TWENTY-TWO
Carlo doesn’t live in the Vale. He lives in the suburbs, not four streets away from where my grandmother used to live. Can I even call her that anymore? She was Eric’s mother and so nothing to me by blood, but she was always good to me. It’s a betrayal to my memories to call her anything else.
His place is big. A three-story detached house with a wraparound garden and a double garage. Dax’s car crunches onto his stone driveway and pulls up beside the monster- mummy-mobile and a gorgeous Harley. Carlo’s bike, no doubt.
I sit for an extra second in the car and stare at the clean, fire-truck-red front door expecting someone to come out and wave me inside. No one shows.
“Are you okay? Honestly, I am surprised you haven’t crashed. You’ve been pretty much in a constant state of shock since that night on the stairs.”
“You mean the whole reaction to trauma thing?” Dax nods. “Yeah, I’ve been strung out a little today, but my life is one long series of traumas. The highs and lows are my norm. I go from mundane to high alert every time I step in or out of the apartment.”
“That’s no way to live.”
I shrug. “It was the only way I knew…and now this.” A curtain twitches in the gleaming bay windows on the far side of the house. A few seconds later, three tiny faces press against the glass, their mouths working furiously and their hands slapping greasy fingerprints across the windowpanes.
I hear Dax’s soft chuckle. “Looks like they want you to come in.”
And that was it, wasn’t it? Those kids, my mum, this was all I ever really wanted for them. This was what I’d made my life’s goal—to get them out of the Vale. To give them a safe home that didn’t involve my father…Eric. They had that chance now. Sure, they were going to face a wall of shit from Eric, but the first and hardest step had already been taken and thanks to Dax they didn’t have to take it alone.
“Dax?”
“Yeah?”
“You know how you promised me anything?” I whisper.
“Yes?”
I swallow thickly. “Please, would you help them? Don’t let Eric ruin this for them. I would have taken years to get this far and honestly, I wouldn’t have provided anything as nice as this, but Carlo can, and he seems like a good man. Would you…could you make sure this sticks for them?”
Dax reaches out his arm as if to touch mine, it hovers in no man’s land for a moment before he drops it again. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”
“I do, because this is more than I deserve. You never really owed me anything for what I did for Tom, no matter what you say. It could have gone either way. I wanted to leave him there. Did you know that? I was so afraid that I considered pretending I hadn’t even seen him.” The shame I feel saying it aloud is like a knife in my own gut. Dax sucks in a breath. I wait for him to yell at me, but when he speaks his voice is soft.
“But you didn’t. You wouldn’t be the first person who wanted to run away from something like that—and in the Vale, where it easily could have been a hoax or a trap—but you stopped, and you helped as best you could. For that, just that alone, I owe you. Even if he had died there on the stairs, I would have been happy knowing that you were there with him at the end. That he wasn’t alone. Thank you, Jules.”
At the time, I’d been consumed with the fear of Tom dying and it being my fault, but Dax is right. If Tom died on the stairs, I’d have been in the right place at the right time to bring him some comfort, to carry his messages for Dax and not allow him to die alone. Dax was happy I’d been there at all. Things would have turned out so differently if I hadn’t.
I focus again on the house. It’s pretty, clean, and made for a family and not a tattooed biker living alone. Had he held onto it, hoping Mum would come home to him?
Dax clears his throat. “Are you ready to go inside yet?”
“I think I have to, whether I’m ready or not. We don’t have much time.”
“I’ll be right beside you. If it gets too much, just say and I’ll get you out of there, okay?”
“Thank you, but I need to get them safe from Franz and Hanson and Eric.”
Dax exits the car, closing the door quietly. He walks around the front and then opens my door for me. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have moved an inch. I think we both know I’m stalling. No matter what my words are saying, my body isn’t playing ball.
He reaches out a hand and I take it. He lifts me to my feet and closes the car door behind me as quietly as he did his own. I guess he’s trying not to spook me. It’s a kind gesture.
We walk together on the path, Dax’s fingers tangling with mine. He doesn’t seem to want to let go, or is it me clutching him as though my life depends on it? I don’t know, I can’t tell. But I don’t put any emotional weight on it either after his withdrawal in the car. I’m learning to differentiate kindness from romantic interest.
