Deceive (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #2) (24 page)

“Well, I have some plans. Then I guess it’s a matter of working out our timing. She’s moving to Sydney.” I was beaming inside, excited about my plans for Alyssa at the Suncrest Hotel and her move to Sydney. We hadn’t discussed what would happen after the move, but I knew that moment would be pivotal to our relationship.

“Have you spoken to her family?”

“God, no,” I exclaimed. “I’ll be happy if Alyssa and I can move to Sydney without me having to see them again.”

“You know that’s no way to start a relationship.”

I laughed. “I know, Doc, it’s just . . . well, to be honest, her brother scares the shit out of me.”

“That’s understandable, considering your past.”

“But he has nothing on Curtis.” Killer Curtis would have my balls on a silver platter if he had half a chance. He was shorter, thinner, and had less brute strength than Josh, but he also knew ways to dispose of a body without getting caught.

“Is Alyssa close to her family?”

“Fuck, yeah. She always has been. They’re a fucking tight-knit group.” A group I was once part of many years ago. There was a time I had been Ruth and Curtis’s quasi-son. That had changed when I’d left. If I’d had any doubt over whether they did indeed hate me, the meeting with Ruby in the city had made it abundantly clear. “But it’ll be all right, Doc. Once they see how happy we are, they’ll leave us alone.”

“Declan?” Dr. Henrikson asked, ignoring my statement.

“Yeah, Doc?” I replied, wondering why he had changed tack.

“It’s good to hear you this way.”

“What way is that?” I was confused.

“Almost optimistic.”

I laughed. “You’re not the first one to call me that this weekend.”

“I have to admit I am a little concerned though. Please . . . take this slowly.” I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

“Who’s the pessimist now?” I asked.

“I just don’t want to see you falling into any of your”—he paused—“old patterns.”

“You mean running?”

“Amongst other things, yes.”

“I’m never running from her again.”

“I believe that you feel that’s the case.” He was obviously trying to placate me. “But I would like you and Alyssa to come in for couples’ therapy when you can.”

I laughed at the concept. Sure, I had issues which impacted on Alyssa, but Alyssa and I, we didn’t have issues. “You’re just trying to sting me for more money.”

He laughed in reply, but it was hesitant and forced.

I sighed. “What makes you suggest that?”

“It is a little,” his voice was slow, careful, considered, “concerning how insular your relationship with Alyssa seems to be. And how fast things are moving. You describe a world where everything is perfect, but only so long as there is no one else around. That is not a realistic scenario in the long-term. There will always be other factors impacting on the two of you. I would just like to see you both equipped with the right tools for having a relationship that will survive the real world.”

I grew irritated. I had just told him about the fuck-awesome weekend I had with Alyssa and Phoebe, and his first suggestion was that we needed help?

“Fuck you,” I said. “You don’t know a fucking thing.”

“Declan,” he replied, with a calm voice. “I’m going to leave this here. But please, think about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t fucking bother,” I murmured, but he’d already hung up the phone. I threw the phone onto my bed. “Fucking quack!” I screamed at no one in particular.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: QUALITY TIME

GRABBING AN OUTFIT to change into, I stormed into the shower. I slammed the door shut behind me. The doc’s words had planted seeds of doubt in my mind and I was anxious to see Alyssa again. Once I’d finished, I dried myself off and dressed in a rush, before grabbing my bag and writing Mum a quick note to let her know where I was going.

By the time I arrived at Alyssa’s again, the small seeds had grown into weeds that tangled themselves around my memories of the weekend. I began to consider that maybe I was misreading the situation between Alyssa and me. Maybe things weren’t as resolved as I wanted to think. With my heart in my throat, I knocked on Alyssa’s door, unsure how she felt about the way I’d left earlier or whether my absence had given her time to reconsider everything that had happened.

The door pulled open and Alyssa mouthed, “Hi,” to me and smiled. She had a phone handset squeezed between her shoulder and ear as she stepped backwards from the door to allow me entry.

“Daddy!” Phoebe squealed from in front of the TV before leaping up to give me a hug.

The sound of the word made my stomach clench and my heart pound. A nervous excitement raced through my veins as she wrapped her tiny arms around my legs.

“Nothing important,” Alyssa said into the phone, turning her back to me and heading down the hall toward her bedroom. She continued her conversation the whole way. By the time she reached the end of the hall, I could barely make out the words but I heard “Can’t someone else?” and “You are absolutely certain?”

I sat on the couch and Phoebe climbed up beside me.

“You were gone when I woke up,” she accused.

“Sorry,” I said to her. “I needed to go get some more clothes and have a shower.”

Her eyebrows creased together and she was silent for a minute.

“We have a shower here,” she said eventually, the confusion in her tiny voice clear.

“I know,” I replied. “But I’ll have to go away sometimes. But never for long, and I’ll always come back, okay?”

