Tumble Creek (25 page)

It astonished Sofie how much she and Claudia meant to Brock. His profound and protective statement overwhelmed her with a force that left her breathless, quickly followed by a warmth that penetrated deep inside her chest. Her stomach churned; Brock was ready to give up everything to protect her and Claudia, everything! Could she handle that?
Shit!
Holding a hand over her mouth, she ran towards the kitchen, eyes darting, searching, hoping to find the laundry. She ran through a side door to her left and found the bathroom and toilet. Racing into the tiled chamber, she dropped to her knees, which hurt like a bugger, and vomited to the point of collapse.

Heavy footfalls hurried her way and Brock came running in.

‘Shit,' she groaned. Head pounding, she really didn't want him to see her like this, heaving up the remains of breakfast. She waved a hand behind her, hoping he'd get the message to leave her alone.

He ignored her gesture. Kneeling beside her, he gathered her hair, swept it back with both hands, holding it out of the way as another wave hit. Thinking it was over, Sofie sat on her bum and, trembling, slumped against the wall. Brock disappeared and came back with the face washer that she'd dropped. He rinsed it under a cold tap at the basin, crouched down beside her and swabbed her face. He rinsed it again, folded it and placed it on the back of her neck.

‘Hey, Babe,' he said, his voice on edge, but trying to sound softer, just for her, always sweet just for her.

She lifted her head, but damn it was heavy, like it weighed a ton. His smile was so tender, tears welled.

‘Hey,' she managed to say. ‘Sorry, I'm a bit of a mess.'

‘You fall on your head?' His fingers went to her hair, carefully searching, she guessed, for lumps or cuts. ‘You must've to say something crazy like that.'

Blinking, she dropped her forehead onto her knees and slowly mumbled, ‘I think I'm a little concussed … I'm all right, don't let Jett get away.'

‘He'd have to walk,' he said.

The tinkle of metal caught her attention, she lifted her head a little. The keys to Jett's expensive car dangled from Brock's hand.

‘You're a clever dick.'

Brock grinned and stayed silent. Suddenly, an arm went around her back, the other under her knees: he scooped her up and helped her stand over the basin. Avoiding the mirror she rinsed her mouth, and carefully washed her face, then had a few sips of water.

‘You done?' he asked.

‘Yes, thank you.'

Brock scooped her up again, walked out to the living room and laid her down on the couch with a cool cloth on her head. Fingers under her jaw, he examined her chin. He let her go and hovered over her, emotions in check, face a blank mask except for his eyes: they were resolute, deadly, which was even more worrying than outright rage.

‘Jett knows something about my house,' Sofie mumbled. ‘I never said the truck was stolen, but he knew.' Frowning, she slowly shook her head, and without another word conveyed her thoughts. There was no doubt Brock understood what she was alluding to: his eyes and quick, short nod, was acknowledgement enough that he had the moron who destroyed her home.

‘Sofie,' Jett pleaded, ‘we've known each other since high school. We have a connection and I know we can make a great life together. Even your mother thinks so.'

That her mother was involved really hurt. Exhausted, there was no way to control her emotions; her mouth trembled and tears leaked out the sides of her eyes and spilled down into her hair.

He gave her a warm smile and a slight shake of his head. ‘You and me Babe, with Claudia. Nothing else matters … 'cept Jenn, Calum, Sarge and Gypsy. And Tak of course.'

‘Yeah, there might be a few more, hey?'

‘Just a few.' Eyes following his fingers, he ever so lightly stroked her face. ‘You okay? You don't want to …'

‘Vomit?'

‘Hmm.'

‘My head's thumping … don't feel the need to throw up … I'm okay.' Sofie nodded and ignored everything outside Brock's protective cocoon—let the experts deal with whatever—then exhaustion took over, her eyelids drifted down, the world around her disappeared and she let herself sink into the cushions; restful sleep soon followed.

Chapter 11

Out on the veranda, Brock fought for self-control when all he wanted to do was crush Jett like a bug. To go off the rails would only hurt Sofie, she needed him to be with her, not looking at him through a set of bars, and besides, that would also mean Jett had won the battle. So, to hell with him and his manipulations.

Tyres crunching on gravel had Brock looking up to see Takumi behind the wheel of a police cruiser. An ambulance followed a couple of car lengths behind.

‘I don't need an ambulance,' Jett complained noisily.

