Chapter Three #3
‘Enough.’ I slice the air with my free hand, exasperated by the chaos she has already brought to my life today—all the risks I’ve had to take, the rules I’ve had to bend to keep her from causing even more drama. And my reward? Lies, defiance and a faux naivety that makes me want to shake her.
‘Don’t play the innocent with me, Hennessy. I may not run in your circles but that doesn’t mean I was born yesterday. I know you hid something in there back at the apartment. Just like you were hiding something from that creep in Vegas.’
‘By “something”, I take it you mean drugs.’ The haughtiness in her voice matches the disdain in her eyes but her hands are clenched by her sides, the knuckles white.
I shrug. ‘If that’s the case, I’m giving you a chance to tell me so.’
‘I don’t know about being born yesterday but I think someone must have dropped you on your head when you were born.’ She shakes her head. ‘I wasn’t hiding drugs from Alex. I was hiding his car keys—to stop him from driving, because he was stoned.’
‘And you’re such a good citizen.’
The sneer in my voice makes the delicate curve of her jaw tighten.
‘Not often, no, but on that occasion I was trying to do the right thing. Not that it’s any of your business.
’ She stares at me coolly. ‘You know, I thought I was staying here as your guest, but you’re acting like I’m under house arrest. News flash—you’re not in charge of me. ’
‘Wrong,’ I say flatly. What’s more, unlike in Vegas, I’m in charge of myself this time. I’m not going to be swayed by that trembling mouth or the quiver in her voice. ‘You’re living under my roof, my rules. Last time, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. That’s not happening here.’
‘There’s such a thing as privacy, you know,’ she snarls, and I catch a glimpse of her small, white teeth.
I hold her gaze. ‘Last chance…’
She grabs for the bag, but I lift it out of reach and, given that she barely reaches my shoulder, she would need a stepladder even to come close.
‘You can’t do this, Renzo.’
‘Oh, but I can, and I will. You might be able to wrap every other man around your little finger, but I see you. I know exactly how low you stoop, so tell me what’s in the bag or I’ll find out for myself.’
Her face stiffens, as if I’ve slapped her. Her arm drops, and she steps back unsteadily, but I tell myself that I don’t care. That somebody needs to call time on her little antics.
‘You’re wrong. But nothing I can say will change your mind.’
She reaches into the pocket of her jacket, pulls out something and slams it against my chest. ‘But maybe these will. If not, call Carrie—Carrie Kilroy. She’s my sponsor. You can get her number from the local AA. They’re online.’
AA? I am knocked sideways—stunned, wordless. Questions swirl inside my head but, before I can voice any of them out loud, she turns and walks swiftly out of the room.
Hennessy
I don’t know where I’m going. I just know that I’m this close to bursting into tears and I can’t let Renzo see me cry. Not after what happened last time. My heart aches as though it is bruised. Because he does remember what happened in Vegas, and he hates me for it. But he was wrong then too.
Breathing raggedly, I move swiftly through the apartment, past doors and up a flight of stairs until I am outside on the roof terrace and there is nothing between me and the sky.
For a moment, I breathe in deeply, seeking calm, trying to fill my lungs with air and push back against the pain beneath my ribs as I pace back and forth.
When finally my legs slow, the lights of the city are brighter than the sun.
I need to leave, that much is clear. Whatever predators await me at my apartment, anything has to be better than staying here and fielding this barrage of accusations and prejudice from Renzo.
To my relief, the hallway is empty, and I jab the lift button.
It takes three more jabs before I remember that it is locked, and Renzo has the key card.
But the stupid thing is that, even if I could leave, I wouldn’t.
Everything that matters to me is in that bag, and besides, I have nowhere to go.
Only ‘inappropriate’ people want me in their lives, and I can’t be around those people.
I don’t want them in my life. I never did, but nobody ever asked me what I wanted.
I turn and let my body slide down the wall. Sucking in a breath, I press my head against my knees and push back against the lump building in my throat. Tears burn the back of my eyes.
I hate Renzo. I hate that he thinks so little of me and I don’t know what I’m going to do. Because, honestly, who am I trying to kid? I can’t run Wade and Walters. I’m only just managing my own life. I can’t be responsible for three thousand other people’s lives as well.
