Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives)
Read Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives) Online
Authors: Marita A. Hansen
Behind the Tears
By Marita A. Hansen
An extract from
Behind the Hood.
An extract from
Graffiti Heaven.
Copyright
Behind the Tears
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2012 © Marita A. Hansen
Edited by John Hudspith
Cover Art by Marita A. Hansen
Kindle Edition, License Notes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means whatsoever without the written permission of the author, nor circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
For subsidiary rights enquiries email: [email protected]
All characters, names, places, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
UK and Commonwealth English used due to the New Zealand setting.
Any other variation in spelling is also due to where the book is set, such as seen in the dialogue, which reflects the characters’ cultural and socio-economic backgrounds. This is why some characters use different speech patterns from others.
August 2010
_________________
27 Friday
Dear fucking diary,
There’s only one day until my parole hearing. I got my hair cut for it as though I’m going on a date with lady luck. And I definitely need some luck to get out of here. I’ve been in this hell hole for ten years now. Iron bars, concrete, and the constant worry that someone is going to shank me because they think I’m a paedo. But I’m not. If I was a paedo I wouldn’t still be interested in Ash. I wonder what he looks like now at twenty-five. I've been told he's tall and built like his father, although, from memory, he resembled his mother more. She was a pretty thing. I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t mean to hurt Ash either. I loved that boy. Still do. I want to make it up to him when I get out. If everything goes to plan, I’ll take him up north and we can start a new life—away from everyone, especially from Dante. God!!! It makes me want to trash my cell just thinking about Ash’s brother. I HATE that shite! He should be in fucking jail, not me! He brought the knife into the room, not me! If he hadn’t done that then his bloody mother wouldn’t have taken it off him and tried to stab me. All I did was defend myself, but because of Dante no one believed me. He even got up on the stand and cried, like he was some scared kid. Dante doesn’t cry; he has no fucking feelings. All he was doing was buying the jury’s sympathy. Everything is about Dante with him. He always did what he wanted and never thought about anyone but himself. I don’t regret hurting him one bit, not one fucking bit! I’d kick the shit out of him again in a heartbeat, destroy the little prick—or even better—I heard he looks like Ash now, which means he must be a right handsome fucker. Ha! I know exactly what I can do to the arsehole.
Chaz
Beth
Friday
Beth peered through the window of the police cell. Her boyfriend was pacing the small enclosure like a caged animal, the menace practically rolling off him. She wasn’t being melodramatic either; the blood on Ash’s knuckles and face adding to the effect along with his vicious glare. But despite the situation Ash was in, he wasn’t a criminal... Okay, maybe he was
sort
of, but it wasn’t like he was a bad one.
Ash’s angry gaze shifted to Beth, making her a little afraid of what was to come. Although she had no reason to be, because he’d never hurt her. He was just so...
intense
, yeah, that was the right word. It was thrilling at times, but also unnerving. He was definitely a hard man, but that was what attracted her to the oldest of the Rata brothers. And with the Māori-styled tattoo circling his neck, his wavy black hair and a body gift-wrapped in leather, he was definitely an impressive package. That sounded almost rude, although it was apt, because just looking at him got her we—
The police officer unlocked the cell. Beth stepped aside to allow Ash room to exit, tensing as he headed past. “I’ll see you at home,” Ash muttered, then disappeared through the gate further down the corridor. She continued to stare at the empty space he’d left behind, anger now mixing with disbelief. “A ‘thanks’ would’ve been nice,” she mumbled, wishing she’d said it before he’d left. He’d called her at work, making her close early, which she knew would get her into trouble with her boss.
“Thanks, Bethy-babe,” came a slurred response.
Beth turned to Ash’s brother. Dante was slumped on a bench inside the cell with his eyes half-closed. Despite his different tattoos, he looked the same as Ash, just with an irreverent personality and a smile that made her blush, like she’d gotten caught watching porn.
Beth went inside and coaxed him to stand.
Dante put an arm around her shoulders and got to his feet. “You
love
me,” he said as they walked out of the cell.
She wrinkled her nose. “Your breath stinks.”
“You still love me, everyone loves me.” He stopped outside the neighbouring cell and looked through the window. “Matty loves me; he said he’d suck my dick.” Dante raised his middle finger and placed it against the window. “Suck on this, twat-face!” He let go of Beth and staggered out of the holding area.
