Chapter Thirty-Seven
‘I managed to get a train to Paris and then a flight to Dulles. It was a whirlwind, but I’m lucky we acted so quickly – I’ve come straight from the airport, so you’ll have to excuse the general stale smell.
Someone said they’d grab me a suit from somewhere, but honestly, I’ll take a F’resh polo at this point. ’
Every molecule of air has escaped my lungs, flashes of white appearing around my vision. I can’t move, can’t breathe. Austin Taylor is here. In a room. With me.
Max rushes forward and wraps his arms around his father.
Austin immediately turns his face into his son’s hair and kisses him on the side of his head.
When he pulls away, his hands clutch Max’s arms as he holds him out and gives him a light shake, the two of them instantly dissolving into excited chatter.
‘Why didn’t anyone tell me you were gonna make it?’ Max says.
‘Everything happened so fast, and then when it became clear I might actually make it, I wanted to surprise you. Are you surprised? You look surprised.’
‘I just … I can’t believe you’re actually here.’
‘I hope you weren’t too freaked out,’ Austin says. ‘I’m sorry I added to the stress but, my God, Maxie, the place looks incredible!’
Austin and Max finally turn to me, where I pull in what feels like the first breath in years.
‘This is Indie,’ Max says, stepping backwards so we stand shoulder to shoulder.
‘My …’ His voice trails off as he looks at me, red spots blooming on his cheeks.
All the paralysing numbness I felt from seeing Austin Taylor is gone; now it’s like I can feel every individual hair on my body.
I press my lips together, waiting for the rest of the sentence.
Friend? Plus-one? Both would be technically correct, but neither feels right. Max swallows. ‘Indie,’ he says finally.
My Indie.
I bite my tongue against a smile. Now is not the time for smiles. Now is the time for panic.
‘She works at the zoo branch.’
Austin Taylor leans forward, offering me his hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Indie.’
His handshake is firm, his palm soft. I wait for my body’s instinctive recoil, something deep in my bones recognising the threat that is Austin Taylor, but part of me is still recovering from the last five minutes.
Would Max and I have repeated what happened in his basement?
I clench my fists at the thought. I can’t give in to my feelings for him yet, not when I’m on the brink of breaking the curse.
Technically his dad interrupting us is a good thing.
It’s good. I didn’t think it was possible to feel grateful to Austin Taylor, but I guess I shouldn’t be that shocked – tonight has already been full of surprises.
A figure in black appears in the doorway, blond hair slicked back in a neat ponytail.
‘I’ve been trying to … ’ Elizabeth the suit says to Max, exasperated. But when she spots Austin Taylor, she stops short. ‘Oh, Mr Taylor, you’re here!’ She smiles brightly, then turns her attention back to Max. ‘DJ Stevie Steve is insisting that dinner is in his contract.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Max says. ‘There’s, like, an entire email chain about this.
’ He grunts in frustration, then says to me and his dad, ‘I’ll be right back.
Dad, stay here for a sec – I need to figure out how we’re gonna put you back in the programme.
Everyone’s gonna want to hear from you.’ He looks at me, his face suddenly serious.
‘And yes, I picked DJ Stevie Steve exclusively for his name.’
Max follows Elizabeth back towards the gallery, shutting the door behind them.
I grab my clutch and check the time. My hour is almost up.
With Max busy, this is the perfect opportunity to leave, to grab my backpack and finally finish this thing how I planned, while Austin is still occupied.
But I can’t break into Max’s house. Not now.
Not ever. It should never have been an option in my head, betraying Max’s trust like that.
But what else can I do now? I have to break this curse before it’s too late, before Max starts turning too and I can’t be around him any more, can’t hear his laugh up close, feel his skin on mine.
There’s a sound behind me, a groan as Austin Taylor slumps down on the couch.
I rotate slowly, the reality of the situation sharpening.
I am in a room with Austin Taylor. Alone.
The already tiny space seems to shrink even smaller, the air vacuum-sealed through the rectangular vent in the corner.
I stand, frozen, as he pulls out his phone.
His dark hair is rumpled from the long day of travelling, his grey suit wrinkled and splashed with some kind of reddish stain on one of the lapels.
His nose curves in a delicate J, travel-born stubble coating his cheeks and chin.
My eyes narrowing, I watch as he absently scrolls through his phone.
This is the guy that’s been ruining my life?
That forced my dad to the other side of the country?
I don’t know what I expected – a velvet suit à la some kind of Batman villain?