Brock bent down, grabbed Jett's shirt and, twisting it hard, he made the mongrel gag. Close to choking the life out of him, he ground out roughly, ‘Are you for real? You fucking arsehole!' Takumi mounted the steps but Brock remained focused. ‘It's not for you, you useless piece of shit.' He shoved him away and flicked his hand as if he'd just touched something foul.

Takumi stopped just inside the cottage door and whispered, ‘Shit man, what happened to Sofie's face?' He didn't wait for an answer, and rounded on Jett, accusingly, ‘You did that—you scum!'

Brock grabbed Takumi's shoulder and held him back, explaining, ‘Sofie's foot got caught on something. I think she fell out of the car, came down hard on her chin. My guess is she didn't have time to protect herself.'

‘Yeah, from that one!' Takumi hitched a thumb at Jett.

‘You may have a point. The medics will assess the damage, she probably needs an x-ray. Could be concussed, vomited her guts up earlier.'

‘Fuck!' Takumi stepped inside the cottage and bent down over Sofie's face for a closer look. ‘Shouldn't concussed people be kept awake?' he whispered.

‘No, that's old school,' Brock muttered.

The paramedics came in carrying their medical kits.

‘G'day, Pete, Harry,' Brock greeted them. ‘In here.' He led them into the living area.

Harry slipped on a pair of gloves and started checking Sofie's vital signs. Lifting her eyelids he checked her pupils with a tiny torch. She slowly focused, and moaning pushed herself up on her elbows.

‘Oh my God. I'm fine,' she croaked past swollen lips. ‘Brock, tell them I'm fine.'

‘Sofe, relax and let them do their job,' Brock ordered gently.

‘But I'm tired, that's all.' He raised his eyebrows and gave her a look. ‘God, all right, jeez, bossy.'

‘We'll take you in for x-rays,' Harry said. ‘You've had a decent whack on your chin. How's your neck?'

‘A bit sore.'

He fitted Sofie with a neck brace, and as they carefully slid her onto the stretcher and were strapping her down, she asked, ‘Is this really necessary? God I feel like an idiot.'

‘Better safe than sorry,' Pete said.

Brock took the opportunity to talk to her. ‘I'll be right behind you, Sofe,' he murmured and kissed her forehead.

They wheeled her out, down the steps and into the ambulance.

‘Bring him in,' Brock said to Takumi, with a sideways nod at Jett.

‘I'd like to just throw him in the back, take the long way home, maybe go bush bashing over the roughest terrain in the country,' Takumi muttered holding the door open for Jett. ‘Get in,' he ordered, and his big hand landed hard on top of Jett's head, shoving him down.

‘Why?' Jett complained, ‘I haven't done anything wrong.'

‘We believe you can help us in an investigation. If you don't come willingly we will get a warrant out for your arrest. In the end, you
will
come in and answer questions.'

‘I'm suing you for police harassment and unnecessary force! I repeat, I did nothing wrong,' Jett bellyached bitterly, dragging his legs into the car.

‘Is he for real?' Takumi asked, pulling a just-tasted-something-sour face.

‘'Fraid so.'

‘You'd better fill me in,' Takumi prompted.

Brock told him what Sofie had said, how Jett boasted about a stolen truck that had ploughed through her house.

‘Okay.' Takumi gave him a devilish, badass grin. ‘We might have our man.'

‘Yeah, there's just a small thing called evidence. Cos we both know, he's not going to confess.'

Takumi chuckled, ‘We'll see.'

Eyes locked on Takumi's, Brock told him, ‘I know you're liking this a hell of a lot, but don't do anything stupid and jeopardise this investigation. I want that mongrel to pay.'

‘Shit no! Don't worry, he'll pay.' Takumi slid behind the wheel, grinning.

Brock glared at the rear end of the police car as it headed down the driveway. ‘Go, mate,' he told himself, ‘hospital now.'

***

Lying in Brock's enormous bed, Sofie started to rouse and, half asleep, stretched her aching limbs. She raised herself up, and resting on her elbows, she listened to the murmur of voices filtering through the open bedroom door. It was Brock speaking just above a whisper with Claudia, who sounded upset, and more guilt fell on Sofie, hard. Sofie needed to get to Claudia, tell her she was fine, it was all an accident. Damn it, she should never have tried to mend bridges with Jett for Claudia's sake … How was she going to explain it all without making Claudia feel worse?

