Chapter 13 #2
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s funny because I always used to think of what I’d do when I retired.
It’s what kept me going when—” He swallows the words, but I know he’s talking about being held hostage.
The risk of being captured and held is one all journalists and photojournalists face but it had actually happened to Ivo and Max.
“Anyway, I had all these ideas, but I can’t remember what they were now. ”
“You will,” I say gently.
“Maybe I’ll go back. Lightning can’t strike in the same place, can it?”
“Maybe not, but it can still do it a few yards away from the previous spot,” I say, alarmed. I search for a solution…something that will keep him away from the job. “Why don’t you write your memoirs?”
He blinks. “Pardon?”
“You’re a wordsmith, and you’ve had one hell of a life. Write it down, for fuck’s sake.”
“Maybe.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Do it. Who knows where that journey will lead you, eh?” I have an uneasy feeling that he’ll try to go back. Nothing good ever comes from treading old, dangerous paths.
“Maybe.” His eyes sharpen, taking me in. “Enough of me. How are you doing?”
I shrug. “We’re going back in, you know?”
“I’d heard.”
There’s a maelstrom of emotions in his eyes. Relief that he’s not going, mingled with envy, because this job gets its talons into you. Even if you want to leave, it holds on so you can never truly get away.
He catches my hand. “Be careful.”
“I will. You know me.”
“I know you and—” He breaks off as Jez walks up to us.
Max’s expression closes up slightly. I know Max well enough to discern the shift, and I also know that he can’t stand Jez. It’s always been incredibly mutual. Jez views him as competition. Max? I’m not sure what’s at the root of his dislike.
“Max,” Jez says coolly. He’s as soaked as the rest of us, his hair plastered to his skull. “How are you?”
He doesn’t so much as look at me, and I stiffen, my earlier misgivings resurfacing. What the hell is the matter with him? He’s been in a funny mood all morning, alternating between being affectionate and standoffish.
“Fine,” Max says shortly and directs a warmer smile at me. “Good luck.” He nods at us and walks away, a lonely, too-thin figure.
Jez watches him and gives a low whistle. “Since when did he become such a fucking bore?”
“He’s not,” I say shortly and start to walk away. I’ve had more than enough of Jez’s attitude today. I stop when he puts a hand on my arm. “What is it?”
“I need to talk to you.”
My eyes narrow at the grim tone in his voice. “So, we’ll talk back at the hotel. I’m already soaked and cold, and this storm is getting worse.”
“No, now.”
I glance around. The graveyard is empty now, the mourners having left to go to the wake. “Okay,” I say slowly. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” he snaps. His face is cold, a nerve jumping at his jaw as if he’s gritting his teeth.
“Well?” I prompt when he doesn’t speak, and the silence drags on. My heart is hammering, and I already know what he’s going to say before he speaks.
“I know.”
I freeze. “You know what?” I manage to say evenly.
He grimaces. “Fucking hell. Don’t do that.” We stare at each other, and then he snaps, his eyes flaring with rage. “My fucking son,” he says loudly, before pacing away to the gravesite.
I fold my arms over my chest to conceal my shuddering. “I’m sorry,” I whisper when he strides back.
His eyes flare. “You’re not even going to deny it?”
I shake my head.
“And that’s all you have to say?” he demands.
I lick my lips, tasting the rain. “It’s all I can say. I’m sorry.”
He raises his hand abruptly and for a wild second, I think he’s going to punch me. I wouldn’t blame him, and I don’t put up my hands to stop him, but then his hand falls heavily to his side.
“I honestly thought you were going to deny it and tell me that I’d got it wrong,” he says, scanning my face.
I push my hair back and his gaze focuses on my shaking fingers. “I won’t lie to you.”
“Oh, you won’t? How very fucking honourable of you, Reuben.” He spits out the words, his eyes bright with rage. “Unfortunately, you weren’t too honourable to sleep with a kid.”
“He’s nineteen,” I flare.
“Really? That’s what you’re going with? He’s still a kid.”
I slump. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“So why did you do it?”
“I don’t know,” I say numbly. “He’s amazing.” I look up. “I need you to know that the first time, I didn’t know who he was. I picked him up in the bar on the first morning we were at the hotel.”
“The hookup? That was him?” I nod, and he grimaces. “Shit, Reuben. And after that? When you knew who he was?”
“And then I couldn’t help it. You have to know I tried, Jez. I tried so fucking hard, but he’s just so—” The words tumble out of me. I’m almost glad to get them out because they’ve been trembling on my lips for a week.