A magical forcefield crackling around him?
Either way, it wasn’t this. This … man, who’s squinting so hard at the microscopic print on his phone that his eyes almost disappear.
Because sitting here, in front of me now, is just a man.
Austin Taylor isn’t some all-powerful monster.
He’s just a man.
Without a word, I slide open one of the folding chairs and lower myself into it directly across from him, so close our knees are almost touching. He glances up and, though a flash of surprise crosses his face, he’s quick to cover it with a smile. Ever the schmoozer.
I fold my hands in my lap. If I can’t steal the binding object, then Austin Taylor will have to give it to me himself.
‘Do you know who I am?’ I say, leaning forward. Despite the fact that I’m sitting across from the man who’s tormented my mother for years, I feel the calmest I have in weeks.
‘Maxie said—’
‘No,’ I say, cutting him off. ‘Who I really am. To you.’
I pull out my cell and show him the picture that’s my phone background. Me and my mom at Christmas. He squints his eyes, trying to see.
‘That’s me,’ I say slowly. ‘And my mom.’
I see the exact moment everything clicks in Austin’s head. He draws in a sharp breath, his body jolting backwards on the couch as though my phone is a weapon.
‘You …’ he gasps. All the colour has drained from his face. ‘You’re Maggie’s daughter.’
‘And you,’ I say, tucking my phone back in my clutch, ‘are going to help me.’
Austin’s mouth drops open but I push forward before he can speak.
‘I know who you are,’ I say, my voice low. ‘I know what you did to my mom. And I’m going to give you one chance, right here, to tell me how to break it.’
‘Break …’ he stammers. At the sound, satisfaction warms my chest. He’s afraid of me. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘No?’ I say. ‘Well, you’d better figure it out, because your own son is at risk now.’
A crease forms between Austin’s brows. ‘Max?’ he says. ‘Does he know who you are? About your mom—’
‘No, he doesn’t know that his own dad put a curse on his ex-girlfriend, my mom, because she broke up with him.
’ Austin’s nostrils flare just slightly, signalling his surprise that I know about the curse.
I’m sure he banked on my mom – easy, capitulating Maggie – never telling anyone.
My satisfaction at his discomfort is quickly dissipating, a scorching anger taking its place.
‘Max has no idea what kind of person you really are. Not yet.’
Though I don’t actually say the words, the threat is clear. Finding out the truth about his dad would destroy Max, so I’d never actually tell him, at least not the whole story, but Austin doesn’t need to know this.
He shifts on the couch. ‘I don’t … what do you want me to do?’ he says. ‘I tried getting in touch with Maggie after everything happened, but I never heard back from her, which is … understandable.’
‘Understandable?’ I sputter. ‘Understandable? You turn my dad, the love of my mother’s life, into an underwater goblin, and her not writing back to your creepy letters is understandable?’
Austin at least has the decency to flinch. ‘I know getting between your mom and dad was wrong,’ he says, running a hand through his hair. ‘I was such a mess, after—’
‘You didn’t just get between my parents,’ I say, my entire body quivering with fury. ‘You turned my dad into the Creature from the Black Lagoon.’
‘It was horrible, I know.’ He holds his hands out in front of him, as though he’s trying to calm me.
As though I am the unreasonable psychopath here.
‘And I’m so sorry. It’s why I started MENtal, to help other men make sense of the way they feel, to stop them from making the same mistakes I did.
I know it’ll never be enough to make up for what I did, but I didn’t know what else to do. ’
I open my mouth to answer, realising belatedly that I don’t actually know what to say to this. Defensiveness, scorn, even boredom – any of those, I could have anticipated from him. But not remorse. Not an apology.
‘Your apology doesn’t mean anything,’ I say, recovering quickly. ‘You ruined my mom’s life.’
‘I know,’ he says again. ‘And I regretted it as soon as I heard your dad had started changing. Even when I broke it, I knew it was too little, too late. It took too long for me to see how dark things had become, and I—’
‘Wait, wait, wait,’ I say, waving my arms. Something in his whiny, self-pitying monologue snags in my head. ‘What do you mean, broke it?’
Austin frowns at me. ‘I … w-well, I broke it. The curse.’
He what?
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘Yes, I did. I ripped the thing clean in half.’
‘The … thing?’
‘The thing,’ he says. Austin mimes ripping something with his hands, as though it’s this part that doesn’t make sense to me. ‘The object. If you want to curse someone, you need an object that binds—’