate to know where exactly he lived and who exactly he was with, but those questions had to be stowed away for later. Bruno might not be in the room, but he was listening, guaranteed.

“Came back to live in the village over a year ago now,” he answered, his perfectly shaped butt pressed against the edge of my stone bench.

“You’ve got a young family, I suppose?” I asked, knowing I was on shaky ground with that question. Would Bruno, with his ear pressed flat against the wall, think village equals young family equals sane enough question to ask a stranger? I doubted it. Instead he’d jump to conclusions. He’d decide that I was interested in this ridiculously talented, confident man standing in front of me. I was being as subtle as a storm trooper. I might as well have come out and asked,
Are you single?

I heard, actually heard, Dominic grin. “Nope. No wife or young family. I guess I’m still waiting for the right girl.”

I blushed, heaven knows why. Nothing he said related to me. I was married already, so he can’t have been referring to me. And that was annoying in itself. He was staring again. Where did he get all his confidence from?

I heard the shower in our en-suite fire up. But that still did not mean we were safe to talk. The shower could be a decoy. Bruno might be behind our bedroom wall right now taking notes. If he caught me flirting or being over familiar with a stranger, he’d lose it. He could feed off one sin of mine for months.

Thinking of months of suffering, I tried to improve my cover. “Do you realise, Dominic, just how hard the job ahead of you is? I’m not sure how much my husband has told you, but I really
,
really hate guns. I don’t trust them. Guns have a will of their own.”

I know I sounded nuts but what could I do? Dom was going to find out soon enough that, where guns were concerned, I really was a little crazy. “Actually,” I said, knowing I hadn’t painted a bleak enough picture yet, “I get all shaky just saying the G-word.”

He nodded, dismissing my fuss with a shrug. For a freakish moment there I thought he was going to say,
So what’s new? You never liked guns, I know that.

He said nothing about the past though. Instead, he watched me bite my lip and when I raised my gaze to meet his, he ever-so-subtly winked. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Instead I gave him another of my warning flashes. I gestured towards our bedroom and pointed at my ear, hoping he’d get the drift.

I think he must have realised how worried I was because he abruptly changed his tone. “Your husband did warn me,” he said, becoming a stranger again.

Then, in his best psychiatrist’s voice, he tried reassurance. “It’s alright, Winter. We’re going to take this slowly, gradual exposure and all that. You’ll see. We’ll have you popping off shots before you know it.”

No we won’t.
I didn’t say those words out loud, though. These days I wince at the mere mention of guns. I look away if a gun comes on TV, which means I have to look away often and when I hear the sound of gun fire, my face glosses with sweat.

I handed him his coffee, cradled mine, and together we sauntered outside. Actually what really happened was this: I snatched my cup from under the spout, splashed hot coffee on my jeans then dribbled some on the floor boards too, pretended I couldn’t feel the heat burn against my leg, ignored the mess on the floor, and even walked through it on my way to the door. It was the weirdest feeling. I wanted to be with him and equally I didn’t want to be any where near him.

Dom followed me outside, cool and collected. Nothing dented his demeanour.

I didn’t need to look back at my bedroom window, back to the wavering curtains to know that Bruno was in the corner of our room peeping out. My husband is molten lava. You don’t always see or hear him coming but he’s there, slowly moving forward.

When we were far enough away, I figured it was time he heard again just how careful we needed to be. “Bruno is so jealous. I can’t believe he brought you here.”

Dom looked away, and I’m sure he raised his eyes, losing patience with my nerves. “Why shouldn’t he bring me here? He doesn’t know about our past. He knows nothing.”

“You’re right. He knows nothing,” I repeated, trying to convince myself. “But it’s just not like Bruno to let a strange man near me, certainly not one that looks like you.” I turned away, wishing I’d put that better. I had to stay facing away, head down to hide my flushed cheeks.

He moved closer and whispered, “Did you just call me handsome?”

“Course not,” I snapped, knowing I had.

We stood together yet far apart. The parrots in the trees were the only ones talking to each other. When at last he did speak, I wished he hadn’t. “You’re certainly afraid of him, aren’t you?”