She considered it for another minute then nodded and turned back to the TV, laughing loudly at Tom and Jerry. I didn’t know that shit was still on TV; I remembered it from when I was young.

Watching her as she watched the TV, I was soon laughing along with her. She would turn to me whenever something happened that she found particularly funny and tell me what she’d seen, as if I wasn’t sitting right next to her. I could have found that irritating—and if it had been anyone else, I probably would have. For some reason, I found it endearing coming from the little angel perched next to me. Every now and then, I would hear a snippet of conversation float down from Alyssa, but I still couldn’t hear many words.

“Declan?” Alyssa called, before appearing behind me. She was dressed in her work uniform and I frowned at the sight. She hadn’t said anything about needing to work. “I’ve been called in to work. It’s an emergency, and they’ve got no one else who can take the shift.”

“Okay.” I tried not to let my disappointment show in my voice. I’d been hoping to have some fun and extend the weekend.

“I, well, I don’t have anyone else to watch Phoebe. Would you mind? It’ll only be for a few hours at the most. I’ll be at work until at least six, but Mum can drop in and pick Phoebe up earlier.”

I heard what she wasn’t saying as loudly as what she had. She didn’t trust me to watch Phoebe. She’d checked every other resource and had no other options. I was the last fucking person she’d asked to babysit my own fucking daughter.

Dr. Henrikson’s words began creeping through my mind again. I wanted to scream and shout that we would be all right. That we didn’t need help. But I saw in that instant that I would be wrong. Terribly wrong. As much trust as I had gained from Alyssa over the weekend, I still had to work my arse off to earn the rest. There was only one way to do that.

“Lys.” I stood and wrapped my arms around her. “I can handle it. It’ll be great. What better way for us to get to really know each other?”

It was hard to sound reassuring. Even in my own ears my voice was weak and pitiful, and full of fear. I drove heavy, high-powered vehicles around a racetrack at high speeds for a living without batting an eyelid, and yet the idea of spending the day alone with my own three-year-old daughter frightened the living shit out of me.

I could do it though.

I
would
do it. If only to prove to everyone that I was committed to Alyssa and to Phoebe.

“You want me to get Mum to come over when she’s free? She can take Phoebe back to her house and give you a break.”

I shook my head. The idea of speaking to Alyssa’s family any time soon frightened me much more than spending a day with Phoebe.

“We’ll be fine. I can handle it,” I repeated, as much to reassure myself as Alyssa.

Alyssa raced around getting ready, calling out instructions for Phoebe’s routine as she went. Before long, she’d told me when to feed her, when to put her to sleep—apparently she needed to sleep at midday but couldn’t sleep for any more than an hour or she wouldn’t go to sleep later in the night. I was fucking exhausted just from Alyssa’s explanations of what I needed to do—and I hadn’t even started yet. My apprehension grew with every passing second. There wasn’t an opportunity for me to change my mind though, because with one last kiss and a whispered warning to Phoebe to be on her best behaviour, Alyssa was gone.

I stood staring at Phoebe, and she stood staring at me. I smiled a tight smile at her. “What would you like to do?”

“I want to go to Nana’s.”

“No, baby, we promised Mummy we’d stay here,” I said in my gentlest voice.

“But this house is boring!” She stamped her foot and crossed her arms.

Shit
. Alyssa hadn’t explained any of this to me. I knew the whens of her routine, but had no idea what to do if she didn’t want to do something.

“Why don’t you watch a movie?” I suggested.

She nodded before turning and running into her room. She came out a few seconds later with a Wiggles DVD. We sat and watched it.

And then we watched it again.

And again.

By the fourth run-through I was going utterly crazy. I even knew the words to some of the goddamned songs. When Phoebe tried to get me to get up and dance with her, I drew the line. Like she had with
Tom and Jerry
, every time something came on that she liked she turned to me and told me all about it. Even on the fourth run-through.

Needing a break from the endless cheer on the TV, I looked at the time. Time for lunch, and then a sleep, according to Alyssa’s schedule. I checked the fridge, where Alyssa said she’d left some tuna sandwiches. I pulled them out and arranged them on a plate for Phoebe. I put them on a little table that was obviously designed for Phoebe to eat at. Then I headed back into the kitchen to fix something for myself.

“I don’t want stinky fish.” I turned to look at Phoebe when I heard her voice. She had her arms crossed again and a frown on her face.

“That’s all I’ve got,” I replied.

“I don’t want it,” she said more loudly, shoving the plate away from her.

Fuck!
I wondered if Alyssa would be upset if I called her at work to find out what to do.

I couldn’t do it. Whether or not it was intentional, the day was a test. Alyssa might decide I wasn’t worth keeping around if I couldn’t even look after Phoebe for one day. If I failed now, I might lose them both.

