Tumble Creek (36 page)

‘Extreme pain and nausea woke Susanna early the other morning,' he answered. ‘She and Raff have a long-standing promise, if anything happened and other needed to know about it, they'd make the call, no hesitation. Raff had only spoken to her the night before, telling his Mum about all of us and how it went. The pain and nausea was different, something she hadn't experienced before, but considering her old injuries and numerous operations Susanna worried. A specialist sent her straight to the Royal Prince Alfred with appendicitis. Raff and I had no idea what was wrong until we got there. We didn't see Susanna until after the op. She's fine now.'

‘That's good, but a simple text would've …' Oh damn, she'd said the wrong thing and quickly added. ‘A simple explanation could've saved me a lot of anxiety.'

Brock's mouth thinned and his sharp eyes narrowed in on her. ‘One word, Sofe—trust. Now give—me—your—phone,' he ordered looking very pissed off.

‘Oh …' Sofie whispered sounding guilty.

‘Yeah …
oh
!' his tone a verbal poke, and hand out he waited.

There was no point in refusing him, so, reluctantly, Sofie tugged her phone out of her back pocket and handed it to him. Elbows on her knees, face in her hands, and feeling wretched, she waited for the inevitable. He flicked through and found his message telling Sofie what had happened with Susanna and turned the screen towards her. She read it and remorse prickled her skin.

‘The same would go for you, Sofe, a text, a few words,' he muttered. ‘But I got nothing. How was I going to help, if you didn't tell me what I was supposed to help you with? Takumi had Jett cuffed and in the car for demolishing your house. You needed to tell me what he was doing there—
doing to you
—then I could've dealt with it.'

Back ramrod straight, lips pressed together, Sofie stared at him, and didn't miss that there was a lot of thinking going on behind his eyes.

‘What was it, Sofe? What's the arsehole doing?'

Her lips began to tremble. That God-awful lump in her throat thickened and tears welled. But she didn't speak, she couldn't speak about this, never,
ever
.

Brock slowly nodded. ‘You know, Sofe, I've seen it all. There's nothing—
nothing
that would faze me, or make me think less of you.' He paused, encouragement etching his face. Moments passed and he gave a small shrug, which told her he'd given up waiting and to brace herself. ‘Let me guess.'

Horrified, Sofie's heart skittered and she broke out in a sweat. ‘Please don't, Brock. Please just leave well enough alone.'

‘No, can't do that. I need it all so that I can protect you when it all blows up in our faces. And it will, Sofe, it always does.'

Shaking her head she cried out, ‘No it can't—it can't!' Tears trembled in Sofie's eyes and her hand went to cover her mouth trying to hold back the wretchedness holding her prisoner.

‘Now you're just trying to be cute.' Brock smiled, gentle eyes flicking to hers as he studied her face. Then he said something that rocked her world. ‘Sofe, I know you feel trapped. You're thinking anything you say will change the way I feel about you. But really, the opposite is true, believing in me shows that I have your trust. There's nothing more important than love and trust. They go hand in hand. You have to have both for a relationship to work. And Babe, you have mine.'

Breathless, Sofie let that sink in and slowly nodded.

‘Just tell me … it'll be easier for both of us, but especially for me so I can protect you. Please start at the beginning. When you arrived at Jett's place. What were you looking for? What did you touch?'

Brock wasn't going to give up. ‘Okay, well …' Head down she gazed at her fingers twisting in her lap.

‘Babe …?'

She raised her chin, and nodded. ‘Right … well, the first thing that hit me was the pile of mail sticking out of the letter box. I didn't touch it. I had the keys ready and hurried to the door. I made sure no one was watching, then I quickly slipped on a pair of latex gloves, and opened the door.' Brock nodded, relief washing over his features; Sofie imagined it was for the latex gloves. ‘The next thing that hit me, apart from the fact all the blinds were closed, it was gloomy and stale inside, there wasn't any furniture, except for a small camp table and chair. I wandered through and found the bedroom. Again no furniture, the mattress was on the floor, rumpled bed, grubby linen, and that was it. I opened the closet, his expensive clothes were packed in tall boxes ready to move. There were four boxes stored on a shelf above. I managed to pull them all down and searched through them, thoroughly. There was one full of documents, but it didn't have what I was looking for, nor did I find the jewellery that he stole. Especially our grandmother's rings. Rings that should've gone to Claudia. Anyway, his laptop was in that box as well. I assumed what I wanted would be on his laptop. I needed his password to get in. I tried several, but I wasn't having any luck, so I took it and left.'