I shot Dom a daggers stare. I would have liked to blurt out,
I am not!
But Dom would see straight through that and know I was lying. Cripes, anyone could see I was scared. He was looking straight at my smashed-up cheek, and that also annoyed me.

I changed direction. “You should be afraid of him too.”

Dom waved his arm in the air, an overconfident gesture that brushed all mention of Bruno aside. “Don’t worry, I can handle him. I’ve
met worse.”

Really? Was that possible? Was there someone worse?

“If he hits you again, you’ll tell me, won’t you? I mean it, Winter.”

I lifted my eyes so that they were level with his. “You can’t take Bruno on. Stop thinking you can.”

He shrugged, like he really believed he could not only take him on but beat him too.

I sighed and darted out across the grass. I wasn’t leading Dom anywhere in particular, I just needed to move away from the house.

Dom’s confidence was clouding his judgement. He might be successful and clever but Bruno’s a whole other breed. As appealing as smart, sporty, poster boys are, they’re no match for junkyard dogs.

“You’re here to teach me to shoot, remember? Don’t go thinking you can take my husband on and win. No one can.”

He narrowed his eyes, looking almost annoyed. “If you want me to leave now, just say the word and I’ll go.”

I kicked the ground, digging a small hole in the dirt with the toe of my riding boot.

“I know I have no right to ask you to stay. Especially considering that it’s dangerous for you here.” I still couldn’t look at him. “But don’t leave. Please.”

He moved closer, and I’m sure I saw the muscles in his arm tense, like he wanted to reach out and touch me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I smiled up at him with all the warmth that relief brings. Then he did it. He slid his arm around my waist. He was way overstepping the mark but right then I didn’t care. I didn’t try to stop him either, didn’t say a word. Reckless as it was, I closed my eyes and wallowed in the moment, in the feeling of being safe and cared for. Deep down, I knew he only meant the gesture as a casual thing, best mates and all that, but it was easy for me to fool myself. I wanted that arm around my middle to mean something. For the first time in ages, I felt woolly and wonderful. Dom couldn’t have missed the effect he had on me but there wasn’t a darn thing I could do about that. Pushing him away wasn’t an option.

We stood companionably side by side, his arm still around my middle. There was nothing awkward about the silence.

He gazed out across our land. “Your operation here isn’t exactly legal,” he muttered, facing the hectares that stretched far out into the horizon. “And who said crime doesn’t pay?”

Then he pulled me towards him so that we were facing each other. He lifted his hand to my cheek and very gently brushed his fingertips across my inky-black bruise. “But Winter my sweet thing, no amount of money is worth this.”

I jumped back, putting distance between us, shaking him off. “Why are you really here, Dominic? How can I possibly believe that you’re here for the money? I bet forensic psychiatrists earn mega-bucks. Tell me the truth?”

He gave me a nod. “Maybe I don’t need the cash. And maybe I don’t teach people to shoot anymore. I haven’t taken a job like this since I finished uni.”

The hairs on my arms bristled.

“I came because I wanted to see you again, one last time.”

Chapter 7

Bruno

I walked into the foyer at
Male Form
and of course they all yelled out, “How-you-going, Bruno?”

I’m used to it. Everyone in this town sucks up to me. I wasn’t in the mood to wave back, though, especially not when I spotted the crowd hovering around Hal at the front desk. I’m losing patience with this gym. All they do is sign up more bodies. The bottom line, that’s all they’re about. They’re no better than pigs at a trough. The gym’s full to the gunnels anyway. Why do they need to go crowd the place out with day trippers? These weekend-farmer types should bugger off and find another place to pose in.

I watched Hal behind the counter mouthing off, spewing sales crap and not stopping long enough to draw breath. I caught his attention. I guess my face said it all because he jumped back like I’d thrown acid in his eye. Quickly, doing what he should have done at the start, he herded his posers to one side. I stormed right through the middle, parting the waters.

They were a bright-eyed noisy lot, as silly as a flock of galahs. Perhaps they really did need to come here after all. Don’t think I’ve ever seen such puny arms and sunken chests. Their squeaky-clean clothing said it all too. Everything matched and there was not a sweat-stain in sight. They were just the type Hal loved because they paid up for the year and didn’t last the month.

