Fucking hell! “Shit!”

Ryder fell about laughing his arse off at me making a giant dick of myself, I didn’t do it often. Nope, not me. Cool as a cucumber was I.

“What the hell’s got into you, bro?”

He tried to rein in his snickering, failing miserably. I grumbled out a ‘nothing’ to him as I continued to stare at the end of the aisle where a very, very sexy Laura had disappeared. I rubbed my hand down my face and hung my head, sighing.

“Hey, man.” Ryder clapped me on the shoulder. “Wasn’t that bad. I think she likes you.” He turned toward the shelf of brass rings and drawer knobs. “You got to take off that fucking ring, dude. It don’t mean shit and you know it.”

The piece of metal on my finger was a fucking disaster, I swore under my breath. No wonder she took off, what a goddamned idiot. Her hasty retreat made sense.

“Yeah,” Ryder said.

I stuck my hands in my pockets not wanting the reminder of my fucked-up reality and the woman who’d stole the best years of my life. Anger bubbled up quickly. “I don’t need another steak knife jammed in my hand, Ryder.” I snarled.

He knew every single scar on my body Stella had put there. It wasn’t pretty when the clothes came off, trust me.

“I hear you brother, I do,” he said in understanding. “Where are the two holing up?”

Stella and Alexa had been remarkably scarce since turning up a few days ago. I’d seen Stella twice in passing since Friday night and no words had been spoken between us. Not even a hello.

“No idea, I prefer it that way. Don’t you?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sure.” His words were cautious. “I don’t want to find out too late if they’re up to something dodgy is all.”

He was right. The gloves were off, what with the divorce imminent, Lord only knew what Stella had in mind. There would be revenge for what I’d set in motion - that was a given.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. I can’t be arsed with looking at this shit today. I wanna go see my girl.”

I followed him through the store, needing a beer and some down time. Ayden was arriving soon, and I wanted to be organised.

His transfer down to Brighton, to finish out his university was soon, and he was bringing Jake with him. Over Christmas he’d insisted the course was the same and it wouldn’t harm his future by transferring. He didn’t need to come, the fact he wanted to, had me beaming. We were close and shared a first-rate father/son bond, having him nearby would be a relief. Transferring mid-term was tricky but we could pull it off. A student apartment had come up and he was excited for the change, loved the area, loved his new campus too. Brighton was only an hour’s drive from Beaufort on a slow day, so plenty opportunity to go back and forth as often as he and Jake liked. It also meant he wasn’t stuck relying on his piss poor mother, who was as good as useless when it came to being a parent.

However, he had no idea the history Brighton had for our family - his grandfather’s history. I had no confidence I could keep it from him either.

“So, Dad.” My heart knocked when I heard his voice, like it always did when I hadn’t seen him for a while. “How’s life treating you?”

“Your mum’s here,” I said.

“Ah ha, no chasing any skirt then,” he sniggered. “You know that, right?”

I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “As if, Ayden.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not dead, dad. Give it up!” Did I mention I loved this kid more than life itself? He was a cheeky so-and-so at times and I hoped he never lost his enthusiasm for life.

“Ryder’s dating.”

Ayden fell quiet. He knew all about Ryder’s appetites, and although hadn’t seen them first hand, he still had a clue what his uncle got up to with women.

“Okay. That’s great, right?”

“Yeah son, it is. Very good. I think he’s fallen for her in a big way.”

“Well, there’s time for you yet, old man.”

All Ayden wanted was for me to be content. Watching his mum and I rip each other to shreds hadn’t been easy. He’d never been blind to the situation, no matter how hard I’d tried to keep him away from the fights and arguments, it had been impossible at times, his mother not caring who was privy to the way our marriage worked. I sighed, hoping we hadn’t scarred him too much.

“No hot studs on your radar?” I asked.

My boy full on belly laughed, his voice low, sounding like the young man he was. “No dad, nothing biting.”

I loved he felt comfortable enough to discuss his sexuality with me and I mentally patted myself on the back for having at least done one thing right with him. Being gay was tough enough without adding parental disapproval, I wasn’t going to do that to him. If he was happy and safe it was all that mattered. Who cared whether it was with a man or woman? Love was love.

“Right, I need to get off. People to chase, you know?”

“But no skirts?”

“Plenty skirts, Ayden. I’m still technically married you know.”

“Listen to yourself. Like she remembered.”

When did my son get so smart?

“I’ll drive up with a van, okay. It’s a long haul. Make sure you and Jake have your shit together and ready to go when I get there, yeah? All right?”

“Yeah, dad. We’re gonna stay at the house a few days though.”

“That’d be fantastic, kid. Ryder’s missing you too.” I told him, knowing that he missed his uncle right back.