She followed him to the police counter, where a woman with a bruised face was yelling at a man, who was being forced into the holding area by two cops. A group of scruffy teenagers sat watching, their smiles suggesting they were high. Supposedly the worst neighbourhood in New Zealand, Claydon was situated on the south side of Auckland. The media portrayed it as gang-ridden, but Beth didn’t think it was that bad. Her workmates disagreed, saying she wouldn’t see trouble if it smacked her in the face, but they were wrong, they didn’t live here, plus she knew what trouble looked like, and right now it was staggering towards the front door of the police station.
Dante wobbled down the steps, looking like he was going to kiss the pavement at any moment. He laughed and wolf-whistled at a transvestite getting out of a police van. Beth apologised to the tranny, but the he-woman ignored her, instead blowing a kiss to Dante, who pretended to catch it and throw it back.
Beth steered Dante towards her car, momentarily distracted by the loud rock music blasting from the pub across the main road, where Dante would’ve gone earlier to fill up on booze and women.
“Bethy-
babe
,” Dante said, snapping her attention back to him. He leaned against her Volkswagen, giving her a devilish grin and again proving her point that he was trouble with a capital T. The street lights made his dark eyes shine like onyx, the Māori tattoo around his left one adding to his cheeky allure.
Allure.
If she’d used that word in front of her own brothers they would’ve put their fingers down their throats and gagged. They always complained about her “pukeable” use of language, saying that she lived in a world of romance novels.
Dante waggled his eyebrows comically and grabbed his crotch. “I wouldn’t say no to you.”
Beth refrained from smiling. “I would to you. And you’re lucky Ash didn’t hear you say that.”
He pulled a face. “I don’t care; you should be with me, not him.”
Beth hesitated, wondering whether he meant it, then shook her head, annoyed with herself for believing him. “You’re drunk, Dante, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
He lowered his head, peering out from under his messy hair. “Yes, I do, and I’ll say it again:
you should be with me
.”
Feeling uncomfortable, Beth remained in the same spot. He’d never said anything like that before, only harmlessly flirted, but Dante flirted with everyone, including guys who showed interest in him, although he wasn’t that way inclined. He just liked to tease, then would walk away when someone he didn’t want pressed for more.
Dante gave her a cheeky smile, then slid down the side of the car, landing hard on his rear, his drunken state cushioning the blow for now, although it would be sore tomorrow.
Yeah, the sod was teasing. She opened the front passenger door and helped him inside, pulling the seatbelt down to buckle him in.
He grabbed her and kissed her head, slurring, “I do love you,” into her hair, then let go, one of his hands dropping onto his lap.
Unnerved, Beth clicked on his seatbelt then removed herself from the car, stopping to look down at him. He appeared to have fallen asleep. She reached out to brush his hair away from the tattoo, her hand lingering on his skin longer than she knew she should. He moved his head to the side, making her retract her hand quickly. He remained asleep, his hair falling back over the tattoo.
She continued to watch him for a few moments, then closed his door and walked around the car, guilt making her shiver more than the cold night air. She got in the driver’s seat and started the engine, the car coughing and spluttering like a sick old lady.
Dante jolted awake, mumbling, “Where are we?”
“On our way home.” She pulled out onto the main road and headed for the round-about, getting a feeling he was staring at her. She glanced at him, instantly regretting it. His dark gaze was latched onto her, his stare unflinching, as though he knew she’d touched him.
She focused on the road. “Why wuz Ash in jail with you?” Unlike Dante, it was a rarity for Ash to be picked up by the police.
“I called him for a lift. When he got to the pub he saw some underage kids being let in. He told the bouncer, but the prick just laughed and called the kids jailbait. Ash lost it, and attacked him. I tried to break it up, but the cops got the wrong idea and hauled us both in.”
“
Dante,
” she dragged out his name, exasperated with him. “You know he hates the pub, you should never have asked him for a lift.”
Looking guilty, Dante slumped in his seat. “I couldn’t get a hold of anyone else.”
“You could’ve taken a taxi.” Even though they didn’t live far from the pub, Dante had a bad habit of walking on busy roads when he was drunk, so she’d made him promise he’d always catch a ride home.
“I had no money left.”
“Then you shouldn’t have spent it all on booze,” she said, turning onto their road. “I distinctly told you to save some for a taxi fare before I went to work.”