Unsuitable (31 page)

He
twisted his head to look at her. She felt sick. But he was a kid and there was
nothing of that in him now—until tonight.

“I
had this body, but I had more experience with baby formula than being a man.” He
looked away again. “It felt good to be the man for once. Good to get away from
the stink of kids. To have no responsibility for anyone but myself. I took mixed
martial arts classes. I learned to how to fight. In the gym, people would bet
on me and I always won. And I liked that, being a sure thing. Polly started an
illegal fight club. That makes it sound worse than it was, bigger. It was just me
taking on any challenger for any bet.” He moved his hands to the steering
wheel. “We should get home.”

“We’re
not finished here.”

He
sighed. “We made a shed load of money. I mean we really cashed up. We didn’t
need jobs. We only needed me to win and I liked to win, and so long as I was
high in some way, I didn’t mind hitting blokes so it all worked out.”

“There’s
not a mark on you.” She was well qualified to know. She’d been over every
surface of him but never picked the blackness inside. How could she have missed
it?

He
held his hands up. “Except these. That was our thing. To see if I could stay
unmarked while I beat other guys till they cracked and bled. I’d be covered in
tatts like Polly otherwise. We wanted the bruising to show up.”

“I
can’t process this.”

“Charlie
disowned me.” He took a shaky breath. “Wouldn’t let me come home, not even to
visit or see the girls, till I cleaned myself up. But the easy money, the life,
the women, it was hard to give up. I thought I was King Shit.”

“Why
did you give it up?” Or was it simply buried, this urge to hurt people. He’d
walked into that fight with something more than calm, more than the knowledge
he could win. He’d wanted her to wait to call the police. He wanted that fight.

“I
hurt someone badly.”

Audrey’s
lungs felt too small for the amount of air she needed. He might’ve said he
killed someone. He could’ve killed someone tonight. The efficient way he’d
checked they were all breathing was as practiced as his use of her oven.

“I
got so good I could tell how to best hurt them, so they went down and stayed
there. These big guys used to come at me and think they could use their bulk,
outmanoeuvre me. And these little guys would think I was stupid or slow. I
learned how to take them down quickly, how to make it so they didn’t want to
get up again. After a while I had to learn to dance around a bit otherwise it
was over too quick, not enough of a show and the punters got annoyed.”

“One
night I didn’t get that sum right and this guy, he kept getting up and getting
up, and I had him on his arse five times and he wouldn’t stay there. I even
tried holding him down with my foot. I hit him too hard, too often.” Reece
slammed his head into the back of the headrest. “He lost an eye.”

Dear
God.

“And
somebody filmed that fight. They loaded it to a website, they made money off
it. Of this film of me fucking pulverising this guy’s face, hitting him over
and over and over. I’ve got this expression. Fuck, Audrey.” He covered his eyes
with a scabbing hand. “I could’ve been mowing the lawn, it was nothing to me,
but there’s blood everywhere and the guy’s eye is exploding out of his head.”

She
swallowed bitter bile and violent awareness. She was crowded against the door
to get as far away from Reece as possible. The pain in his voice was not enough
to overcome her revulsion.

He
dropped his hand to his lap. “And then the whole fucking city wanted to hit me.
The cops got involved. I could’ve been charged for assault and battery, grievous
bodily harm at a minimum. But the guy had bet on me. He bet big. He meant to
lose. He said he knew I tried to stop him getting up, but he was high too and
he had a side bet on marking me. He didn’t want the cops involved. He’d borrowed
the money from a safe at work, not legally. He needed it to go away. I was
lucky. I paid his medical expenses, paid for a prosthetic eye. If I’d been
charged, let alone convicted, I’d never have been able to work with kids.

“I
stopped the drugs. I stopped drinking. That wasn’t who I was. I missed home and
Charlie and the girls. That was it. We quit. Polly went to work for his dad, I
went to uni. I’m not that guy anymore, Audrey. You have to believe me. I still
have his skill. I still have his body, but I am not that man. I haven’t hit
anybody again until tonight.”

“Did
you take something tonight?”

He
looked at her directly for the first time since they’d pulled over. “I’m not
drunk. I’m not high. I don’t have a substance abuse problem. I wasn’t going to
let them near you. They could’ve done anything to you.” He shook his head. “Six
fuckers. I didn’t see another option. Cops would’ve taken too long. Didn’t
trust the bouncers.”

“They’d
have hurt me?” She hadn’t focused on that. She’d seem peripheral to it.

“Maybe.
No knowing. They wanted me because I stopped their fun in the bar. They’d have
hurt me anyway they could.” He shrugged and it hit her, how dangerous that
situation had been for her. He reached for her. “Come here.”

