Hero Duty (22 page)

‘Charles hit me. He…well, he did more than that. He was abusive. A wealthy, indulged boy when I met him, and God forgive me, I thought he was glamorous. I was a kid from the suburbs, imagining myself a model. He introduced me to the good life. I paid for my ticket, so many ways. Then Derek was born and he paid, too.’

‘He’s dead, Mum. Dead and buried. Let him rot.’

She looked at her son and anguish shattered the beautiful mask of her face. ‘He lives in you.’

Derek jerked at the verbal blow. ‘No. No!’

‘I thought you were clear of him,’ Portia continued as if she hadn’t heard his violent rejection. ‘I used to watch your girlfriends. I despised Anabel, but I knew she wouldn’t put up with abuse. I was relieved that you didn’t choose victims. So I buried everything else.’

‘I’ve never stabbed anyone. Never burned them with cigarettes or whipped them from their bed.’

Jessica hurt to hear the raw, bewildered protest in her stepbrother’s voice. That was what he’d endured.

‘But you set people up, again and again,’ Portia said. ‘To be embarrassed, fooled, cast out. Elaborate plots at school.’

And in business. Everyone at the table knew it.

‘Your cruelty is more refined.’ Portia drew a deep breath. ‘And I was wilfully blind. The men in my life…’

‘Mum.’ Derek sounded tortured.

‘Charles died in a car crash when Derek was seven. I thought I was free, but you never escape the shadow of abuse. It cuts you and cuts you. It has to stop, Derek. What you’re planning can’t hurt Jessica, or not for long. Brodie loves her.’

Jessica’s gaze jerked from Portia to Brodie who nodded.

Portia wasn’t done. ‘Love, not money, will wrap her up and bring her home. But you and I, Derek, we’ll be forever in the hell Charles dragged us into unless you let this go; revenge, thinking you’re owed, wanting to punish the world.’

‘And to prove you’re not powerless,’ Jessica said softly.

Everyone stared at her.

She walked slowly around the table, touched Portia on the shoulder, felt Brodie’s warmth, and bent to Derek where he sat in his chair. She kissed his cheek. ‘You’re my brother. All you need do is ask.’

She mourned all their wasted years when they’d fought their demons alone. It was her fault, too. She’d taken Derek and Portia at face value. She’d believed their masks, trapped by her own insecurity, never looking deeper. Never accepting that she — not the money — could be needed. They could have helped one another. Healed.

‘I won’t be your beggar,’ Derek growled.

Jessica put a hand up, halting Brodie’s protective move forward. She saw the pain in Derek’s eyes: his anger, confusion and fear. ‘So ask for the money to start your own business. Stepson of the chairman or not, Joe wouldn’t have tolerated you in Numbat if you didn’t have what it takes to run a business. Make your own life.’

The arrogance that Derek had worn as armour was gone. He looked young and lost. In his world, you took what you wanted. There were no free gifts. He couldn’t process her invitation to step out of the past. ‘I was going to destroy your life.’

‘No, your mum was right. You were going to try, but I have a hero.’ She smiled at Brodie, ignoring the tears in her eyes.

He put an arm around her and drew her into his body. ‘And so do I.’

‘I’ve never slept in a bed on a plane before,’ Jessica said.

‘You’re not sleeping now.’ Brodie pointed out, relaxed and indulgent. They’d just joined the mile-high club.

‘This was one of Vera’s better ideas. I’m going to miss her as secretary.’

‘But then you’d have to stay on as chairman.’

Jessica shuddered. ‘Not worth it.’

After all the dramas of the Monday morning meeting, Joe’s original purpose for it seemed an anticlimax — even though it was revolutionary.

Joe was going to take Numbat public. Jessica would retain thirty per cent; enough that she could keep an eye on Pops’ legacy, but not enough that she’d feel burdened. Besides which, she’d had a brain wave. It had been Vera who’d steered Ian through his chairmanship. She knew Numbat and its world inside out, and she had ethics. Vera would sit on the new public board and vote Jessica’s shares.

Vera had been overwhelmed. Then she’d started strategizing.

Derek had gone travelling, a strange kind of New Age traveller, looking to find himself. Selling his car and apartment had cleared his debts, and would fund the first leg of his wanderings. Joe had sorted out Raoul of Bigger Yet, so there’d be no fall-out there.

She and Derek might never be friends, but they’d both accepted a tie of family. It was good to belong.

Portia had returned to the white mansion, although with a new staff. Mae and Steve had moved on. Mae had just emailed with the name of the movie star they’d be working for. She would arrange for Jessica to meet her soon.

As for Jessica and Brodie, they were flying back to Jardin Bay in a private jet. Jessica wanted to visit the south west coast again, now that she was free of phobias and ghosts. Holidays there had been wonderful adventures.

Plus, Brodie had family in Jardin Bay. She’d meet his granddad and stay a few days in his brother’s house. There would be time to simply be together.

She smiled.

‘A kiss for your thoughts,’ he said.

‘I was thinking that I’ve never made love on a beach.’ She stretched luxuriously against the soft cotton sheets of the bed. Sex when the jet hit minor turbulence had been fun. ‘Another new experience.’

‘The sand’s a problem at the beach,’ Brodie said seriously. ‘And sea gulls.’

‘Sea gulls?’ She rose up on an elbow to stare at him.

‘I don’t like their beady eyes and their squawks are pretty critical.’

‘You think the gulls are going to judge your performance?’

‘Yours, too.’

Hmm.

His hand crept stealthily along her hip, curving in. ‘So I guess we should practise some.’

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Outside, white puffy clouds streamed past. ‘Good plan.’

***

‘No gulls,’ she said two days later, sun-warmed and loved up. They’d solved the sand problem by bringing a queen-sized blanket to the remote beach.

‘Pardon?’ Brodie glided his hand up and down her spine.

She stretched luxuriously, and then rolled to look at him. ‘Forget the gulls. Talk to me.’

‘All right. Get dressed, though.’

She frowned. ‘A serious talk?’

‘You naked messes with my thinking.’

‘I’ll remember that.’ But tension made her slightly clumsy as she pulled on her shirt and shorts.

Brodie left it at shorts, which wasn’t exactly fair. His naked chest could distract a saint.

She sat down on the blanket beside him. ‘Go on.’

‘I want the job of running your philanthropic trust.’

Her heart stopped, then beat double time.

‘I know I acted like an idiot when you proposed the idea.’ He laced his fingers with hers. ‘It’s hard. Granddad brought us up that a man supports his woman.’

She’d met his granddad. Tom was gruff and wonderful. He so obviously loved his grandsons. But he was also extremely old-fashioned. Seeing the values he’d instilled in Brodie, she understood how deeply he’d struggled with her wealth.

‘Honey,’ she began.

He brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. ‘I finally figured it out. We’re in this together. If I let my pride stop me from helping you do good with your Pops’ gift to his loved grandchild, then I’m an idiot. And a truly poor man because I’ve rejected your trust. So, can I change my answer and say yes?’

‘Yes.’ She hadn’t dared hope. ‘Oh, Brodie, I have so many ideas. We can help in Afghanistan and Africa and when I go archaeologising, you can be philanthropising.’

‘You’ve been thinking about this?’ So had he. He traced the curve of her smile with his finger, then kissed her. He didn’t need to be a doctor. Organising for people to get medical care would suit him just fine. It wasn’t how he helped that mattered; it was that he helped.

‘Dreaming.’ She ran her hands down his chest and around to hug him tightly. ‘All my dreams include you.’

‘Building a life together,’ he said with satisfaction.

She smiled. ‘That’s what heroes do.’

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