Tumble Creek (34 page)

‘I wanted you to come back with me to Sydney. I thought if I wrecked your house you'd have nowhere to live. I didn't mean for it to fall apart.'

Horrified, Sofie cut him off. ‘You're out of your mind! I would die first before I go anywhere with you. Get out of my sight—we are
not
talking
anymore
,' she snapped, hands slicing in front of him, indicating it was final. Fists clenched, she brought her hands to her sides, before she got physical and then he'd cry foul and demand compensation. Logic, sanity, whatever, something dawned on her and leaning into his face, she squinted at him and hissed, ‘How did you know where I lived? Have you been stalking me?'

Sarge's growl rumbled deep in his chest as he inched closer, blocking Jett. Jett's uneasy eyes sliced to the dog. He quickly took a step back. Sweat started to bead on his upper lip and Sofie's thoughts went back to the holiday cottage when Brock threatened Jett.
‘Don't fuck with my girl, don't fuck with my girl's daughter.'
And he meant every word. Disappointment coiled inside her, because here she was, dealing with the same shit,
alone
. And only Sarge was by her side to protect her.

‘I asked you a question, Jett!'

‘No—no stalking.' His wary eyes shot back to Sofie. ‘I saw you in town and followed you here.'

Jett quickly recovered from his initial alarm at seeing Sarge, a mountain of a dog clinging to her side, loyal, protective. He gathered his composure, and in a blink, his self-importance quickly followed. Lip curled, he scanned the front of Brock's family home, and a snide comment was about to come her way.

‘Why are you living in
this
filthy dump? You've got enough money to buy half of Sydney.'

And there it was,
money
. She really should rise above his stupidity, but years of mental abuse, then liberation to become the person hidden under his—and her mother's—pile of horse shit, she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

‘Don't be ridiculous!' Palm out, Sofie shoved his shoulder and one of his feet went back off the porch. Before he had the chance to right himself, Sofie stepped forward, loomed over him, and poked his chest, snarling, ‘This beautiful home has seen more love, affection and understanding than you would
ever
see—ever!'

‘Oh sure,' he scoffed.

She wasn't going to waste her breath on this idiot. ‘Leave—before I regret doing something I shouldn't.'

‘Ha!' The two-timing piece of shit sleaze-bag dared curl his lip at her in distaste. ‘If you don't give me what I want, I will post
all
those photos.'

Sofie's mouth went dry, her body weak, it seemed all her lifeblood drained to her feet, which were heavy and rooted to the spot. She swayed before her hand found the porch post.

‘Yeah, you know the ones I'm talking about. They'll be on every social media I can find.'

‘You're a self-serving cheating scammer and a liar!' Unfortunately, dread filled her heart—had he made copies? Her mind raced back to what she'd done, and she
had
been thorough. Feeling more confident she rallied and told him, ‘During the divorce, I destroyed them all, every single one.'

‘You have to be naïve if you think I didn't make copies … you know the ones I mean. You love your toys.' He gave her a smug sneer.

Shit!
her mind screamed.

Enraged, she yelled at him, ‘Only because you're inadequate, incapable of giving me, or anyone, pleasure, so therefore you're totally incompetent in all areas. And now you've proven to me once again that you
are
the lowest, ugliest person I've ever known.' Before he had a chance to brace, Sofie shoved him, hard. ‘You're turning something private about me into something grotesque, which it wasn't. You're willing to embarrass me
and
your daughter. But what's even more interesting is you're willing to embarrass yourself. You post those photos and everyone will know you're the weak link. There are no words to describe someone like you. Foul, gross, nauseating, loathsome, skanky mongrel, aren't horrible enough. You disgust me.'

‘I want one hundred thousand dollars—today.' Jett stated without a blink.

Sofie's derisive laugh cut the air. ‘Now I know you're an idiot. Only a fool would ask me for that sort of money. This is blackmail. And where will it end? How do I know you don't have more copies, so you can wave them in my face next time you need cash. You lazy, worthless piece of shit.'