“No.
I don’t want to. I can’t. I don’t. I want to go home.” She wanted to see Mia,
wake her up and hug her. She wanted to shower away the liquor on her legs and
the stench of fear and hate, and the vision of Reece checking pulses.

Her
nanny knew how to check to see if he’d killed someone.

Reece
couldn’t do anything about his appearance. The noise Etta and Flip made when
they saw him woke Mia, who cried when she saw his hands. Audrey hugged Mia till
she got irritated and put her back to bed, sitting with her until her breathing
evened out.

She
let Reece tend her cut leg, while Etta and Flip watched. She couldn’t reconcile
the calculated violence with the man kneeling at her feet with Dettol and a packet
of
Dora the Explorer
bandaids. He’d saved her life again. But he’d
enjoyed doing it. She could see that in him, the pride. It burned like acid
poured on safety and shredded it to ribbons.

She
touched his cheek. “I need time to absorb this. I didn’t think there was anything
important I didn’t know about you.”

He
got to his feet. “Okay, sure. I think.” He stopped and shook his head. They
were both very aware of Etta and Flip.

“What,
Reece?”

“It’s
not up to me to tell you what to think. But you’re in shock. Not the need to be
hospitalised version, but that was a bad scene. I don’t want to leave you alone
tonight.”

“But
that’s what I want.” If she closed her eyes all she saw was Reece’s efficient brutality
and the blood flying. She could still hear the sick crunch of bone breaking. “I
need to be alone with this for a bit. And you need to get the girls home.”

Reece
backed off. Etta’s eyes were too busy taking all this in. Audrey stood up. “You
should see a doctor in the morning.”

“For
what?” He looked genuinely confused. That’s how normal this was for him.

She
gestured at his hands. He’d cleaned them up before he tended to her, but they
looked bad, torn, bruising already starting to show. If she didn’t tell him to
stay away tomorrow he’d be back first thing and she didn’t know if she wanted
that.

“Please,
Reece. Sleep in, see about your hands. I’ll call you later.”

He
accepted it. He stepped forward to kiss her, but she turned her face, moved at
the same time he did, but away, not towards him. She had a headache and she
needed to sleep. In the morning she’d see what direction they’d moved in next.

Together
or separately.

21:     Ripper

“Tell
me again.” Flip hung over the car seat, her face close to his.

“Sit
back and put your belt on, Flipper.”

“I
will, but tell me first. How many guys?”

“More
than one. Sit back.” If she didn’t sit back and belt up, he’d lose it with her.
The night had turned to shit and he was worried about Audrey. “Can we just cool
it?”

“No.”
Flip laughed and poked him on the shoulder. “You beat dudes up. I didn’t know
you could do that.”

“Neither
did Audrey. You never told her,” said Etta.

“Never
told her what?” said Flip.

“Jesus,
can we let this alone.”

“Audrey
sure wasn’t looking at you the same way she did when we first got there. She looked
at you like you were a freaking celebrity when we arrived. Just then she looked
at you like you were Jack the Ripper,” said Etta.

“Who’s
Jack the Ripper?” said Flip.

Etta
faced the back seat. “He was this mass murderer guy who killed all these prostitutes.”

“I
know what a prostitute is and I’m not scared of Jack the Ripper.”

“You’ll
be scared of me if you don’t put your flaming belt on,” he growled.

God,
this night
. He wanted it over with. The first half of it was a
wet dream. He’d thought Audrey was lying about the bows across her butt, but no
bra strap. He’d had to touch her. There really were tiny straps and bows and
most of her arse cheek in his hand. He’d almost suggested they get a room. If
he had they’d have avoided this now. Audrey frightened of him. He should’ve
gotten them out of the bar at the first sign of trouble. He should’ve minded
his own business.

Etta
was right. Audrey was freaked. First he did that stupid thing telling her he
wanted a family. That was not cool. And then he’d had no choice but to go in
hard, he couldn’t risk getting taken out himself, leaving her exposed. He’d
give anything to take back what happened in the laneway. And yeah, he’d kept the
fighting secret, he wasn’t that man anymore, but the look on her face told him
she didn’t believe it. And worse, fuck, she’d seen the part of him that enjoyed
it, got off on the primitive thrill of a test of strength and skill.

He
dropped the girls off and headed to Polly’s. Found the flat empty and grabbed a
shower. Then he surprised Polly and some girl making out in the kitchen. Holly
fuck, the girl was Les. He knew this was on, but he hadn’t seen it in action.

Polly
unhanded her when he walked into the kitchen. “Reece. Dude. Hey, what happened?”