We said our goodbyes and hung up, it wouldn’t be too long before we’d be seeing one another. Maybe he felt ‘home’ calling him too?

No sooner had I hung up with Ayden, my phone was ringing again. Ryder must have forgotten something. He’d gone over to Brighton with Taylor to pick up the mouldings we couldn’t get in Beaufort, collect some flooring samples and scope out the Loft I’d mentioned to him a few weeks back.

“Hey bro, what you missing?” I didn’t wait for his hello, that etiquette went out when we were about fifteen.

“Taylor’s freaking out.” His voice was tight with worry. “She can’t get hold of Laura.”

Her name had my undivided attention. “Okay.” I hesitated. “What’s the problem?” Ryder had a habit of telling half a story, I hoped this wasn’t one of those times.

“Not sure, man. She needs someone to go find her.” The phone muffled, and I heard him mumbling to someone before he came back. “Laura called Taylor three times in a row, didn’t leave a voicemail. And now, Taylor can’t get hold of her. She’s worried she’s freaked out over some shit.”

“I can go look. I got nothing that won’t keep until later,” I offered.

“Listen, I don’t know what these women have been doing or where they’ve been for eight years, Lucca. Taylor doesn’t talk about it and I’m pretty sure whatever happened was Laura’s thing. If my woman’s freaking out? She has cause to, that’s all I know.” His words made sense. He knew her better than me.

“Shit, okay. Text me her address.”

Stuffing my keys into my pocket, I shuffled paperwork into the desk drawer, sensing Ryder wasn’t finished, that he had more to say, and was taking his sweet arsed time as per the usual.

“Spit it out, Ryder,” I said in a hurry.

He coughed, like he was uncomfortable. “Take your gun.”

I almost choked at his demand. “Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t take a gun in my car, Ryder. I’m asking to get arrested. What the hell?”

“Please,” his frustration was clear, “I don’t know what skeletons they have in their closet, I’ll be getting to that real soon, trust me. Taylor’s scared. I’d feel a lot better if you had it with you.”

The mention of the gun had me far more worried than before. I knew he cared a hell of a lot for Taylor, and by extension, Laura, but to take a weapon out onto the street? This was some serious shit and I didn’t like it one bit.

“Please?” he asked again.

I threw my head back in exasperation and cursed under my breath. “Okay. I’ll let you know. If I get my arse hauled in on a weapons charge, I’m so gonna fucking kick your head in, Ryder!”

He clicked off, no goodbye.

Whatever.

Unlocking the bottom desk drawer, I rifled under the papers to find the box with my gun in it. Checking it was loaded and the safety was on, I tucked the gun into my coat pocket as I moved out of the room, ignoring the weight of it. The thought of walking around with a gun made me sick, I’d not used mine in years; the consequences of shooting the gun far outweighed my need to feel safe. Laura was a stranger, was she worth getting arrested for?

I didn’t get far. I pulled up the text for Laura’s home address Ryder had sent as I was passing the school gates at the end of Main Street. A movement from the side caught my attention.

Mesmerised by the lonesome figure swinging back and forth on the too small swing inside the playpark, I slowed the car to a stop. Even from a distance I could see Laura was distraught.

Parking up, I sat for a moment to watch her. She was a million miles away, lost in her own head, tensing up now and again. It appeared she was crying, I couldn’t be positive, and I simply wasn’t okay with that. I exhaled a breath and climbed from the car, heading toward the park, thinking about how to play the scene out. I didn’t want her to know I’d been searching for her, didn’t want to freak her out if she was already feeling that way. I’d shoved the gun in my glovebox before making a move, thinking she wouldn’t appreciate that either.

I leaned against the multi-coloured fence that surrounded the park and shouted a friendly greeting. She spun around to face me. Yeah, she’d been crying, I could tell, even from this distance. My heart simpered for this woman I’d only just met. I was protective of her for some insane reason. I wanted to dry those tears, take her hurts, keep her safe; to chase all her worries away. What was it about Laura that brought out these instincts in me? She exuded an unhappiness I could identify with, yet Ryder said she had been the life of the party. Contradictions aplenty.

“Can I join you?” I asked, moving into the park before she could shoot me down.

Grabbing the iron links of the swing, I moved to sit in the one right next to her. She eyed me sceptically as I manoeuvred my body into the rubber seat. Or rather squeezed. Big fella and little swing didn’t exactly mesh well.

“What?” I grinned at her. “I can fit!”

She snorted; a half laugh, half choke.

Laura rolled her head away from me and continued to swing. I did the same, now that my butt was wedged firmly on the rubber, I’d most likely be stuck in the kiddie seat. Fuck my life.