‘Hennessy?’
I freeze. Between the triangle of my elbow and thigh, I can see a pair of hand-made leather brogues.
Renzo is standing beside me. My stomach rolls.
I may be many things, but I’m not a coward, so I lift my head.
He’s lost the jacket and tie and undone the top button of his shirt and he’s holding my bag in one hand.
In the other is a cuddly, brown bear: Albert.
‘I’m guessing that is what you were hiding.’
I thought he would laugh at me, scorn me—a grown woman with a cuddly toy.
Nobody knows about Albert. I am surrounded by—I correct myself: used to be surrounded by—people who pounce on any weakness and exploit it for their own ends.
But Renzo’s face is expressionless, which is maybe why I am able to nod.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were doing AA?’
He drops the bear into my lap and my hands tighten around Albert’s familiar body. ‘I didn’t think you’d listen or believe me. You have a habit of not believing me.’
Something flickers in his eyes. ‘Does Antony know?’
I nod. ‘But you wouldn’t listen to him either.’
He stares at me. ‘Because he has a blind spot where you’re concerned.’
‘We’re friends.’
His gaze narrows and I know that he wants more than anything for that not to be true. But it is true, and he hates me for it. And for getting Antony expelled. But most of all he hates me for kissing him. I push the kiss away. I can’t have that in my head right now.
‘So, you’ve been going to meetings?’
My pulse jolts sideways as he sits down on the floor next to me. Even though there are several layers of clothing between my skin and his, I can feel the heat of him. It is almost impossible for me to stay sitting because he is so close. At least his voice is not soft. I find kindness hard.
‘There’s always a meeting somewhere. I just go wherever I am. But Carrie’s been with me since the start.’
‘She seems very committed.’
The walls of the hallway seem to shudder. ‘You spoke to her?’ I thought he’d changed his mind because of the sobriety chips I’d slammed against his chest.
‘I did what you said—I called the number on the website. It took a little time, but they got through to her, and she called me back.’
I stare at him, torn between disbelief and astonishment. But then, is it so surprising? Renzo is like the Terminator. He probably doesn’t sleep, eat or give up. He is legendary for both his thoroughness and his persistence.
‘What did she say?’ Something between pride and panic shoots through me. How much did Carrie tell him? She is my sponsor, so it should be confidential.
‘Not much.’ He smiles then, a little slant of a smile that makes my centre of gravity tilt sharply. ‘She’s very much Team Hennessy, but she confirmed your story.’
It’s not a story, it’s my life. ‘Story’ makes it sound like a fairy tale, which is pretty much what most people think my life is like.
Of course, they mean the sanitised, animated versions with fairy godmothers, handsome princes and happy-ever-afters.
But I don’t have a mother, or not one that acknowledges me, and instead of princes in my life there are frogs.
Except frogs are cute and they’re fit for purpose. As for happy-ever-afters…
‘Did you try rehab?’
Renzo’s voice snaps me back into my body. I screw up my face. ‘For a nanosecond. But how long do you think that would have stayed off the front pages?’ I ask.
‘Fair point.’ His gaze is calm and my pulse flickers as it lingers on my face.
‘And those places are filled with people like me. I wanted to be around people who were different—get a different back story, a different perspective.’
‘Walk a mile in another man’s shoes.’ That slanting smile comes again.
There is a micropause. For a moment I am mesmerised by the clean curve of his mouth and then I glance down at my heels. ‘Not these ones.’
His eyes follow mine, linger a moment, and his gaze vibrates through my skin.
There is a beat of silence and abruptly he gets to his feet and holds out his hand. I hesitate, then hand him Albert. He tucks him into the bag, reaches down and pulls me to my feet. Maybe it’s the heels, or perhaps it’s because I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, but I lose my balance.
Who am I kidding? It is him.
Renzo’s hand tightens around mine as he steadies me. My fingers twitch against his skin, and I feel his pulse lighting up the veins in my arm. I stare up at him mutely, drinking him in, as something dark moves in his gaze.
The air flutters and ripples outwards. There is sudden stillness in the room, like a held breath, and I know that he is aching the way I ache.
Our breaths hitch as one and we crack at the same time.