‘What was it that you were looking for?' Brock prompted, ‘Sofe?'

Heart hammering, Sofie gulped back the bile rising up her throat and whispered, ‘Um … photos.'

***

Brock waited to hear more but, after a long pause it was obvious, judging by Sofie's stricken face, she couldn't open up. Better, for her sake, to get this over with. Brock chose the most humiliating idea he could think of that would make Sofie go the lengths she did. He stayed calm on the outside, but burned on the inside, ready to tear the arsehole limb from limb for putting his girl through this nightmare.

‘Sofe,' he called. She blinked a few times and brought her attention from wherever the hell it had been back to him. ‘The photos were of you, weren't they?' Ashamed and embarrassed, she dropped her head. ‘And they were of you naked, having sex, yeah?' He waited as she struggled with her inner demons … and won. She proudly brought her head up and, unwavering, her eyes met his. Brock sent her a ‘bravo' smile he hoped gave her the courage to go on. ‘Is that all?' She nodded. ‘You destroyed them?' She shrugged. ‘Okay, you're worried there might be more copies stashed somewhere?'

‘I didn't find anything else, no USB sticks, nothing. I—I took his laptop to a quiet place and drove over it several times.'

The imagery of his sweet Sofie crazy driving over a laptop made him throw back his head and laugh. On a chuckle, he asked, ‘After that what did you do with the remains?'

‘I pulled the guts out of it, drove over it a few more times, then scraped up the mess, shoved it in a rubbish bag and threw it in one of those big bins behind every pub and …'

Brock lost it again, laughing until his stomach muscles hurt, and that wasn't an easy thing to do. ‘Christ, stop—stop!' He straightened to see Sofie was laughing and crying at the same time; he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing so he made a decision, took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the positive. ‘I'm good, keep going, Babe.'

‘Okay, I'd gone through all of his accounts, there's a pile of outstanding bills, he's broke. He couldn't afford a safety deposit box, and anyway, he's not that smart. None of his keys show he has a locker somewhere, so I can only assume they were on his computer.' She pulled a wry face. ‘Come to think of it, compared with what you see teens do today, my photos were pretty tame, but what matters is, they were of me. And that's private.'

‘It could be he was bluffing.'

‘Yes, it had crossed my mind. Anyway, he doesn't have a laptop anymore either.'

‘Come here, Babe.' He didn't wait for her to move and lunged forward, wrapping her up in his arms he cradled her on his lap. ‘Tell me honestly, how're you feeling?'

‘Like a complete fool. Abused, traumatised, embarrassed. Just put every negative emotion in a bucket and stir.'

‘Hmm, how old were you when all this happened?'

‘I was about nineteen, way before social media could get you into trouble.'

‘Teenagers think they're invincible, bullet proof.' Her body flinched against his. ‘Babe, it's just a saying.' She shoved her head in the crook of his neck and nodded. ‘I could tell you stories about me that would make your hair curl, or in your case, stand on end. Hormones start racing in young guys and they'll stick their dicks any—'

In a flash, her hand came up to cover his mouth.

‘You've seen
American Pie
?' he mumbled behind her palm.

Sofie giggled, she understood him perfectly.

Brock smiled as her despair evaporated, and with it the last tear that trickled down her cheek.
She's here and she's safe.
Relief washed through him, she didn't know how lucky she'd been not to get caught at Jett's townhouse.

He chuckled, kissed and then licked her palm. She moved her hand so he could have access to her fingers.

‘Babe …' he murmured against her thumb as he nipped her there. ‘It's been days. I missed you.' Voice a sincere husky rumble, he repeated, ‘I really missed you.'

