Bastard (22 page)

I reach for my phone on the bedside table just as the brunette beside me stirs. Fuck, is she still here? “What time is it?” she asks.

“Time you got dressed and left,” I answer looking at the clock. Shit. 4:30am. Who’d be calling me at this hour? It better be a life or fucking death situation or someone’s gonna get their arse kicked. When I see my mum’s number on the screen my heart drops.  Jumping out of bed, I turn to the chick that shouldn’t be here.

I can’t even remember her name. Is it Sarah … Samantha … Shona? Fuck me. I’m sure it starts with an ‘S’. Either way,
I don’t do sleepovers.
I’m always upfront with every girl I bring home. They know exactly what they’re getting into. I’m pretty sure I told her to leave last night after we fucked. I guess I fell asleep and she didn’t listen. I fucking hate it when they do that.

“Get your shit and go,” I snap.

“I want to go back to sleep,” she whines, pissing me off even more. Scooping her clothes off the floor, I toss them on the bed. It’s not like I didn’t make it perfectly clear last night. This was a hook-up and nothing more. The majority of them are pretty good, but occasionally you get one of those needy ones that think they can change me. Like they have some kind of magical pussy that’s gonna keep me coming back for more.
Sorry, not happening.
There’s only one girl on this earth that can do that for me—
my Indi
. Nobody will ever live up to her.
Nobody.

“Go,” I say in a warning tone as I turn and walk out of the room so I can take this call. “Mum?”

“Carter,” she cries.

“Shit, Mum. What’s wrong?” I ask in a panic.

“It’s … It’s John.” Just hearing that fucker’s name has my blood pressure rising. If he’s hurt her in any way I’ll rip him apart. “He’s dead.” Well I wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“What? What do you mean he’s dead? What happened?” To be honest I don’t give a shit that he has died, my only concern is my mum. I’ve always hated him, but I need to remember my mother loved him.
God only knows why.

“Carter,” she sobs. “I don’t know what happened. I rolled over in bed and put my arm around him. He was so cold. He …” She starts to cry uncontrollably. It breaks my fucking heart to hear her cry. “I need you to come home, please.” Can I go back there? I suppose I don’t really have a choice. This isn’t about me. She needs me. It only takes me a split second to make my decision.

“I’m coming, Mum. I’ll be home in a few hours. Will you be okay until I get there?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I assure her.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she sniffles. It kills me to hear her so upset. “I feel so alone.” Christ, I hate that she feels that way. I know all too well what
alone
feels like.

Going back there is the last thing I want to do. I’ve spent the last five years trying to forget. My mum needs me, though.

••••

After showering and packing a few things into a bag, I’m on the road by 5:00am. As soon as I hit the freeway I pull out my phone to call my mum. I’m living in Newcastle these days. It’s a two-hour drive, north of Sydney. There’s nothing I don’t love about this place. It’s my home now and I’ll never leave. The people are great, I love the pace of life, it’s not as hectic as Sydney, and the beaches are spectacular. Originally I moved up north to try to put some distance between Indi and I. I thought it would help, but even if I moved to the ends of the earth I know she’d still be on my mind and in my heart.

When I was working with Jax, I was only a half hour drive away. Sometimes the temptation to drive past her house was hard to ignore. Being up here hasn’t stopped that desire to see her, but over time I’ve managed to deal with it.

I hate that I’m so far away from my mum right now. She’s all alone and sounded so distressed when she called. Understandably, I suppose. I’m itching to get to her as soon as I can.

“Hello,” a male voice says. I recognise it straight away. I feel my lips curve into a smile. Thank fuck he’s with her. Relief washes over me.

“Ross. Hi, it’s Carter. Christ I’m glad you’re there with her.”

“Carter, my boy,” he says affectionately. I can tell by the tone in his voice he’s happy to hear from me. It’s the same reaction I’ve gotten whenever we’ve talked over the past five years. “As soon as I heard the call come into the station I came straight here.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you. How’s she holding up?” I ask.

“Not good I’m afraid.”

“Can you tell her I’m on my way?”