Takumi moved so fast, he was almost a blur, stupefying Jett, handcuffing him, and reading him his rights, before Sofie took another breath. Jett struggled, but it was a useless exercise. Takumi frogmarched him to the police truck, shoved him inside, strapped him in and locked the doors.

Sofie caught Jett's red, angry faced plastered on the glass mouthing off about something, and she didn't care.

Eyes steadfast, she didn't flinch from Takumi's scrutiny, when she said, ‘I want all his keys, access to his car, his address if he's staying here, and his home address—if he has one.'

Takumi took forever to speak, and then, ‘Sure. Come by the station, I'll have them for you in half an hour.'

‘Thank you. I know you're sticking your neck out for me … just want you to know, I really appreciate it. I'll get it all back to you, hopefully before anyone notices.'

‘Not a problem. You need any help, just call. Is there something wrong with the landline or your phone?'

‘No, I've been out. After yesterday I needed to shop. I didn't realise my mobile was turned off. I was about to ring Brock when dickhead turned up.'

Takumi pulled a phone out of his shirt pocket, his thumb flew over the screen, then he handed it to Sofie saying, ‘Do it now, he's driving me nuts.'

Sofie put it to her ear and waited.

‘What's up, Tak?' Brock's deep voice asked.

‘It's not Takumi, it's me.' Sofie said, sharper than she would've liked, but didn't care.

‘What the hell, Sofe, I've been trying get hold of you all day.' He sounded pissed off. Hah …
he
was pissed off!

‘I'm going to hand the phone back to Takumi and I'll ring you a bit later. Talk soon,' she said, voice flat, and closed off then handed the phone back. ‘Thank you, and thanks for coming by.'

A smile tweaked Takumi's mouth, he couldn't hold back the chuckle, nor the slight shake of his head. ‘Ooh, you're pissed at Brock. Would I like to be a fly on the wall when he gets back?' Then his face turned serious. ‘Sofe, with Brock, yeah?' And he waited for a response to make sure she was listening. When she slanted her head, he continued. ‘You've got nothing to worry about, not a thing. Station found out Jett was in town about fifteen minutes ago. I recorded what he said on my mobile, and not only will he go down for destroying your house, but also for attempted blackmail.'

‘You recorded him?' Heat burned up her neck and into her face. Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth, and when she finally spoke again, her top lip stuck to her teeth.
Oh my God.
‘What the hell made you do that!? You can't use that—destroy it right now!'

‘If you really insist I will, you have my word. But talk to Brock first.' Takumi hitched a thumb over his shoulder towards the car. ‘He had a feeling your ex would come sniffing around to get money out of you somehow.'

‘So why isn't he here!?' Sofie yelled.

The phone rang inside the house but she ignored it, too busy imagining her beautiful new life turning to dusty grey ashes right in front of her.

Takumi put his hands on her shoulders, swung her around and said in her ear, ‘Go answer that and put the man out of his misery.' His hands at her back, Takumi pushed her forward and somehow Sofie made her feet move.

Horrified beyond belief by all that had happened, Sofie stumbled inside, but when she reached for the phone, it stopped. The moment she turned her back, it started again. Hands trembling, she picked it up.

‘Hello.' She couldn't keep the wobble, nor the cold, distant tone, under control. She was pissed off.

‘Sofe, you okay, what's going on?' Brock sounded alarmed and frustrated.

She didn't care, she loved the sound of his voice, and damn it all to hell she was going to miss it. Miss him. Miss his big man's body that made her feel safe, and his hands that could hold her up and pleasure her so expertly. A sob threatened to break through, but she wasn't about to let it show; straightening her shoulders she forced it back.

‘Sofe … Babe,' his voice softer, gentler, ‘Talk to me please, I'm dying here.'

Good, she thought, of course, not literally dying, just that he was
feeling
it. It would never be near the crap she was going through, but it would do for now. The way his voice sounded, he had to be talking with his hand cupped over the phone so no one could hear his conversation. Was he hiding the fact that he was talking to her—hiding it from Susanna? She pressed the fingers of her free hand into her forehead and told herself to stop the negativity.