“Please, baby?” I turned on my charm. It worked on retail workers and hotel managers but I wasn’t sure if it would work on her too.

She shook her head.

“What do you want to eat then?”

“A lollipop.”

“You can’t have a lollipop for lunch.” I laughed at the absurdity of the request.

“I want a lollipop.”

“After you eat something else?” I countered.

She shook her head.

I fixed her with a stern look, trying to let her know I wouldn’t back down.

With a little frown scrunching the skin between her eyebrows she stared back at me, equally unwavering. Then she put her hands on her hips and pouted. Just when I was about to relent, she spoke again. “I want a vegemite sandwich.”

“Now
that
I can help you with,” I said with a smile. “I just happen to make a mean vegemite sandwich.”

I whipped around the kitchen for a few minutes making the vegemite sandwich for her. I cut it into four squares and placed it in front of her. She took one look at the plate and pushed it away.

“I don’t want it.”

“That’s what you asked for,” I said, exasperated.

She shook her head. “I want it in triangles.”

What the fuck difference does that make? It’s a fucking vegemite sandwich for fucks sake. Vegemite is vegemite, regardless of how it’s cut.
I bit back the words and swallowed down the frustration rising in my throat.

“Just eat that,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my tone.

“No.” She turned her head away.

“Eat it.”

“I want triangles.”

With a sigh, I grabbed the plate and turned back toward the kitchen. I spent the next few minutes remaking the vegemite sandwich. This time I cut it into fucking triangles. I placed it down in front of Phoebe. She took one bite.

“Yuck,” she said, pushing the plate away.

Wondering whether I’d done something wrong, I grabbed one of the quarters and took a bite. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s a vegemite sandwich cut into triangles.”

“I don’t like vegemite.”

With a great effort, I resisted the urge to growl at her. I tried to remind myself that she was just a child.

“Then what do you want to eat?” I asked.

“Ice cream.”

I sighed. “You can’t have ice cream . . .” I started, but then decided it wasn’t worth the argument. After all, I didn’t have to tell Alyssa that I’d fed Phoebe ice cream for lunch. “You know what—fine. Have ice cream.”

I dished up the strawberry ice cream from the Neapolitan tub in Alyssa’s freezer. Phoebe ate it all quickly and smiled at me. That smile alone was worth a thousand uneaten vegemite sandwiches. We watched the Wiggles . . . again . . . before I told her it was time for a sleep.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

I sighed. “Mummy said you have to sleep.”

“I. Don’t. Want. To,” she said forcefully.

“Please?”

“No!”

“Please, baby?” I pulled out the charm again. “For Daddy?”

She shook her head violently and recrossed her arms.

“Mummy said you needed to sleep though.” Alyssa had been very clear on the need for Phoebe to sleep. She said it had to happen no matter what.

Phoebe shook her head forcefully. Her brown hair flew around her face.

“Phoebe, we are having a sleep,” I said, trying to sound forceful but not scary. How the hell did anyone do this shit?

She shook her head again.

I stepped forward and picked her up gently to carry her into her room. She kicked her legs out and screamed. When I tried to put her back on the ground, she was still kicking and screaming and wouldn’t get her legs underneath her. Her cries were so loud the neighbours must have heard them.

Fuck me dead,
I thought.
How the fuck do people deal with this?

I couldn’t ring Alyssa. As desperate as I was for assistance from someone, I knew no one who could help.

Then I remembered there was someone I could call who had experience with children. I dialled Ben’s number and spoke to him briefly. Somehow through Phoebe’s screams, he was able to decipher the reason for my call. He told me some techniques that he used. Basically it boiled down to bribery and distraction. Too bad I couldn’t get a word in edgewise to try to distract her. I hung up the phone with a promise to call him later. For the moment, I had to deal with the still-screaming child who was now flailing on the floor.

Picking her up, and holding her as gently as I could while avoiding the hazards that were her arms and legs, I carried her to her room. I lay down on the bed with her and began playing a game Ben had suggested, Round and Round the Garden. Eventually, Phoebe began to calm, and even giggle, and I was able to convince her to lie still with me while I read her a story. Then I began to hum a tune to her. I couldn’t remember the words, but it was something Mum used to sing to me.

After what felt like hours of battling her, her eyes began to drift closed, and she fell asleep leaning against my chest. I didn’t want to move for fear of waking her. Allowing the peace and quiet of the now still house to wash over me, I closed my own eyes. Phoebe’s rhythmic, soft breathing made my mind drift slowly into slumber.

My eyes snapped open when I heard the front door click unlocked. A second later I heard a voice, that wasn’t Alyssa’s, call out, “Only me!”

Fuck.
I knew that voice. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in over four years. The voice of a woman I’d once considered my second mother. I panicked, not sure whether I should call out in reply or not. In the end, I remained silent and hoped that she’d think no one was home.