23. Jax #2
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Carter says when I enter his apartment. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a coffee and looking exactly how I feel. I’d like to say I’ll never drink again, but I know that’s a lie. I will. I always do.
“Fuck off,” I grumble.
“Where did you end up last night?” he asks as I grab a mug out of the cupboard.
“Fucked if I know. Some chicks’ house. Well, I hope it was their house.” He chuckles. “Last time I ever drink shots with you, prick.”
“So it’s my fault you got drunk—and laid—last night?”
“You better believe it is.”
“Well, shouldn’t you be thanking me then?”
“Hardly.”
“Wasn’t she any good?”
“They,” I say. ‘There were two of them. And I have no idea. I can’t remember a damn thing.”
“Impressive,” he replies. “Let’s just hope you weren’t so drunk you couldn’t perform.”
“Huh.” I give him my back so he can’t see my face. “Maybe you have that problem, but I certainly don’t. I’m pretty sure I could perform even if I was comatose.”
“Whatever, cock.”
I laugh at his pathetic comeback. He can give it, but he certainly can’t take it. “Did you sleep here last night?” I ask because again, I can’t remember jackshit.
“I don’t know about sleep,” he says, “but yeah, I stayed here.”
“Were you up all nice hugging the toilet bowl?”
“I was hugging something, but it wasn’t porcelain.”
“A bucket?”
“A body, arsehole.”
“As in singular … you probably couldn’t handle two at once.”
“Actually, there were three of them,” he says bringing his mug to his mouth.
“Fucking liar.”
He bursts out laughing because he knows as well as I do, he’s full of shit.
After Carter cooked us some bacon and eggs for breakfast, we went back to bed.
Carter has a one-bedroom apartment, right above his tattoo shop, and I stay on the pull-out sofa.
He bought the building when he moved up here.
Like me, he worked his arse off and saved every penny he could to put into his business. I’m so proud of how well he’s doing.
He’s living his dream. It just proves no matter where you come from, or what struggles you face in life, with hard work and determination, anything is possible.
It’s around 2 pm by the time I finally leave. I love getting away for the weekend. It’s a nice escape.
Well, it is while it lasts. Reality creeps back in as I head down the M1 towards home and my thoughts drift back to my girls. When are we going to get some word from them? I’m not sure how much more I can take. With every day that passes, another little piece of me dies.
Candice has already deprived me of my daughter’s early years, so it infuriates me that she’s doing it again. How did I not see this incredibly selfish side of her before now? If I find them, I’ll be bringing Maddie home, whether Candice likes it or not. She’s my daughter too.
When I arrive back at Newtown, I stop off at the local grocer and pick up a few things before heading home. Maybe it’s time I sold up and moved, just like Carter did. He seems a lot happier where he is. As much as I love my place, there are too many memories here.
My mind is weighted down with all the usual bullshit when I pull up to the kerb outside my place. This is why I need my time at Carter’s. I’d go stir-crazy if I didn’t get away now and then.
Grabbing the bags of groceries off the passenger seat, I get out of the car.
“Jaaaax!” I hear the moment I step onto the footpath.
I know that voice. My head snaps in the direction it came from, and my pulse quickens when I see Maddie running down the path towards me.
I’ve been wishing for this moment for so long, that my first thought is it’s a mirage.
The excitement I see on her face as she approaches hits me right in the chest. Dropping my groceries, I open my arms, scooping her up the second she’s within reaching distance. Fuck, I’ve missed her.
“Peanut,” I whisper as I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her tight. I hold her for the longest time, breathing in her sweet baby powder scent.
She leans her small body back to look up at me. “Daddy?” Candice has obviously told Maddie the truth, which I’m grateful for, but the way she says it sounds more like a question than a statement. She has a right to know who her parents are. Like me, she’s been deceived for far too long.
I’ve missed her sweet little face so much. It’s only been six months, but I’m positive she’s grown. Even her hair looks longer. She may be a mini version of her mum, but I can see what Beau saw now. She does have my eyes.
I love that she has my eyes.
“Yes. I’m your, Daddy.”
Her face lights up before her hands tightly encircle my neck.
“Daddy!” she squeals. A knot forms in the back of my throat when I hear her call me ‘Daddy’ .
It’s a word I never knew I wanted to hear.
I try to keep my emotions in check, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop the tears that rise to my eyes.
My little girl is home . “I wuv you, Daddy.”
The moment those words are out of her mouth I lose it and start to weep.
I’m powerless to stop the tears that fall.
All the anguish and uncertainty I’ve suffered over the past six months have finally come to a head, and all the feelings I’ve been bottling up rise to the surface.
My heart sings with the knowledge that she loves me.
Crushing her tiny body against mine, I hold her tight.
I finally get to savour the wondrous sensation of being a parent.
That’s if Candice doesn’t rob me of it again.
“I love you too,” I whisper. Before I even knew she was my daughter, Maddie captured my heart. I finally have someone to love me just as much as I love them.
Leaning back in my arms again, she frowns as she studies my face. “Don’t cry, Daddy.”
“I’m okay,” I say, smiling. “They’re happy tears. I’m just so glad to have you back. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I miss you,” she says as her sloppy lips meet mine.