The red door opens, Aiden stands waiting as Dax pulls me through into a narrow hallway with a sweet wooden staircase. Photos dot the walls all the way to the first floor. Some show a pair of teenagers laughing in the sun; the girl lounging carefree over the young man’s back. He carries her piggy-back as they wade through shallow water. Their smiles are contagious. I want to smile too because I know without asking that this is Carlo and my mum. I lift my eyes to the next image, one of a tiny newborn, wrapped in hospital towels and cradled in my mother’s arms. Casey, I guess. I look higher. More images from the past interspersed with pictures of Casey in her best dress, eating ice cream, dancing in the fountains at the marina. Stolen moments of a stolen life.
There are none of me.
I swallow a bitter lump in my throat and enter the large living room. An enormous stone fireplace dominates the far wall. The kids jump all over a seat built into the bay window. Mum sits alone at the far end of a stone-grey sofa and Carlo…Dad…paces in and out of the archway between the sitting room and the dining area.
He stops as soon as I step into the room behind Dax. He turns to look at me and I can’t understand what he’s thinking. Only his fear is familiar. I imagine I look much the same.
“Are you okay?” Mum asks, rising to her feet until I shake my head and she sinks back down again.
“No. I don’t think I am, but we need to sort some things out.”
“Jules…” Carlo begins and then stops. The pain seems to writhe on his face as he clamps his mouth shut and draws my mother a look that would sting if she noticed it. He resumes his pacing.
Whatever. That is their discussion to have. Not mine. No excuses will make any difference now. The damage is already done. There are other problems to resolve, with Eric and Barry Franz taking the top slot on that list.
“Look, I know there is a lot to be said, but we have other issues.”
Dax squeezes my fingers and steps forward. “Eric,” he begins solemnly, “has engaged the help of Barry Franz. From what Jules and I overheard them saying in the apartment tonight, Eric has done a deal ensuring that Franz gets Jules in exchange for his boys.”
“And Mara and Casey?” Carlo asks, urgency spitting his words out fast and hard. I grit my teeth. Here’s another father who doesn’t give a shit about me. Dax stiffens beside me but answers Carlo’s question.
“He is letting Franz’s men do what they want with Mara, though he’ll probably deliver her to Eric once they’re done. He’ll likely keep Casey for himself. Eric only wants his sons, not your woman or your daughters.” The emphasis he lies on the plural is a reprimand and one that drains the colour right out of Carlo’s face.
I don’t dwell on it or on the things Dax isn’t saying about the creepy way Franz focussed in on my baby sister.
There’s something that’s been bugging me since we left the Tower. Eric doesn’t have connections, wealth or anything of real value…so what chips could he have bargained with? It’s a question that thrums like electricity under my skin, dangerous and urgent, so I ask it out loud and hope that my suspicions are wrong. “Eric is a bastard, and we always knew it, but here’s the thing that worries me; Eric made a deal. What the hell has he given Franz? What information did he give him in exchange for the twins? Whatever it is, it’s big, because not only is Franz to take me but Dad…Eric…earns money from me for the rest of my life, if I heard right.”
“What?” Aiden growls.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Carlo shouts.
Dax explains. “When Franz is done questioning her, he’ll have his men break her in and then he’ll send Jules to Hanson’s to work as one of his whores.”
“Fuck! No fucking way!” Aiden bellows.
Carlo shakes his head, muttering all the while. “Half those girls are strung out. Franz and Hanson own them. They pay them in lines of coke and heroin wraps. Is that what he means? Is that what they are planning to do?”
“No one is going to do anything,” Dax insists.
“You are all missing the fucking point!” I yell over the top of them. “He. Traded. Something! Eric Feelan doesn’t have anything of value, so what has he given them? Information? Gresh told him you were at the bar, so they know about that. Can they take the bar from Carlo?”
“Yes. Force him to give it up or get rid of him and forge the paperwork,” Aiden agrees.
Could that be it? “Okay, but property isn’t…it doesn’t guarantee Carlo will hand the kids over.”
“No, but property is what this war is all about. Diverprop wants Harrison, Vale and all. One more property in its portfolio might not sound like much to you, but it’s another square on the chessboard for Franz.”
“Still, it doesn’t feel like enough, and Eric can’t ‘sell’ that…” My mind stumbles over anything that might seem worth trading, but nothing fits. Not the information he has or the access to my schedule or the places Mum and the kids might hide…wait, Dad knew all about Carlo. He knew Mum’s secret mobile number and where she would be…Could he know this address? Could they be coming here next? “Mum, didn’t you say Dad threatened you while you were staying here?”
