Chapter 29
Hart
I’m hanging onto sanity by a thread.
I never should’ve allowed Daisy to lead me astray.
Fuck, I sound like some na?ve kid. What a joke. From the moment I laid eyes on her at the airport in Melbourne I wanted her with a ferocity that shakes my belief system to the core.
I deliberately chose a hotel near the Cross so we could walk to the skate ramp afterwards. But now that the time has come, I’m reluctant. I’d rather stay in this hotel room forever.
Which is enough to propel me out of bed, into the shower, and out onto the street faster than I can blink.
Daisy knows I’m running. She hasn’t called me on it because she’s too high on loved-up endorphins. But she will, and I’m dreading it, the moment I finally reveal my true self when she’ll be let down like all the rest and she’ll bolt.
I’m counting on it.
‘Is it far?’
‘No.’ I’m monosyllabic and have been since we left the hotel on foot five minutes ago.
‘Do I get a clue about this great revelation?’
‘No.’
‘A man of few words. I like it.’
I shoot her a scathing glare and it bounces off her like the rays of sunshine glinting off her hair. It’s been a long day and dusk will fall soon but she looks as fresh as a…well, as a daisy. Shit, even my thoughts are turning corny.
‘Does nothing I say faze you?’
‘No.’ Her cheeky grin is infectious. ‘There. How do you like a one-word answer?’
‘Love it.’
‘Liar,’ she says, and takes my hand. I let her. While I want to drive her away permanently, if I can make this as painless as possible for her, I will.
We round the corner, walk another block, and we arrive at a grungy skate ramp tucked into the back streets of Australia’s seediest suburb, renowned for its pimps, hookers, and drugs. King’s Cross always draws a crowd, from curious tourists to bucks’ parties looking for a good time. But its faux glitz hides a multitude of sins and I’ve seen them all.
The kids that hang out here are hiding from something or running from something or both. I was.
We stop on the outskirts, behind a half-collapsed chain-link fence. Not much has changed. There’s a rectangular patch of cracked concrete to the left, with one basketball hoop at the far end, and a bunch of ramps of varying heights to the right. Kids cluster around both ends. Some are on skateboards, some are passing a basketball back and forth, all wear the same wary expressions with darting eyes and permanent scowls.
‘What is this place?’
‘An escape for kids, mostly foster, a few runaways.’ I point to a small tin shed near the hoop. ‘That’s where the drug deals get done.’ I wave towards an alley that snakes behind the ramps. ‘And that’s where the creeps gutter crawl to pick up the kids willing to do anything for money.’
To her credit she doesn’t recoil like I expect, but the sadness down-turning her mouth and the pity in her eyes guts me.
‘You used to hang out here.’
It’s a statement, but I know there’s a bunch of questions hovering. I want her to ask. I want to shock her. I want to drive her away.
‘Yeah, I hung out here every chance I got. I was eleven, living a nightmare and the kids here were the only ones who got me.’
She squeezes my hand. ‘Tell me about the nightmare.’
I don’t want to talk. Talking achieves nothing. How many dumbass psychologists have tried to get me to open up? Countless, but they were useless. I fed them the usual trite drivel: I’m sad because I don’t have parents; I’m mad because I have to live with a bunch of strangers who don’t give a shit about me; I’m bad because it gets me attention. They offered trite platitudes, not having a clue about the emptiness that made my chest ache on a daily basis.
Daisy is looking at me expectantly and I have to give her something now that I’ve started down this track.
‘It’s the usual nightmare for kids like me. Channelling anger to push people away and scare them into thinking I was a badass before they hurt me. Being labelled a troublemaker because of it. Doing all kinds of bad shit to ensure I kept them at arm’s length. Ensuring I hurt them before they hurt me.’
‘You must’ve tolerated so much.’ She leans into me, resting her head on my bicep. She doesn’t offer a pity-filled apology, which surprises me. ‘I know this doesn’t make up for what you went through, but you’re an amazingly strong man and I think your experiences have shaped you.’
They sure have, but not in a good way. I can’t shake the instinct to run. It’s ingrained now. It’s who I am. Not even Pa’s unswerving and undeserving faith swayed me. He did everything in his power to make me stay: he trusted me, he adored me, he loved me.
I ran anyway.
Pa hid it well but I gutted him and I’ll end up doing the same to Daisy. I’m doing her a favour in pushing her away first. Much easier if I end this now.
‘See those kids shooting hoops?’
She nods, her cheek brushing my arm. It feels nice, having her this close. I make the most of it because it won’t be for much longer.
‘They’ll end up beating the crap out of each other soon.’
‘Why?’
‘Because anger festers and builds, and trying to blow off steam throwing a basketball around isn’t enough.’
As if on cue, a puny kid with straggly hair shoves a bigger boy square in the chest and it’s on. The boys push and punch, fists flying, with the occasional kick thrown in.
Daisy gasps as one of the kids falls to the ground and another kicks him in the guts, leaving him clutching his stomach and rolling around. The fight breaks up after that and they resume dribbling the ball, passing it and shooting. The kid on the ground pushes to his feet after a few moments and joins in.
‘You wanted me to stop that, didn’t you?’
She glances up at me and the tears in her eyes slug me. ‘Yeah.’