She shoved the covers off, pushed herself up to sit, swung her legs over the side, and waited a moment for the room to stop spinning. Slowly, she stood, but her legs buckled and she fell back on her bottom; bouncing a little on the mattress wasn't great either. She counted to twenty and tried again. It was better this time, blood was finally reaching her brain. She even managed to bend over and pluck her fluffy dressing-gown off a nearby chair. She shrugged it on, and not wanting to scare the crap out of herself with her reflection, bypassed the bathroom as she slowly made her way down the hall to the kitchen.

The moment Sofie entered through the open door, Brock and Claudia swung around to face her. Typically, Gypsy didn't stir from where she slept, curled around Claudia's neck. Sarge lifted his head from Claudia's lap and directed his big brown eyes at Sofie before raising his rump to stand, then he sauntered over and ducked his head under her hand, nudging it for a pat.

Eyes warm, Brock gave her an encouraging smile, moved to her side, and said, ‘The hospital called while you were asleep, it's okay, you can remove the neck brace.'

‘Oh, that's a relief. Ever tried sleeping with one of these?'

‘You did great,' Brock chuckled. ‘Your snoring reached us all the way from the bedroom, has to be a record.'

‘Oh sure,' Sofie mumbled.

Brock came up behind her, eased apart the Velcro strips and gently peeled off the brace, tossing it onto a chair.

Sofie tipped her chin up to give her neck a good scratch and her eyes caught the heart-wrenching look on Claudia's face. She quickly cleared her pissed off expression, but Sofie didn't miss the flicker of emotions: worry, fear, and rage. She went straight to her sweet girl, took her hand and with a little tug pulled her up. Claudia dropped Gypsy on the chair she'd just left and walked into Sofie's arms for a good long mother-hug.

Sofie whispered, ‘I'm fine. It's all good.'

Claudia's chin rested on Sofie's shoulder and she muttered, ‘Really? Not from where I stand.'

‘Oh, but it is, sweetheart. None of it was anyone's fault, okay? I agonised about talking things over with Jett. But I figured this was my last-ditch attempt for us to have a worthwhile adult conversation.
And
, before you both go off your nuts at me, we hadn't arrived at the cabin yet and I knew I'd made a mistake … wasting my time. Unfortunately, as I was hopping out of his car to walk away and call a taxi, I fell. I was so dazed I didn't have the strength to get up. Luckily, Brock was there within minutes. I suppose he's told you everything?'

‘Yes.' Claudia leaned back to look at her. ‘But, Mum, I wish you'd stop doing stuff for me. I can handle it from now on, honestly.' She inclined her head and leaned in, scanning Sofie's face. ‘Your mouth's not as swollen anymore, but your chin and cheekbone are turning purple.'

‘Thanks, Claudie, I really needed to know that.'

‘Well, actually, yes you did,' Claudia insisted. ‘Sometimes,
I
feel like the adult keeping it together.'

Mouth open, Sofie took a long audible gasp. ‘Let me remind you—'

‘Mum, let me remind
you
—how could you fall for Dad's spiel?' Claudia's big dramatic eyes were incredulous. ‘I want you to take out a restraining order on Dad, right now,
today
!'

Sofie turned to look at Brock. ‘She can't be serious?'

‘Deadly.' His eyes flashed to Claudia. ‘Be careful, Claud, your father hasn't done anything that will stand up in court and get you an AVO.'

‘Typical,' Claudia protested.

‘Not at all. You meet up with your father, no matter where, keep your hands to yourself, no more physical contact,' Brock warned. Claudia gave him a belligerent look. ‘Ignoring his demands will help—I mean it. And if he gets in your face, you don't do anything except call me!'

‘Claud?' Sofie urged.

‘Okay—okay.' Grumbling, Claudia slumped in her chair.

‘By the way, there was no personal safe in the cabin, and Jett hadn't handed anything in to the owners for safekeeping. Sofe, man like Jett would've hocked any valuables a long time ago.'

‘Yes, but when he showed me the filigree earrings, I hoped there was more to pass onto Claudia.'

‘Mum, we'll make our own heirlooms,' Claudia announced.

The front door swung open and Walter sang out, ‘Hello!'

‘Oh crap!' Sofie exclaimed quietly. ‘I have to go hide.
Shit.
The bedroom!'