He rounded them up and moved the flock into the locker rooms.

“The gym’s still not full enough for you, Hal?”

“Bruno, he said, shooting back. “Glad to see you again, mate.”

He offered me his hand but I let it hang. Instead, I looked around, scanning the joint for my boys.

“Business isn’t bad,” he babbled, “considering it is off-season. The gym always suffers in the colder months. Come September, though . . .”

“My boys in?” I’d heard way more than I needed to. I’m not the bloody bank manager.

“Yep, go through.” He pointed to the room behind the front desk, the room we’ve claimed as our own. This space is a gym within a gym, a weightlifting area for the hard-core and the inner circle. No newbies allowed.

Before I got into the room, proper, I saw my boys in the mirror. If I could see them, then so could everyone else. My boys are slack about their own security.

“Hal,” I yelled out again, remembering the bag I still held in my hand. He popped his head through the door.

“Yeah, Bruno?”

I shoved the big weekender into his arms. It was heavy, stuffed with juice caps and everything else. God knows how many little bottles of testosterone I’d crammed in there too.

“Settle you up later,” he said. “When Harvey gets in.” He scurried away.

I waltzed over to Joey. He was lying on a bench press doing bicep curls.

“My grandma can lift more than that.”

“Hey, Bruno,” Joey said, stopping his workout mid rep. “How’s things, mate?” he asked, wiping his sweaty hands on his shorts.

I sat on the bench beside him, not feeling like exercising today. Instead, I wanted to talk, so that’s what we’d do.

“Winter’s a stupid cow,” I said, shaking my head.

They put their weights down, sat up, and listened. They knew well enough to listen carefully and say little. Obviously, it was okay for me to slag off my wife, but not them. I thumped my fist into my palm enjoying the smacking sound it made.

“I mean, where’s the innocent girl I married, answer me that?”

The boys looked around at the floor, in the corners and even up at the ceiling as if the young innocent Winter from way back might be hiding in one of those spots.

“You know what I think?” I needed to explain everything to them because neither of them was big on thinking. “Winter’s left her cocoon and look what’s hatched out. I thought I was marrying a beautiful butterfly but I got a common brown moth instead. Duded, that’s what I was.”

“Geez, Bruno, marriage ain’t easy, mate.”

I held up one hand. Joey needed to stop and listen.

When they were quiet, I continued. “One miserable day I rolled over in bed and I thought to myself,
Who is this person passing herself off
as my wife?
This strange new Winter, she tells lies, so many of them. I’ve given up listening. She’s gone weird in other ways too. She brews up strange things in my kitchen, home remedies she calls them. Like we can’t afford to get the real deal from the chemist. Yesterday she picked mushrooms from our paddock. I reckon they were toadstools.”

“Nah, mate, Winter’s not like that. She wouldn’t hurt you.”

I eyed Vinnie suspiciously. “You fancy my wife or something?”

“No man, course not. I mean, sure, she’s hell-good-looking but no way.”

Joey joined in. “I’ve known Winter longer than anyone; known her since she was a kid. She’s a good girl.”

I could feel the blood pulsing in my neck. “Really, is that so? Well you wait till you hear this. Guess who I brought home with me the other day? Dom-fuckin’-Frenchman. You know who he is, do you?”

“Nope.”

“I’ve heard the name.” Joey rubbed his jaw, like he was a bloody professor.

“He’s Winter’s old bonk, that’s who he is. But the funny thing is, my
good girl
wife made out she’d never seen him before. Now, I know for a fact that she used to do him in the back of his truck in high school.”

Joey scuffed his shoes, studying the floorboards. “She’s not owning up, mate, because she doesn’t want to make you jealous, that’s all it is.”

I felt like exploding. Even my boys were taking her side. Winter got to everyone in the end.

“She’s a bloody liar. Did I tell you that when we met, she pretended she was a virgin? A con job, that’s what it was.”

The boys shuffled nervously, like they wanted to be anywhere else. Then Vinnie piped up, “I wasn’t Corrine’s first. So what? I don’t care.”

I studied my old mate Vinnie, a simple country kid. Many would say he was too simple. Did he really think that what was good enough for him was also good enough for me?