“Hey,
Les.” Les looked well kissed. Polly looked peeved he’d been interrupted mid kiss.
He was slow to unhand Les. Reece wished the bath sheet he was wearing was
bigger. He wished he wasn’t here at all. “We got jumped. Audrey’s okay. A bunch
of guys’ll have sore heads tomorrow.”

Polly
said, “Shit, man.”

Les
said, “Audrey’s really okay?”

“She’s—yeah—she’s
shocked. We were having a good night and then.” He looked at Polly. “Oh fuck. I
didn’t want her to have to see me like that.”

“How
many?” said Polly.

“Six.”

Les’
hands flew up. She tried to tidy her hair to disguise the action. “Oh my God.” She
turned to Polly, horror on her face.

He
took both her hands in his. “It’s fine, Leslie. Our Reece can more than handle himself.”

“Against
six guys?”

“Hell,
yeah.” Polly grinned. Reece knew what he was thinking. Those old days didn’t
have the same sense of revulsion for him. He hadn’t been the one meting out the
violence.

Les
spun back to him. “He organised fights and you fight. And you don’t have a mark
on you.” She was putting this together with whatever Polly had told her about
those days.

He
held his hands up. But his knuckles looked better now, red, split, bruised, swollen,
not normal, but nothing broken. Tomorrow he’d have bruising around his ribs and
kidneys.

Les
pulled her hands away from Polly. “I do not see how that’s funny. What did the police
say?”

Reece
flexed his hand, testing his grip. How did he explain this to Audrey so she
wasn’t threatened? Best thing to do was sleep first. “My guess is the guys were
dealing. They had a shit load of cash on them. Cops are going to be more
interested in that. Anyway, don’t let me interrupt.” He opened the fridge and
poured himself a glass of milk.

Polly
cocked his head. He had a hand on Les’ shoulder. “You staying here tonight,
mate?”

“Yeah,
if that’s okay? I’m done in. I’ll get out of your way.”

He
took the glass of milk and left them to it, lay in bed and couldn’t sleep. He
kept going over the night from the moment in the bar where he’d wanted to save
Audrey from being jostled, to the moment he accepted that thank you beer. He
could’ve pulled her out of the way instead of going amongst it. They should’ve
left immediately. That complimentary beer had rubbed their noses in it. The
fact security had left him alone as well. But once he’d made that mistake, once
they’d come at him, what choice did he have?

He
was still awake half an hour later when he heard the front door open and close.
Polly pushed the bedroom door open and leant against the jamb. “Shit happens,
‘eh.”

Reece
pushed upright and braced against the wall. There was pain across his abs now. “Did
Les go?”

“You
frightened the horses. All she wanted to talk about was you taking on six
guys.”

“Sorry,
mate. I ruined everyone’s night.” He plucked at the sheet. Polly didn’t make a
move to go. “So, you and Les, you’re really in to her?”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

“What?”
Polly’s voice went low.

“She’s
not your usual type.”

“No.”
He got strident, “she’s fucking amazing.”

“Really?”

“Stop
saying that pansy word.”

“She’s
a great girl. She’s just—”

“What,
go on say it?”

“Just—”
Enough drama for one night. Reece let it go. He’d expected Polly to dodge.

“Smarter
than I am? She sure is. More intelligent, and a pack more fun than anyone I’ve
dated for a long while.”

They
looked at each other, both of them silhouettes in the dark.

“You’re
not going to screw her over then, because she’s Audrey’s friend and—”

“I’m
going to try not to screw her over. I prefer her under me when I do the
screwing, but you know, I don’t have a good track record at not screwing up
with chicks, so I’m not making anyone any promises.”

Polly
was being genuine. “I like it.”

“Doesn’t
sound like you do.”

“It’s
unexpected. I was worried.”

“Yeah,
that it was some kind of joke. Because she’s not my usual pole dancer.” Reece
let that go too and Polly went on. “I didn’t come in here to talk about me.” He
pointed in the direction of the bed. “What’s with you and the goon squad?”

“I’d
only had a two beers. They were on something. Wouldn’t stay the fuck down.”

“You
hurting?”

Reece
grinned. Polly had come in to do what he’d always done after a fight—to check
on him. “I’m a little sore. It’ll be worse tomorrow. Nothing broken.”

“Hands?”

“Fine.”

“Head?”

This
time, this question was different. It was about his mental state, not whether
he might have concussion. “She looked at me like she didn’t know me, Pol.”

“Should’ve
taken a fall.”

Reece
nodded. He’d made it look too easy. It was easy when you had the training, the
experience he’d had, when you were sober and your opponents were half out of
their tiny minds. When you were doing it to protect the woman you loved. If
he’d taken a fall she might not have seen him as so much of a machine. She’d
looked at him as if she didn’t know him, as if he’d beaten her affection for
him to a pulp and juiced it all over scorched earth.