“Will do. I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances, but I’m happy you’re finally coming home, son. I’m looking forward to seeing you.” I’ve never considered that place my home. Fuckwit ruined that for me. As long as my mum and Indi reside there though, my heart will too.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you, too,” I tell him. If I’m honest with myself, he’s not the only one I’m longing to see.

When I first ran away it took Ross less than a week to track me down. I guess in his line of business I should’ve expected that. I’d headed to Jax’s tattoo parlour the day I left with some drawings I’d done. I was hoping to make some quick cash. Something to help get me by until I could find some work. I guess running away without a lot of money to my name wasn’t my smartest move.

That’s where Ross Montgomery found me, the tattoo parlour. Thankfully, Jax not only bought my sketches that day, he offered me a job. He took me under his wing, and over the coming months taught me everything he knew.

Ross was pissed off when he confronted me. Pissed that I’d walked away without saying anything to anybody. He said my mum and Indi were devastated that I left the way I did, not to mention going out of their minds with worry.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” he’d asked. “I could’ve helped. Running away like you did wasn’t the answer, son.” He tried his best to talk me into coming back home with him. He even went as far as offering me a room at his house. I guess he knew my stepfather was part of the reason for me fleeing. He wasn’t the only reason. I never told him that though.

He was disappointed when I refused to go with him. But, being the easy-going man he is, he accepted that I had my reasons, even if he didn’t agree with them. At the time, I was sleeping on Jax’s couch. Ross didn’t like that idea, so the next day he helped me secure a place of my own. A little one-bedroom apartment. He also promised he wouldn’t tell anyone where I was when I asked him not to. However, he demanded I call my mother and let her know I was okay, which I did.

Ross called me every few days for the months that followed. The calls dwindled to weekly and then a couple of times a month, but he always ended the conversation by saying, “I’m here if you ever need anything, son. Don’t ever forget that.” I really appreciated that. The fact that he cared meant a lot, and still means more to me than he’ll ever know. Over the years he’s became the father figure I’ve never had. The kind of father I’ve been pining for my entire life.

I’ve accomplished so much in the last five years. I learnt at a young age that, with hard work, anything was possible. I owe so much to Jax. With my steady hand and artistic skills, I soon surpassed all his expectations and became his number one artist.

Not only was I working full time at his parlour, I was also doing private jobs after hours at my apartment. I was sensible with my money, just like I had been when I was a kid. Within a year I’d saved enough cash to open my own parlour.
‘
Indi Ink’. Yes, I named my place after her. Don’t ask me why. I guess I still wanted her to be a part of my new life. Even if it wasn’t the way I’d like it to be.

I’m the sole owner of ‘Indi Ink’, but I have a second parlour that Jax and I own together. It’s called ‘Wicked Ink’. We’re hoping one day to own a whole chain of them. The way business is booming, I can definitely see that in our future.

Jax and I have stayed close friends over the years. Although he was upset to lose me at his parlour, he didn’t hesitate to help me get set up at ‘Indi Ink’.

Initially, being a tattoo artist was not a path I would’ve chosen if I hadn’t met him. I’m thankful my journey led me to him. I love what I do. One night over a few beers, he told me about a guy he knew that was selling up and getting out of the business. That’s when he asked me if I was interested in a partnership. I jumped at the chance.

Candice run’s ‘Wicked Ink’ for us. Yes, she’s still in the picture, and her hair is still hot pink. I don’t think she’ll ever change it. We never ended up getting together after the night I knocked her back when she snuck into my room, but we’ve become close friends. She helped me to deal with the loss of Indi after I left.

Ross has supported me all the way as well. He even came to the official opening of ‘Indi Ink’. I had no idea he was coming. He never said a word about what I’d named the shop. To this day I still wonder if he knows I named it after his daughter. I guess it’s pretty fucking obvious that I did.

I can’t describe what I felt when he walked through the door that night. It blew my fucking mind. I’m so thankful that he gives a shit. He’s the only male in my life that ever has. He’s told me numerous times how proud he is of me. I fucking love him for that. As far as I know, Indi and my mum have no idea that we’ve stayed in contact all these years.