I let my face fall into my hands. “You know what really gets me?”

They shook their heads.

“Winter thinks I’m stupid. That, I can’t bear.”

“Nah.” Joey picked up the barbell. “No she doesn’t.”

“My gutless wonder of a wife can’t even hold a gun, did you know that?”

“No, but hey, that’s a good thing, right?”

“She can’t even look at a gun. That’s pathetic, that’s what it is!”

Silence from both of them.

“I’m going to force her.”

Their eyes skittered about, giving each other not-so-secret looks. At least the boys were smart enough to sense when trouble was coming.

“I’ve got cameras hidden all over my place: in the trees, in the garage, in the green houses and in the sheds all over the god-damn joint. No matter where those two sneak off to, the tapes will be running.”

“Bruno, mate, why let this Dom character get near her in the first place?”

“It’s a test, of course. Do I need to explain everything?”

They looked anywhere other than at me.

I sighed, realising that
yes
, I did need to explain everything to them. “I need to know if Winter is loyal to me. I reckon she’s up to something. I don’t know what, just know that I don’t trust the bitch anymore. A man like me needs a loyal trustworthy wife.”

Joey put the dumbbell down. “She doesn’t understand your position. You need to tell her how important you are in this town. It’s not the bloody cops or the lawyers that hold the power here. It’s you man. Everyone looks up to you.”

I nodded. “She doesn’t know shit. She’s too stupid to realise that it was me, I organised it.
I
planned the break-in. Who’d be dumb enough to break into my home and steal from
me
? Seriously!”

Vinnie smiled. “She didn’t suspect a thing?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“She still doesn’t know that it was me, your old mate Vinnie.
I
was the intruder. How cool’s that?” He looked at the others, revelling in his success. “I was packing it when I realised she was in that bathroom though. She was supposed to be out, that’s what
you
said mate.” He lit up a smoke. “I nearly shit myself when I realised your Mrs was in there. What if she’d opened that door? She’d have recognised me straight off, even with my mask on. What if she’d gone for me, what would I have done then? I could hardly whack her over the head. I had no choice but to bluff it out and play mean.”

I snatched his smoke. “Don’t know why you’re looking so bloody pleased with yourself. You trashed my house.”

“I didn’t want the job, Bruno, you know that. You forced it on me.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t need to rubbish the place so bad.”

“You said,
make it believable
. So that’s what I did. Only, I didn’t realise she was in the tub, not till later.”

Bruno smiled remembering the night she’d phoned him in a panic. Yeah, her reaction was gold. She fell for the con, hook, line and sinker.

“Yep, Vinnie, you got her riled up, true enough. But it was
my
plan, you remember that. And it worked beautifully, of course it did.”

The boys nodded.

“I needed an excuse to bring her playmate Dom into the house, and bingo, the intruder was it, perfect.”

I stood up and headed for the door. I’d had enough of the boys already. Vin and Joey were good mates but not exactly sharp company. I hated the fact that when my boys looked at Winter, they see what
she
wanted them to see.

Not me. I know better. That look in her eye, that’s not the look you give someone you love. I mean, I know I can get a bit suspicious and all—keeps me alive, goes with the job—but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s up to something bad.

Here I am, a forty-five year old man, top of his game, feared by everyone. I have punters throwing money at my feet and the young girls dropping their knickers too. I shouldn’t be wondering if my wife is cheating or playing foul.

All those dinners, all that fine cooking you do, Winter, why? When I suggest we order a restaurant meal, have it driven all the way over, you always says no. Hon, do you really love standing at the stove that much? Or, maybe there’s more to it; maybe you’re adding something here and a pinch there.

Sometimes I look at my plate of meat and I think to myself,
What have you hidden in my food?
I haven’t been feeling that crash-hot lately. Why do you think I feed Chester all the time? It’s a sorry state of affairs when the man of the house has to feed his own dog the family dinner before he dares eat a mouthful. I haven’t said anything yet, but tell you what, if I don’t shake the feeling soon then I’m going to take some of my dinner away and get it tested—in a proper lab. Money, it’s bloody handy when you need it.

You better be innocent, baby.