Chapter 24 #2
“Put your dick in a heritage-breed Merino?” I try to step around him, and once again, he blocks my path. I sigh. “Do you really wanna keep doing this, Hen? ’Cos I can do this all night, and threats to harm are an indictable offence, y’know?”
The concierge appears at my left, looking between me and Henry with a nervous expression. “I’m sorry, is there a problem, here?”
I smile brightly. “Nope. I’m just going up to my room. Right now.”
I finally sidestep Henry and walk to the elevator, my heart pounding.
Betty’s calling again, and I have two new voicemails from Jake.
I ignore them as I lean against the side of the elevator wall and try to steady my breathing.
When the doors fly open, I jump, half-expecting Thrasher to be standing there holding a knife.
He isn’t, of course, and I make my way to my hotel room.
But as I do, a line from some old spy movie floats into my head, ‘We can no longer guarantee her safety.’
But I’m still not scared. And even if I was, the rage in me would rather die swinging than slink out of town.
Every second I’m in Pukekohe is another chance to put these assholes on record. I’m an adult. If they push too far, I can sue the balls off them for harassment, if nothing else.
I walk to the mini-bar and crack open a baby bottle of red wine. My phone is going batshit. Jake is calling almost constantly, and so are Davis and Betty. I turn my phone off and get in the shower to wash my hair and shave everything from the neck down.
I get out and rub grapeseed butter all over my skin, put on my heels, and do my makeup naked in front of the mirror.
It’s hard to look at myself, so I keep my gaze unfocussed as I apply pale gold eyeshadow and strip lashes.
It’s too quiet in the bathroom, so I turn my phone back on.
I try to switch it to airplane mode, but fifteen voicemails flash through before I can press the button.
Jake. Betty. Davis. I tap a voicemail from Betty without thinking.
“Ada, my mum’s freaking out about all this. She’s starting to talk about the things she’s heard. There’s all these rumours about parties, and she’s seen girls get new shoes and cars for God knows what. She’s scared, and you need to listen to me and not go—”
Delete. Music instead. Ethel Cain’s voice fills the room, but before I can hit Do Not Disturb, Jake’s name buzzes across my screen. My stomach flips. I want to talk to him.
I answer.
“Ada!”
His voice is so loud I nearly drop the phone. “What the fuck man? Relax!”
“Where are you?” He roars. It sounds like he’s in a car. “I’ve been losing my fucking mind worried about you!”
“Why?”
A sound like he struck the dash. “ I can’t even begin answering that question. Where are you? At a hotel?”
“Yes. But—”
“Which hotel? I’m coming to you.”
“I’m here too, Ada,” Davis calls down the line.
I frown at my phone. “Why the hell are you two—”
“We’re not getting into that. We’ve been driving around looking for you fuck knows how long, and I’ve had it.”
“You’ve had it?”
“Yes. Do you not remember sending me a voicemail saying you got your fuckin’ tyre slashed—”
“It was Cece’s tyre.”
“I don’t give a fuck whose tyre it was! Aggie told us you’ve been looking into Thompson Farms, and I called Colin and he says you’ve got the whole place losing their shit. I can’t fucking believe you went there on your own. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ada.”
I turn and lean against the bathroom wall, sliding down onto the floor. “You don’t have to get involved.”
“The fuck I don’t. What are you doing now?”
“Getting ready for the cocktail party.”
“No. You can’t go to that. It’s not safe.”
“Fuck off! You can’t tell me what to do. Do you know how sick I am of the men in this town telling me what to do?”
Jake makes a noise like an angry bear. “You don’t understand—”
“Maybe I do, Jake. Maybe I just don’t fucking care.”
“You don’t care about being hurt?”
“No. So I’m going to the cocktail party. If you want to go too, I can’t stop you, but I’m not leaving this alone and that’s a promise.”
He sucks a breath through his breath and I know he’s too furious to respond.
“Ada,” Davis cuts in. “Jake’s been calling everyone he knows, and no one who works at the farm besides Colin will talk to him. The bloke’s shitting himself, reckons whatever you’ve done, you’ve kicked the hornet’s nest.”
“Who cares?” I yell at my phone. “That doesn’t change that I’m the only one who seems to give a shit this is happening. And I’m not scared of hornets.”
“You should be,” Jake snarls. “I would be. I am.”
“Where are you?” Davis asks. “What hotel?”
“The Grand None Of Your Business.”
I hear Jake pound his fist on the dash again. “Do you know what the blokes on that farm are saying about you?”
“That I’m a big woggy whore, sticking my Autistic nose where it’s not wanted? Because I already know that and I don’t give a fuck.”