“I
don’t want to be a dickhead all my life you know. I really like Les. Exactly as
she is. But I don’t know what I’m doing in this deep, with someone so
different, so if you don’t work it out with Audrey you know I’ve got zip chance
of keeping Les.”

Reece
pulled his knees up, curled his back to relieve an ache there. “I thought I
knew what I was doing.” But he wouldn’t be alone in Polly’s spare bed if that
was the case. He’d have Audrey in his arms, and the stiffness in his lower back
would feel like nothing.

“Shit,
man. Get sleep. It’ll look different in the morning.”

From
his unanswered texts to Audrey, he figured it would look worse.

When
he woke, hands stiff and sore, bruising over his torso and back, muscle strain
in one thigh and across his lumbar, Audrey had responded. She was fine. Mia
said Snapper missed him. That made him smile. He should take the day off to
rest.

All
perfectly reasonable. But it made him ansty. He called. Got voicemail and
stuttered a message about nothing sensible. He wanted Audrey’s real voice, real
responses. He was tempted to simply lob over there. He hung up and rang again. Mailbox
again. If he lobbed, he was making a thing out of it. She was well again, in
theory his weekends were his own now. In theory, he didn’t need to use her
guest room, but they’d avoided dealing with that.

Fuck
theory. He was going over there. He’d spooked her. He’d put it right.

He
drove home to Charlie’s. In the mood he was in he could make things worse with
Audrey. Neeva met him on the verandah, on her way out in a netball uniform. “Muuum,
Reeeece,” she yelled back down the hall.

“Hey.”

They
high-fived and she grabbed for his hand and poked his knuckles. “So you beat up
dudes.”

He
rescued his hand with a grunt. “What did Flip tell you?”

“Not
Flipper, Ett.” She leapt into a ninja pose, weaving a hand in front of his
face. “She said you did some karate thing—hi-yah,” she kicked, “and took down
sixty Chinese bad guys with nunchucks who tried to kidnap your boss, who you’re
dating—um-ah.”

He
looked at the verandah roof and breathed deep and it hurt. “Yeah, that sounds
about right.”

She
slapped his stomach and he grunted. “What the hell, Reece baby. When did you
get all Mortal Combat, Super Mario, Terminator?”

“Leave
him alone, Neeva.” Charlie at the door. “Hello, stranger.” She stepped across the
deck and he bent to kiss her hello.

Neev
yelled into the house, “Gin, come on. Come see Reece’s gaping bloody wounds.”

“I’m
not wounded.”

“Did
they really have nunchucks?”

“Neeva,
do you believe everything Etta tells you?” said Charlie.

Gin
appeared in the same netball uniform. “Oh wow, look at your hands. Does that
hurt?”

“No,
I poked him, he didn’t do anything,” said Neev.

Gin
yelled down the hall. “Flip, hurry up, we’ll be late.” Then she came at him,
wrapped her arms around him and squeezed with her skinny arms. “I worry about
you.”

Charlie
smoothed Gin’s ponytail. Reece patted Gin’s back. “I’m all right. No need to
worry.” He released her and Flip appeared in her netball uniform carrying the
team ball and a bag of quartered oranges.

She
offered her hand for a high five then dodged it. “See ya, Flop.”

“See
ya,” he paused, “Pippa.”

She
scowled at him. “Ooo.”

He
shrugged and the three of them went down the stairs and out the gate. Etta
would be at work, her Saturday Macca’s shift, so he had Charlie to himself.

She
turned to go inside. “I’ll put the kettle on.” He followed her. “I told them
you learned how to box, but that’s all I said. The rest is up to you, but
you’ve obviously told Etta something before last night.”

He
nodded. “Told her I was an idiot. She remembers me being away, remembers you
being mad at me. Told her not to be an idiot.”

“She’s
smoking.” Charlie filled the kettle.

He
groaned. “Told me she’d give it up.”

Charlie
put the kettle on the stove and turned the gas on. “She knows it’s not good for
her. Knows I’m unhappy, but it’s no good me saying anything. She has to choose.
Gin’s barely talking to her.” She opened a loaf of raisin bread. He’d get toast
with tea out of this. “Should I be mad at you about last night, Reece?”

“No.
They came at us. I had no choice.” She studied him and he didn’t feel wilted. Once
they were in the laneway he’d had no option but to win.

“All
right then. Tell me about Audrey.”

“I
love her, Mum.” Shit, his voice crackled. He’d never said anything remotely
like that to Charlie before.

“Oh,
Reece.” She leant on the breakfast counter opposite him and lightly touched the
backs of his hands, above the crusty scabs. “How much older is she?”