Epilogue

Six months later, life's dramas had settled down. Jett pleaded guilty for stealing a truck and demolishing Sofie and Claudia's home. His impulsive, desperate bid to get them back to live in Sydney; his sole purpose—money for a lifestyle he'd grown accustomed to. She hadn't known Jett to be impressionable, but then Sofie's mother was a first class manipulator. Jett and her parents had made quite a threesome. Except now that he was in jail, they'd wiped him from their lives faster than dog poop off their shoe; still poop stinks, and in their social circles it meant they had a lot of explaining to do.

Prepared to do anything to reduce his sentence, Jett agreed to sign a legal document that said he would never come within one hundred kilometres of Sofie or Claudia. Sofie hoped his jail time would be longer: five years wasn't enough for all the heartache and aggravation, especially to his own, sweet daughter. Not to mention destroying their home.

After Takumi replayed the blackmail threats recorded on his phone, Jett never mentioned his missing laptop or the photos again. Maybe it
was
all a big bluff. She would never know and didn't care.

Sofie told her parents she would only speak to them on her terms and when she was good and ready. After finding out that yes, her mother in particular had plotted with Jett, contacting them would take a while. Her life was a damn sight better without her mother's constant criticisms casually strewn in amongst her idle and not so idle chatter. And her father's compliance was a complete disappointment, no contact with him either, unless he suddenly grew a pair.

Sofie changed her and Claudia's mobile numbers and only gave it out to close friends and family.

Finally, they were free.

A clean breeze had entered her life, and blew all the crap away.

Claudia had the same thoughts, and more. She told Sofie, ‘Mum, get a life and stop asking me how I am.'

She needn't have worried, Claudia was the happiest teenager she'd seen in a long time. No more Goth make-up, no more restless sleeps, and only occasionally would the ‘attitude' flare, which was normal. They laughed and joked together. The four of them—Sofie, Jennifer, Michelle and Claudia—often went shopping or to the movies together; romantic comedies were a favourite.

Sofie still worried about Britt, but the whole bank fraud business was done and dusted. All the culprits were behind bars awaiting a bail application and their ensuing trial. So where the hell was Britt? Brock had told her that he expected Takumi would soon take leave without pay and start searching. But where would he start?

Sofie had in mind that Takumi could escort Claudia and Michelle when they flew to London to visited Rafael and Susanna. The girls had a standing invitation to come stay with them anytime. Susanna and Rafael were in town for Christmas and staying in Sofie and Brock's new guest rooms.

Their new house was the talk of the town.
Vogue Magazine
came to take photos and write a piece about how easy it is to build a modern, rammed-earth, very comfortable, very beautiful home that was also environmentally friendly. Brock insisted on water tanks under the house, double glazing, a geothermal heat pump to warm the house and of course solar panels on the roof. Their home was open plan, spacious, airy, and situated so the sun would pour in during the winter months. Claudia had her own teen suite, which she'd decorated herself, and there wasn't a hint of black anywhere. Yes, everything had taken a turn for the fantastic. Sofie and Brock's bedroom suite was on the opposite end of the house. The guest quarters were an extension of the garage, with its own two bedrooms, kitchenette, dining room and lounge.

It took the builders six months. And Sofie was there with her camera at every stage. The house-building album bulged with wonderful photos, to reminisce over and laugh, at times to cry out, ‘Oh my God it's a wonder no one was hurt,' and some that were just plain
lovely
.

Sofie and Brock worked on the trampled garden beds and laid new lawn along the front and down the back. A new six-foot rendered brick fence, with a stunning arched timber Moroccan-style gate, and massive wrought-iron hinges, was the only way in; Claudia's idea—she told them a truck would never get through, let alone demolish it.

Two-inch tiles of blue, dark red, yellow and green painted with Moroccan designs were set on edge, diamond style, between large terracotta slabs laid along the path. The front door was also arched and stained a beautiful rich honey. Set in the top half of the door was the leadlight pane Sofie had rescued out of the dirt and possible destruction when the backhoes were carting away what remained of her old house. The early morning sun shone through the bevelled edges in some of the crystal panes, creating a stunning colourful prism effect along the walls and floor of the new entry. Every time Doreen visited, she'd stop and gaze at the leadlight and smile. The window had obviously made an impression on her as a small child.