My mum and I talk on the phone regularly, but I haven’t seen her in the flesh since the day I left. She always invites me home for the holidays, but I use my work commitments as an excuse. Don’t get me wrong I wanted to see her. I fucking miss her like you wouldn’t believe. Her husband though, not so much. If I never had the displeasure of seeing him again, it would’ve been too soon. I would’ve invited her up here to my place. I thought about it a lot, but I didn’t want that Fuckwit tainting my space. My serenity. Thankfully, that’s something I no longer have to worry about.
I can’t wait to see her again
.

I’ve never asked my mum, or Ross, how Indi’s doing. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t. I guess I was scared. What you don’t know won’t hurt you, right? I have no idea what she’s been up to all these years. She could be married with kids for all I know. That thought makes me feel sick to the stomach. I suppose it’s because after all this time she still holds my heart.

Sure there’s been other women since I’ve been gone. I’m not a fucking saint. I never claimed to be. No one serious though. How can you commit to someone when your heart belongs to another? There’s not a day gone by that I haven’t thought of her, missed her.

I hope she’s happy, I really do. If I am honest with myself, I hope she is single and happy, but that’s my selfish side talking. Although the thought of actually seeing her again excites me more than I care to admit, it also scares the crap out of me. I know nothing of her last five years. Not a damn thing. I have no idea what to expect. Ross and I never talked about anything to do with my old life. It was the way I wanted it.

The alternative was just too hard. I couldn’t move on if I was still stuck in the past. He understood that, but the day he helped me move into my apartment, he said, “I hope you know what you’re giving up. I hope you don’t live to regret your decision.” I knew he was referring to Indiana. I think I’ll always regret walking away from her, but I did what I thought was best.
For her.

••••

By the time I pull into my old street, I’m feeling nauseous at the thought of being back here again. I’m not even sure if she still lives with her dad. It’s been five long years, but in a way it only seems like yesterday that I held her in my arms. Kissed those delicious fucking lips of hers. I’m sure some lucky bastard has snapped her up. Who wouldn’t? Anyone would be fortunate to have her. She’s the perfect girl. The one I let get away.

Stupid fucker.

My heart skips a beat as I drive up to the house. Wouldn’t you know it, the first thing I see is her.
Just my fucking luck.
It looks like she’s washing her car. She’s bent over the hood wearing these tiny little denim shorts. That fucking arse. Jesus I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about that arse.

I find it ironic, because the first day I arrived here, her arse was the first thing I saw. Now here I am five years later, and the same fucking thing happens. Déjà vu at its fucking worst. Is the universe trying to fuck with me, or what?

My hands are slightly trembling as I pull into the driveway. My gut is churning. My eyes are trained on her.
Please be happy to see me
, is my first thought. She straightens up. Her back still to me. When her body stiffens, I know she knows it’s me. The sound of my car probably gave it away.

I still have my Monaro. I’ll never get rid of her. I finally got to finish it. It looks so bad-arse. I fucking love this car. It still has the original Flamenco Red paintwork. I just had it redone. I also kept the black GT stripes on the hood. I replaced the tired old motor with a Blown 350 Chev and a manualised automatic transmission. The interior has been refreshed using a soft black leather. The seats have been recovered in black leather as well, with a red leather stripe through the centre. It has chrome-spoked mags on the fat eighteen-inch tyres. It looks fucking sick. Nothing gets the adrenaline pumping more than being in control of 750HP of pure muscle. I’ve had so many offers to buy this beauty, but I’d never part with her. I’ve spent a small fortune getting her to where she is now, but it was worth every cent. She’s my baby.

Everything seems to slow down as I stay seated in my car staring in her direction. It’s like the world’s suddenly moving in slow motion. She turns. When her eyes meet mine she takes my breath away, literally. Fuck she’s even more beautiful than I remember. Her eyes widen in shock and the sponge in her hand drops to the ground.

I can’t seem to move as I drink her in. My heart is thumping furiously against my ribcage. Fuck I’ve missed those eyes, those lips—her. She hasn’t changed much, just grown. A sixteen year old Indi was beautiful. A twenty-two year old Indi—fucking stunning. My
kid
is no longer a kid. She’s a sexy-as-hell woman
.
Drop dead fucking gorgeous.