‘Its okay, Brock.' Despite all her efforts, the tell-tale thickening in her throat threatened that tears would soon follow. Gathering her inner strength yet again, she went on. ‘I'm still angry because Jett was here—right here at your parents' home. Contaminating this beautiful place with his bloody ugliness. And they've only just left.'
And you weren't here to keep me safe.

‘They?!' Brock growled.

Sofie ignored him and powered on. ‘He tried to get money out of me. Quite a substantial amount, actually.' She hoped her story would cover the fact she was less than warm and fuzzy with his call, but then why did she care. ‘Takumi was on it.'
Because you made a mad dash to Sydney and Susanna. Damn it!
‘Jett's in custody. He won't be bothering me for a while.' She tried to make light of it, but she only sounded weird. ‘So, how are things in Sydney?'

‘Sofe, something's wrong and—' Brock began.

‘You mean something's wrong in Sydney?' Sofie cut in, a sharp edge to her tone.

‘No, you know what I mean. Don't treat me like an idiot. You sound pissed off and on the verge of tears,' he said, his tone frustrated and angry. He paused; she could hear his heavy breathing, and she assumed it was to get his irritation under control. And she was right. ‘Babe,' he continued in a gentle voice, ‘you're trying, but it's not working. Sofe, talk to me. Aside from Jett, what's going on?' he demanded.

‘Nothing at all. Jett's a money-hungry moron and the whole episode was ugly and draining. I'm so over it.' She sighed. ‘You'd better get back to Rafael and …'

‘Susanna, Sofe, her name is Susanna.'

‘That's right, you're in Sydney with
Susanna
and Rafael.' God, she hated sounding like a bitch, she wasn't like that at all. But
he'd
driven her to it.

‘We'll talk when I get back in a couple of days,' he murmured softly.

‘Sure, goodnight, Brock.'

‘Night, Sofe.'

He wasn't happy, his sad, yet resigned voice said it all. Too bad—she wasn't happy either. Last night, while they were relaxing on the couch and talking about what they needed to do the next day, she'd told him she was going to the supermarket straight after breakfast. How hard would it have been to find her there? Or anywhere in town for that matter. Just ask and someone would've seen her old car and directed him to it, her old rust-bucket stood out like dog's balls.

After leaving Claudia a voice message that she had to fly to Sydney, and to stay at Michelle's, Sofie hopped in her car and drove for an hour to Armidale airport.

Chapter 15

Sofie couldn't believe she'd done it. The whole time spent in Sydney was to protect Claudia. Her sweet girl would never live down the embarrassment of her father's photos displayed on social network sites. Now, arriving on the outskirts of Tumble Creek, a chill ran over her back, up her neck and into her hair, because all hell was going to break loose, she could feel it in her bones. Anxiety, and a heavy heart, made it difficult to think clearly, but, being made of stronger stuff, she'd get through this as well.

She should've been relieved to see that Brock's car wasn't parked in his driveway, but she wasn't, and dread clutched at her stomach. She'd missed him terribly. She'd have to face him sometime soon, but for her own sanity, she hoped he'd stay out of her way long enough for her to pack a few things and get out.

The past couple of days had been unbearable. It didn't help that Brock kept calling and sending texts, which she didn't read or respond to. Sofie couldn't take much more, she needed this horrible nightmare to end. Brock could've been the best thing that had ever happened to her. He was in her thoughts every second of her day, but the nights were worse. No arm around her tucking her into his safe, comforting body, no sweet words and kisses. She tried, but couldn't stop thinking about how his broad physique and his gentle, but manly essence made her tingle all over. How his eyes took in everything about her with warmth that often turned into a smile and wordless, heated promises. The way the big man held her so tenderly. His easy acceptance of Claudia. All of it made her heart swell, but because of what
she'd
done, who
he
was, it tore her apart at the same time.

The most heartbreaking thing she had to accept was
who
he wanted to be with: Susanna, his first love, the woman he adored and respected, the woman who gave him a beautiful son. All these years, he'd believed she was dead, he never stopped grieving for her. To find out she was alive … of course he'd want to rekindle what they had. What sane man would want a short, curvaceous, ex art teacher when they could have a kick-arse, long-legged, beautiful woman like Susanna? For both their sakes, she had to let him go.