“I swear to God, Renaldo—”
“Why do you care so much about the farm? You got skin in the game, too? Is that why you’re calling me? You wanna read me the party line like all your mates?”
“No. Stop lashing out and listen to me. I want to keep you safe.”
“You’re about fifteen years too late, jerkoff.”
“You think this is about fifteen years ago?”
“Yeah I do and it’s too little too late, so thanks for roping Davis into your bullshit crusade, but you can just—”
“I wasn’t going to the fucking reunion. I came down with Davis because I’m terrified for you. We all are. Do you have any idea what these blokes might do to you?”
“No. And I’m not gonna scare myself into backing off.
” My voice is ragged, tears threatening, but that just makes me madder.
“I’m done getting shit-kicked, Jake. I’m not going to be reasonable and I’m not going to be the bigger person.
People are always telling victims to be the bigger person when what they really want is for them to shut up.
I’m done. I want blood, and I don’t give a fuck if I get hurt taking it. ”
“You sound like an IRA bomber,” he says, his voice as raspy as mine. “You’re only gonna end up hurting yourself.”
“No, I’ll hurt them too. I’ll make sure of that.”
“And everything you could lose if you do? Do you care about that at all?”
Something about the way he says it slips between my ribs and the tears start to fall. “No.”
“Baby…” His voice softens, and I feel it like a thumb pressed to a bruise.
“I don’t care about anything,” I whisper.
“I don’t hope for anything. I don’t feel anything.
It’s all behind me. I can barely remember what it was like to think things could get better.
But Rhys is gone, and Jenny always wins, and Cece chose Will, and I’m the last man standing. I have to make things right.”
“You’re not,” Jake says. “You’ve got Aggie. You’ve got Cece, you’ve got Davis, and even if it’s complicated, you’ve got me. And I’m not going anywhere, whether you like it or not.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “It still doesn’t matter.”
“I believe you,” he says quietly. “About all of it. You’re right. There’s serious shit happening at that farm, but you can’t go at it alone. You need help. And I can help. Me and Davis.”
For a second, I let myself lean into the comfort of his words. It’s like a shower after a long day, the warm water soaking into my bones.
“Ada?” Jake’s voice seems to come from a long way away. All I want to do is put my head on his chest and cry. I’m so tired.
“I’m here,” I say. “What?”
“You heard me right? About how I believe you? I mean it. I’m really proud of you for going after this.”
Proud of me. The words I wanted to hear for so long. Not from someone who wanted my body. Not from someone who liked my music. Someone who loved me. Saw me. Cared for me. Protected me. I reach for the wine on the bathroom cabinet and drink from the neck.
“Ada, are you there?”
I nod, then realise he can’t see me. “Yes.”
“You’re not alone,” Jake rasps. “And I know I’m not perfect, but I meant it when I said I loved you. I still love you and I want to help. Let me help.”
“You don’t even know me,” I say finishing the last of the wine.
“Yeah, I fucking do, Renaldo.”
“You don’t.” I bite the insides of my cheeks, but the words come out anyway. “I drink too much.”
A soft laugh. “I know.”
“And I get fixated on things.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t have a job. Or friends. And nobody likes me.”
“I know to the first one,” Jake says, steady as a rock. “But you’re wrong on the other two.”
It hurts, how much I like him. His strength and his humour. The way he never lets me get away with things he knows aren’t true. So I say the one thing I’ve never told anyone.
“My parents don’t want me,” I whisper. “They don’t like me. I don’t think they even love me. And what does that say about me?”
“Baby,” he says, so tender it’s like he’s peeling my skin off. “It doesn’t say anything about you. It says everything about them.”
“Don’t,” I plead, scrubbing at my eyes with my fist, smearing makeup everywhere. “I’ll die if you say more.”
“So where are you?”
I don’t answer.
“I’m your friend, Ada,” Davis calls from the background.
I snort, tears and snot spraying down my face. “Fuck off, Mall Pig.”
All three of us laugh.
“I’m your friend, too, Davis,” I say, still scrubbing my face. “Jake… I don’t think we’re really friends.”
“No.” Another huff of a laugh. “But we’re inevitable, aren’t we, baby?”
I press the base of my head against the bathroom wall. It certainly feels that way, but do I have to say it? Feel it? Right now?
“I want you,” Jake says. “I love you. You don’t have to love me back. I’m just… yours.”
I can’t answer, can hardly breathe. I feel so unworthy of the words coming through my speaker. If he knew who I really was, he wouldn’t be telling me this.
“People care about you. We don’t pity you. We don’t want anything. We just love you, and we’ll be gutted if something happens to you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But it can’t work. You’re not my family.”
“I could be,” Jake says. “If you let me.”