‘It would’ve only inflamed them, having an older dude step in.’ I bark out a laugh devoid of amusement. ‘Trust me, I know. Been there, done that, still have the scars to prove it.’
‘Is that how you got that scar on your hip? And the one on your lower back?’
She sounds on the verge of tears, which slays me, but it’s what I want: for her to understand why we can never be together.
‘Yeah. I was wrestling with a mean kid on the ground and a passer-by tried to intervene. The fight got worse, knives came out, I got nicked twice.’
Her hand flies to her mouth. ‘You were stabbed?’
‘More like glancing blows with the pointy end but it hurt like the devil.’
She buries her face in my chest and I’m left with no option but to hold her. I want to dip my face to her hair and inhale so badly I’m light-headed, but I resist.
I need her to be appalled so I keep talking.
‘What happened to me with that knife didn’t hurt half as much as constantly being called a bunch of names I can’t repeat, or forever being told you’re fucking worthless so that soon you believe it, or being so angry at my shitty life that I beat up on any kid I could whenever I could—’
‘Stop.’ She pushes off my chest and tilts her head to look up at me. Her cheeks are tear-stained, her eyes bloodshot. ‘I get it. You think I’ll be repulsed by what you went through so I won’t want to be with you.’
She shakes her head and more tears seep out of the corners of her eyes. ‘But I like you and hearing all this breaks my heart.’
That makes two of us, because I know walking away from Daisy is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
‘I’m telling you this so you understand why I can never be in a relationship.’ I take her face in my hands, cupping gently, splaying my fingers wide over her ears so she hears what I have to say. ‘I’m broken inside. I can’t forget the horrors no matter how hard I try. And I’ve tried. Professionals, meds, nothing worked. So I cope the best I can by helping kids like me. It soothes something inside me but it will never, ever, fix me.’
Tears trickle down her cheeks and drip onto my thumbs. ‘You don’t need to be fixed. You need to allow someone in—’
‘Please don’t tell me what I need.’ I release her and step back, starting the process to distance myself. It hurts like a bastard, far worse than the sting of those knife wounds. ‘I know I can’t give anything more of myself than I already have. And yeah, I admit it’s been a lot more than sex between us, and I feel more for you than I ever have for any other woman. But I can’t do this, Daisy.’
My throat tightens but I force the words out. ‘I can’t be the man you want.’
I turn away and swipe a hand across my eyes so she doesn’t see the evidence of how badly I wish things were different.
‘I brought Pa here once, to show him where I came from—’
‘No, you brought him here to push him away like you’re trying to do to me.’ She lays a hand on my shoulder and spins me back round to face her. ‘How did he react?’
‘Appalled, like you, but he tried to hide it.’ I scowl. ‘He had the audacity to try and turn our visit into a happy memory for me.’ I point to the hoops. ‘He made me wait until most of the kids left, then we shot a little one-on-one.’
The memory makes me choke up. ‘He was a good man and I didn’t do right by him either.’
‘He loved you. Sometimes that has to be enough.’
Startled, I search her eyes for answers and end up losing myself in the shimmer of her tears. I need to pull her out of this fanciful dream where the two of us end up together.
‘You were right, by the way. About my issues stemming from my dad abandoning me.’ My gaze drifts to the fence and the kids beyond it. ‘The moment he dumped me is the first time I lost trust in everybody and I’ve never been able to regain it.’
I point to the hoop in the distance. ‘That day Pa tried so hard to make this place better for me, he ended up disappointing me because he never truly understood why I brought him here.’
Confusion creases her brow. ‘To push him away, right?’
I shake my head, tapping my chest. ‘Not just that. I needed him to validate what I’d been through, to acknowledge that it all started with his daughter abandoning me. Hell, maybe to even take some of the blame. Which is ridiculous, I know, but I had so many years of pent-up frustration that I needed him to be my saviour and when he didn’t live up to my expectations when I brought him here…I kind of lost faith in anything good happening for me, ever.’
She’s staring at me, wide-eyed, and what I see terrifies me more than anything: acceptance, understanding, with a healthy dose of pity thrown in.
‘Maybe part of the guilt you harbour surrounding your grandfather and not being good enough for him is misplaced.’ She hesitates, before continuing. ‘Maybe you regret not being as close to him as you would’ve liked? And what happened here, him disappointing you, is your way of justifying that?’
I hate how damn insightful she is, and in that moment, I realise she’s right. If Pa and I were as close as I thought, I would’ve been there for him at the end; and before that, for all those years when I abandoned him before he could do the same to me.
‘But just so you know, you are worthy.’ She presses her hand to my heart. ‘And I won’t let you down.’
I want to believe her, I really do. I’ve tried so hard to push her away yet she’s still here, and for a moment I contemplate giving in.
I can let go of a lifetime’s resentment and fear right now. I can let her in. I can have belief that she won’t disappoint me, that she won’t quit on me, that she won’t abandon me.
I want to do it. She’s helped lead me to this moment.
I open my mouth to speak but the words don’t come. My throat is tight, clogged with the fear of taking a leap of faith.
Instead, I shake my head, and her quiet sob undoes me completely.
I hold out my hand, waiting until she takes it before we start walking away from my past and into a future filled with lifeless uncertainty.