Scanning the park, noting it was just the two of us, I twigged why she’d come here – the school was behind us, as safe a place as any. Perfect spot for someone feeling vulnerable. I took a gamble and asked what was really on my mind.

“What’s your story, Laura?”

I didn’t expect an answer. I didn’t know this woman, she didn’t know me. I’d have liked to have changed that, not this way, not with her looking so downtrodden and me wanting to fix all her ails.

She shrugged. “How long you got, Lucca?”

“That bad, huh?”

She shrugged again, pulling her coat around her ears. I looked up at the darkening sky realising how late in the day it was. Laura pushed harder on the swing, going higher, legs out in front of her. She was a tough cookie to crack, I could see that about her. It didn’t faze me in the slightest because I thought it might be worth it, if at least I offered to be a friend, or even a shoulder for her to lean on.

“Where have you been all these years?”

I didn’t look at her when I asked. My straightforward nosiness must have been appreciated because she answered me. With one word, Laura slayed me open and confirmed what I’d thought since the night at The V.

“Running.” Her voice was emotionless, which I found disconcerting.

“Yeah?” I stopped swinging and took her in, willed her to look my way. “I’ve got a clue who you are, Laura.”

Another fucking shrug, like she didn’t give a shit anymore. What could possibly break this vibrant woman so woefully? I wanted her to care, wanted to see some sparkle in her eyes. It would be a beautiful sight to watch her bloom and thrive with life.

She finally regarded me, holding me captive for the longest of moments. A tear slowly tracked down her cheek and she sniffed. I squeezed myself from the goddamned kiddie swing and moved to stand in front of her. I had not a care she didn’t know me, had no reason to trust me but I was compelled to comfort her, wipe her tears away. Promise her that life would get better. She had to believe it would.

Laura stopped swinging, my body in front giving her no choice. She stared up at me with the most sorrowful eyes I’d ever had the misfortune of looking into. My chest tightened, and I sucked in a breath at how tragic she appeared. Moving closer I pushed between her parted legs, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and drawing her into me. Her head thumped against my chest and we stayed that way a while. My fingers played absently with the locks of her hair as she clutched at my jacket. Light, flurry snowflakes began to tumble around us as she trembled in my arms. Before long Laura was full on sobbing and wrapping her arms around my waist, sneaking up under my coat, seeking warmth. Seeking comfort I desperately wanted to give her.

What had life done to this woman?

Leaning down I took the liberty of kissing the top of her head, her hair tickling the tip of my nose. “Let me take you home, Laura?”

It was a question I had no intention of letting her say no to. She was going nowhere without me. I stepped away from her a fraction before tugging her with me. Laura had no protest when I reached down and twined my fingers through hers and led her out of the park towards my car.

Opening the passenger door, I tapped at her hip, motioning for her to get in. She climbed up and buckled her seatbelt as I clicked the door shut. I stalked around the front of the car, pulling my phone out to text Ryder I’d found Laura and was taking her home, then I clambered into the driver’s seat. Laura was slumped against the window, thoroughly deflated.

“You okay?” I asked, resting my hands on the top of the steering wheel. A slight turning movement of her head my only clue she’d heard me.

“You’re married?”

My shoulders slumped, and I eyed the distasteful wedding band that no longer belonged where it was. “Not for much longer.” I felt angry, not at Laura. Just angry this woman, who was clearly in distress, was wondering about my circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” she said before twisting her head back against the window, staring at the swing park. “Please, take me home, Lucca.”

I started up the car, the weight of gold on my hand making me sick to my stomach. Ryder was right, it should have been gone long before, there was no reason to keep it on. I ripped the goddamned thing off my finger and threw it on the dashboard before popping the car into gear and making my way to Laura’s.

Good fucking riddance.

Pulling up behind Laura’s Scirocco, I cut the engine. She hadn’t said a word the whole six minutes it took to get to her house, didn’t ask how I knew where she lived. The atmosphere in the car felt awkward and stifling. I got out and shuffled around to open her door, when she jumped out and grabbed my hand, I hadn’t expected the move. I gripped her palm tight in my own.

“Can we go in the back?”

Laura pulled me through the gate around the side of the house, into her backyard. Well, it was hardly a yard. More like a sprawling lawn that had a view so picturesque, it stopped me in my tracks. Stunning. Her garden backed onto a rocky shoreline, and for as far as the eye could see – there was water. Even in mid-winter, the scene was breath taking. I loved it, the tranquillity awe-inspiring. I was utterly jealous.

I squeezed her hand. “That’s some view right there, Laura.”

She gave a shy smile. “I know.”

Letting go of my hand to find her keys, she opened the back-porch door that led into a boot room. Laura kicked off her shoes and I followed suit doing the same, leaving them on the sea grass mat next to hers. Silly thing really; I liked the way they looked together. Innocuous – but together. She took my coat and hung it next to hers on the rack above.