“So?” he prompts.
“He’s snarky and clever and tries so hard to hide that he’s also kind. Something drew me back to him every time I tried to say no.”
“He’s just a lay like all the others, Reuben,” he says impatiently.
I stare at him. “No, you’re wrong. He’s so much more than that, Jez. You have to see that.”
“I don’t have to see shit,” he says, smacking my hand away when I reach for him. “So, you carried on fucking my son. You covered that up between the two of you. I bet you’ve been laughing behind my back all this time.”
“Never,” I say fervently, following as he moves away. “Never. You must know that. You know I’d never do that.”
“I don’t, because apparently there are vast parts of you I don’t recognise anymore.”
“You do know me. I didn’t do this for fun, Jez. I tried so hard to stop it. It’s all my fault.”
He stops and focuses on my face again. After a moment, his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you’re in love with him.”
I bite my lip hard enough to feel the copper tang of blood fill my mouth. “I am. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. There’s just something about him that is so—”
“What?” he prompts.
“Mine,” I whisper. And the love is suddenly so pure and big that it feels like it will fill my heart and overflow. “And I want more with him,” I add, and as I say it, I know it’s true. I can’t fight Xavier’s pull anymore. “I know I’m not much of a catch for him, but I want to try.”
Jez’s face has become sheet white. “So, you’ll leave me?” he whispers.
“What? No, of course not.”
“There’s no of course about it.” He sucks in breath. “He’ll take you from me. And soon he’ll have you quitting your job and putting down your camera.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re talking about him like he’s the devil.”
“He probably is. He’s been sent to punish me.”
“Jez, that’s your son you’re talking about.”
He shoves his wet hair back. “He’ll win in the end. You’ll see.”
“There is no winning. I’m not a goldfish at a fair,” I say, trying for lightness, but he carries on staring at me. His eyes are busy with something. I think it’s calculation, but he blinks and clears his expression before I can work it out. And now he just looks cold and shut down.
“Never mind. You have to finish with him.”
It takes his words an age to travel from my ears to my brain, but I still don’t understand him. “I’m sorry. What?”
He nods. “Yep. Finish it. I don’t care whether you do it hard or soft.”
“You don’t care?”
He ignores me. “He’s my son, Reuben. I’m prepared to overlook you fucking him, but I don’t want you to see him again.”
“Why?” I say through numb lips.
“Because you’re wrong for him. So wrong.” He pauses and then says coldly. “If you don’t finish it, I’ll cut him off.”
“What?”
He nods, his face cold and determined. “You heard me. I’ll cut off contact with him. I’ll never see him again.”
“He’s your son.”
“That hasn’t stopped you so far.” His eyes burn in his face. “And you know what that’s like, don’t you, Reuben? How much did you miss your dad?”
“Stop it,” I whisper, but he carries on, his voice remorseless.
“Xavier has no one apart from his grandparents, who are getting on. Are you prepared to cost him his relationship with me? What happens if they die? He’ll be alone. No Monique for him.”
The words hit like brutal punches. I can’t get my breath, can’t speak. The world becomes hazy around me.
He hesitates, and then says my name softly.
“You’re wrong for him,” he says, his tone becoming coaxing.
“Think about it.” He takes a step closer, and I fight the urge to recoil from him.
“He’s so young. You’ll drag him down before you even know it.
Soon, his life will be about helping you to keep your shit together.
That’s no life. I should know. It’s what I’ve done with you for years.
” His tone has become sickly sweet. He takes a breath then slowly says, “That’s not what I want for my son, and if you love him, you shouldn’t want it either. ”
His words strike the bullseye of my feelings.
He’s right. I will drag Xavier down. I know there’s something wrong with me.
The claustrophobia is getting worse, as is the rage that comes on me so suddenly.
And it’s probably the beginning of a downward spiral of symptoms. What happens if I hurt him?
He’s such a wonderful person, and he’s far too young to be saddled with an old mess. And he’ll grow to resent me.
I think about Monique and the man she was a mistress to for so many years. He changed as she got older, and I had to witness her closing down when he left her for another younger woman. I had to mop up her tears and listen to her ranting. I don’t want to become that.
I look up, and Jez relaxes at whatever he sees in my face.
He cups my chin. “Good boy. You know it’s the right thing to do.
” His hand falls away, and his face becomes lively, reminding me of the boy I befriended so long ago, with no sign of his previous anger.
“So, you’ll finish it when you get back to the hotel?
” I nod. “Great. I’ll meet you afterwards. ”