“He’s not your father!” Carlo barks.
“Yes, he said he’d kill us all,” Mum confirms, ignoring Carlo’s outburst.
“Then he knows this address,” I assert, staring helplessly from Aiden to Dax.
Aiden steps forward and lifts Casey from the window. He pops her onto his hip and smiles at the boys. “Ten-hut!” The boys jump down and stand at attention. They are tired and a little uncoordinated after today at the zoo, but I suspect there is nothing they wouldn’t do if Aiden asked. “I’m taking the kids to the car. You and Mara grab anything you might need and meet me out there.”
“What are you thinking?” Carlo asks.
Dax sighs hard and fills us in as Aiden wrangles the kids. “We’re taking you into protective custody. We’d hoped for more time. We wanted to talk to you and give you the choice, but Jules is right. He sold them information. He didn’t have Jules to hand over, so he gave them the next best thing. This address, the bar, the girls. Look, it doesn’t matter what he gave them. Either way, men are coming. We all need to leave now.”
Mum grabs her purse and shoots to her feet. She follows Aiden out to the minivan and helps him strap the kids in. Carlo bounds up the stairs, three at a time. I watch from the doorway unsure what I do now.
Aiden races back in and shouts upstairs to Carlo. “Blankets?”
“Cupboard at the top of the stairs! Jules?”
Aiden dashes up the stairs three at a time.
“Yeah, Cue-ball?”
“Kitchen cupboard over the oven, get out the coffee container tucked in the corner. Use a stool if you have to.”
“Got it.” I run to the kitchen and drag a stool over to the cupboard. Everything is so tidy and huge. The fitted cabinets are top-of-the-range and the appliances gleam. I try not to get distracted but see touches of my mum’s influence everywhere. Have they been building this home together? When were they planning on making the move?
I reach into the cupboard and pull down the can. I can’t stop myself from pulling up the plastic lid and spying inside. After all, who takes coffee with them when they go on the run?
Fuck. My family are going on the run, and it is all my fault.
The can holds rolls of cash. More than I’ve ever seen, even after cashing the tills at the end of a busy night working the bar. I dart back out, snapping the plastic lid back on securely, and hand the can to Carlo, who waits for me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Do you have everything you need, kid?”
“Do I…?” Is he suggesting I go with them?
Dax steps forward; a refuse sacks full of the kid’s belongings in his hand. “Jules stays, Carlo.”
“What? Why?”
“Hiding her with you will just keep you all in danger. If Jules stays away, you at least have a chance of keeping safe,” Dax explains to us both. It makes sense, but the idea of letting them go and being on my own… is this what I want? Does it matter what I want? When has it ever mattered before?
“No.” Carlo shakes his head. “She’s mine. I can protect her. I only just found out about her…you can’t take her away from me now!” Carlo grunts, waving the arm carrying the can around wildly.
“It won’t be forever, Cue-ball.” I force a pained smile to my lips and try to make it feel genuine. I can’t, but I try. Hearing him say that, hearing that he wants me, that he accepts me, makes everything click into place. He wants to protect me by keeping me in sight, and I instantly realise that the only way to protect them all—everyone that I love— is to keep them as far away from me as possible. Eric’s deal is void if they can’t find me; if the intel is bad.
“Go. Get those kids safe. Give the boys a real father. Casey…and I… were born with one, but those boys need you too.”
Carlo’s features twist again. His green-blue eyes glisten as he nods. “I should have seen it before now. He takes my hand and presses a set of keys into my palm. His eyes catch on my wristwatch again and he smiles brightly. “Fuck. It was right in front of my face this entire time. I gave your mum this watch when we were kids.” He taps the square face, the numbers disappearing under his fingers for a second. “She was always late for our dates, so I slipped this on her wrist and told her she had no more excuses. I always wondered why she gave it to you. I guess this was her way of making sure you had something of me with you always. I should have realised, but I only ever saw your mother’s beauty in you. It made you hard to be around. Turns out, you were always a little of me, too. You have my grit and determination. You’re strong. Make sure you stay safe and get back to us fast. Twenty years is a lot to catch up on.”
“You mean stubborn and moody, right?” I laugh, dropping the keys into my pocket. “I’ll stay safe. I promise.”
Aiden charges down the stairs, his arms laden with pillows and blankets for the children. “We need to move. Did you sign the paperwork?”