Domestic? Very...comforting? Absolutely.

“Come through.” She invited, her persona a touch calmer. She walked down the back hallway then stopped abruptly, rotating to face me. “Oh, you are staying, aren’t you?”

“You making coffee?” I rubbed my hands together to warm them up even though the house was toasty warm. “Cos, if you are, I’m staying,” I grinned at her.

“Okay, I’m making coffee. You warm enough?” She eyed me rubbing my hands.

“Just the fingers, you know?”

I followed her into a homey kitchen, sitting down at the table she had butted up against the wall, while she pottered around getting mugs and pulled out milk from the fridge. I had time to take in the room. Laura’s house gave plenty away, I could see the quirky touches of her personality she had around. Glimpses of who she was and what she liked. The kitchen had a country feel to it, not clinical like my kitchens had always been. Warm and inviting colours mixed everywhere, nick knacks lined shelves and I noticed she had a penchant for pigs. I smiled to myself, liking what I saw already.

“You wanna go through to the living room?” She handed me a mug of hot, divine smelling cocoa.

“You made chocolate?”

She nodded and moved from the room. I got up and wandered in the general direction Laura had, in no hurry to move along. Not being a fan of small spaces, I was surprised how much Laura’s house called out to me. I loved it, wanted to explore all its nooks and crannies. Having seen only a fraction of its character, the warm, stripped wooden floors and irregular ceilings appealed to me.

Laura was sitting on a large sofa when I entered the lounge, her feet tucked underneath her, hands wrapped around her mug. There was a smaller sofa opposite, ignoring it I sat at the end of the one Laura was on, making myself comfortable.

Taking in the homey feel of the room I liked that the cream walls gave the illusion of it being bigger than it was, yet the thick brocade curtains kept the room cosy. Big picture windows fronted out onto the street, casting a lot of light. Crystal ornaments dangled from the top window sash and I imagined when the sunlight hit them, they would create stunning patterns and rainbows on the walls. The Victorian fireplace caught my eye, I had to admire the tiled beauty, a roaring fire on the coldest of nights would be perfect in here.

“You feel better?” I asked, sinking back into the sofa.

“A little.”

“You want to talk about it?” Such a cliched thing to ask someone who was upset. I shook my head. “Never mind, forget I asked.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start, Lucca,” she admitted, “plus, you’re a stranger.” She laughed but it held no humour.  

“Possibly true,” I agreed. “Doesn’t mean I can’t listen if you need to vent. I keep my word that I won’t repeat to anyone.”

I wanted her to trust me. I mean, I was a trustworthy guy, I didn’t let people in either, so I got where she was coming from. I understood her reluctance to open up. I was much the same closed book as Laura.

“You’re Italian?”

“I am, my parents were from there. My mother never spoke English, but somehow, I’ve lost the language. My father refused to entertain his mother tongue when he came to England.”

“It’s a beautiful language.”

That it was. I’d embraced my heritage through my mother, learning mostly the basics, my father not caring for his roots. I hadn’t uttered many Italian words since my mother had died, hadn’t even visited Italy until Ryder and I took a weekend holiday in Rome when we were seventeen.

“I don’t use it much now. Sometimes words slip out without me realising.” I admitted.

“Still...beautiful.” Her voice was quiet, wistful.

“La mia bella donna, perché così triste?”

Tears slipped down Laura’s cheeks and I suddenly felt like a prized prick. I set my mug on the wooden table then scooted closer to her, picking up her hand and stroking my thumb across her palm.

“If you need someone, Laura, I can be that for you. Whatever you need. Let me help?”

She didn’t move to pull her hand from mine, her tears didn’t stop. Big and silent drops fell down her face. We sat quiet for a while, maybe she needed some time to gather her thoughts, contemplate if she was going to off-load on me or not. When she finally spoke, her words were not what I expected at all.

“Why are you getting divorced? Oh, wait, you are getting divorced?”

I cleared my throat. Talking about Stella was uncomfortable at the best of times, but I knew what Laura was doing. Tit for tat. I’d asked her to trust me and given her nothing to go on, she was indirectly doing the same. How much could I tell her? Because honestly, I was fucking embarrassed. She would think I was a bloody idiot. And when it came to Stella? I had been the biggest idiot alive.

I copped out. “It’s run its course, we’ve been done a while now.” I looked away from her. There was no lie per se, only a fraction of the truth.

“You don’t love her anymore?”

“No.”

“And her?”

“I don’t think she ever did.” I said.

“Oh.” It sounded ridiculous even to my ears. “I loved someone once, too.”

“Did he love you back?”

“No,” she sobbed, “he destroyed me.”