Carlo cusses and disappears back into the kitchen.
“Only call me when you are coming back to us,” Dax warns Aiden.
“Get back to the compound. You will be protected there. My men are already on alert, and I’ll be back as soon as I get these guys to the first safe house.”
Dax nods, happy that Aiden knows what he’s doing.
“You’re going with them?” I’m struck by two conflicting emotions: relief and fear. I’m scared for Aiden. Scared he’s not coming back to me.
Aiden’s hands are full, but he takes a step in my direction and leans his forehead onto mine. “I’ll keep your family safe. As soon as I can get them into hands I trust, I’ll be coming straight back to you both, okay?”
My voice is small and shaking. “Okay.”
“Stick close to Dax. Be safe.” He leans back, presses a soft kiss to my forehead and pulls away with a smile and a wink before running for the car and stuffing the blankets into the footwell at the base of the kids’ dangling legs. He removes my backpack from the back and leans it up against the chrome wheels of Dax’s car.
My fingertips trace my skin where he kissed me, as if expecting to find it changed somehow.
“Little gem?” Dax rumbles. I’m not sure if he’s asking if I’m okay or warning me to pull myself together.
“I…I didn’t know he would…”
“We’ll discuss exactly what just happened later. For now, focus.”
He’s right. I’m about to lose my family and I’m too busy moping over some kiss that was probably only an innocent goodbye. Friends kiss, right?
Carlo grunts and grumbles as he follows Aiden out of the house, this time carrying a folder of paperwork. “How the fuck do I go from grateful to wanting to kick his teeth down his throat?”
Dax mutters, “Tell me about it,” and follows them out. I watch my family bundle into the car, my mum squashing in beside AJ, whose booster seat has been shoved to the floor.
Dax and Carlo whisper by the passenger door, until Carlo eventually gives Dax the folder of paperwork. My world is leaving without me, and there is nothing I can do.
I hover just inside the entryway. I can’t bring myself to step outside. Aiden and Carlo make it to the car’s front doors before I call to them. Aiden stops when Carlo does. “Dad! Tell Mum and the kids I love them, okay?”
Carlo’s shock mirrors my own. I have no idea why I called him Dad. Perhaps because it might be my only chance?
“You’re not coming out?” he asks when he finds his voice.
“No. I…I can’t. It’ll be better if I don’t.” I nod my head toward the kids and, thankfully, Carlo understands. I can’t smile and wave them off as if they’re just going out for ice cream. I can’t look at them and not freak the hell out. Or freak them out by crying. I can’t say goodbye. Who knows how long before I see them again?
He nods and slides into the passenger seat.
Aiden looks right at me and frowns. I can feel his hesitation from where I stand. He pulls open the door and almost turns away before cursing loudly and storming over to me.
“Fuck it!” He charges toward me without slowing and sweeps me up into his arms, pulling my legs around his waist and thrusting us both into the wall. It thumps against my back just as Aiden claims my lips. His kiss is fevered, rushed, desperate. His mouth is demanding, but I give myself over freely to his kiss and the thick heat of his tongue. He kisses me until I’m glad he’s holding me upright and then his lips are gone from my mouth and come to rest in the hollow of my throat. The sensation is thrilling. His wet lips pressing sweetly against sensitive skin. I raise my head to offer him more of my throat, but instead of taking more, he sighs. His warm breath pebbles my skin.
“I couldn’t leave without doing that, even though I know you’re not ready and my timing sucks. I just want you to think of me and not discount me while I’m gone.” He leans back and the sheepish grin he wears looks like trouble. “Don’t worry. They’re natural born survivors, remember?” he says, rallying me as though he knows exactly what I’ve been fretting over.
And yeah, I remember. They are. They’ll be fine. Me on the other hand—
“I need you to keep the boss man safe. Get out of here as soon as we’ve cleared the street,” Aiden adds. I sense he’s trying to refocus me, giving me a sense of purpose now that he’s driving mine to God-knows-where, or does he actually expect me to watch over Dax?
The man in question pats Aiden on the back and mutters something about no time left for goodbyes.
Dax and I stand as one, watching Aiden get swallowed up by the car. Dax grabs for my fingers again and links them gently with his, careful to protect my palms. We listen as Aiden turns over the engine. I squeeze Dax’s hand a little tighter when Aiden puts his foot on the gas and leaves Dax and I alone in the silent house.