Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3) (20 page)

A young woman, probably no older than Alyssa and me, bounced through the doorway. Her platinum-blonde hair was swept up into a haphazard bun, with bits sticking out everywhere. Her legs were wrapped in a pair of jeans so faded and torn it was surprising they were still holding together. The soft blue blouse she wore over the top helped to restore some of the professionalism that her jeans wiped away.

“Hi, you must be Declan and Alyssa.” The way she introduced herself reminded me of an overly excited puppy. In another life, her orange-painted lips, blackened eyes, and obvious stamina probably would have been a target for my heat-seeking dick, but now I could just chuckle at her exuberant personality. She stuck her hand out as an introduction. “I’m Sara.”

Alyssa and I both said, “Hi,” and then Alyssa introduced Eden and Phoebe.

After nodding in greeting to Eden, Sara crouched down in front of Phoebe. “Lovely to meet you, Phoebe.”

With a shy smile, Phoebe glanced up from her colouring and said, “Hello.”

Sara asked a couple of questions to Phoebe, just simple things like what she was colouring. Things clearly designed to make Phoebe more comfortable. Despite the fact that the questions were all directed down at our daughter, it was clearly working on Alyssa as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stance relax, her smile grow, and the mask she put on so often with strangers slowly fade away.

After a few minutes chatting with Phoebe, Sara rested her hands on her knees and looked up at me. “Are you ready to do this?”

Swallowing down my fear over the possible questions she might ask, I nodded. “I am. Lys?”

Alyssa gave me a smile that suggested her worries were at least as deep as mine. Maybe deeper, because she’d never had to deal with the press before. I’d been grilled before in interviews, with questions that covered everything from my meteoric rise to my spectacular crashes. It was easier knowing that we had control over what would go to print.

When Alyssa nodded as well, Sara pointed to the couch.

Flashes of the photo shoot, and the resulting bathroom session, flooded through my mind. I tried to hide my smile as I sat, but was sure I failed when I met Alyssa’s questioning gaze.

“You don’t mind if I record, do you?” Sara put a tablet on the desk. It was already recording, but I figured she was just getting our permission on record.

Both Alyssa and I told her we didn’t.

“Now, Declan, I know you’ll be familiar with this process, but Alyssa, just pretend it’s the three of us and you’ve invited me around to chat, okay? Try not to think of the recording. I know you’ve managed to get final copy approval, so nothing that you want off the record will go to print anyway. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Alyssa said.

“Awesome. Let’s start with the easy stuff first, shall we?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: INTERVIEW WITH AN EX-DRIVER

SARA PULLED OUT a notepad and flicked through it, clearly having a specific page in mind. Her eyes scanned the page, and then she obviously found the list of questions she must have organised. “Declan, until recently, you’ve had a reputation as a ladies’ man. You’re even on record multiple times stating that you didn’t think there was a woman out there for you. It’s, uh, quite the turnaround to now be revealing that you are in a committed relationship with the mother of your three-year-old daughter, isn’t it?”

That was the easy stuff?
Fuck.
A nervous chuckle slipped from me as I tried to work out the best way to explain the shift that had happened for me in the last month. “What can I say other than denial isn’t just a river in Egypt? I’ve always loved Alyssa. On some level, I think I knew that. I fought so hard against it because I didn’t know how to cope with it. The last month, having her in my life again, has reminded me of all the good and bad we shared back in high school. Everything that makes us who we are, both as individuals and as a couple.”

“So you were high school sweethearts?”

Both Alyssa and I said “yes” at the same time.

“And why did that end?”

A loaded glance passed between Alyssa and me. She was silently asking me to answer, but I would have anyway because ultimately the decision to leave had been mine. After all, she’d tried to reconcile even before she knew about her pregnancy.

“I was offered a chance to race, and at the time I thought that was the most important thing.”

“And now?”

“Now, well, I wish I knew then what I’ve learned in the last month. I think the choices I made would have been a little different.”

“How so?”

“Even though the thought was terrifying at seventeen, I actually think that Lys and I could have made a go of things in Sydney. There were universities down here she could have gone to. At the very least, we could have tried to make it work long distance.”

“With that being the case, do you regret the choices you made while you were apart?”

I cast my gaze in Alyssa’s direction and she wrapped her hand around my arm. We’d touched on this between us in so many little ways, but I wanted to frame my answer in a way that wouldn’t hurt her. “Yes and no. All of those things hurt people, hurt Alyssa, but they also ultimately led me back to her. They forced me to hit rock bottom and now I know that the only way is up. When I rebuild, I’ll be building on a stronger foundation than I’ve ever had before. Plus, I’ll be doing it with Alyssa at my side. And Phoebe.”

“Your daughter?” It was clear it was a question purely for the recording.

As if she thought I’d called her, Phoebe wandered over. We’d told Eden that it was fine for her to be around us during the interview if she was getting unsettled.

“Look, Daddy.” She held up the colouring book to show me the now purple-skinned princess she’d been working on.

“Very nice! That one deserves a high five,” I said, holding my hand up. She smacked her palm against mine and then ran back over to Eden. “She’s, uh . . .” My gaze followed her, and I trailed off while I tried to think of the appropriate words. When I moved my focus back to Sara, I was certain a smile a mile wide crossed my lips. “Well, she’s the light of my life. God, that sounds so clichéd, doesn’t it? But it’s true. She gives me a reason to be better, in a way that even Alyssa could never provide.” I reached for Alyssa’s hand and clasped it in my lap, letting her know I hadn’t meant the words in a malicious way. She gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, reassuring me that she hadn’t taken offense. “Just a few months ago, anyone who knows me would have said I wasn’t exactly the daddy type.”

Alyssa chuckled. “You would have said that about yourself.”

I couldn’t help laughing because it was true. “Probably. Now though. Well, I can’t imagine a life without her in it.”

“He’s so good with her too.” Alyssa’s smile made my heart melt. “A natural.”

My grin matched hers. Fuck, I was growing into a sappy wanker being around her—the worst part was that I couldn’t even find it in myself to care. “I wouldn’t say a complete natural. The first time I was alone with her, man she had me by my—” I cut myself off before I finished my sentence by naming parts of my anatomy best not discussed with a national magazine. “Let’s just say she had me wrapped around her little finger the whole time.”

We talked a little more about Phoebe, and about the mistakes I’d made in the past. Alyssa chipped in where she could. Before long, the conversation turned to the article in
Gossip Weekly
. We were careful with what we said, because they could easily sue us for libel if we said anything too derogatory about them, but by the same token, we didn’t want to let anyone think that we were happy with the bullshit they’d printed.

Sara was a complete professional, touching on subjects just deeply enough to be interesting to readers, without delving too deeply into the story about how I left Brisbane in the first place and why Alyssa and I hadn’t had any contact in the intervening years. She even skirted around her knowledge of Emmanuel expertly, leaving his history off the record completely.

Although we had no real clues what they’d ask before we started, we didn’t have any complaints by the end. We’d been certain they wouldn’t bother to ask anything that we would veto anyway, because it would be pointless and a waste of everyone’s time. Especially when we just wouldn’t answer the question. In the end, because Sara had avoided the worst topics for us, neither of us had shied away from any of her questions.

The interview had become a study in reflection of things that had happened over the past few months—years really—of my life. Sara’s frank questions had forced me to consider some things that I’d been happier to ignore, and reminded me of some things I never wanted to forget.

When we finished the interview, Sara told us we were welcome to use the hotel room for the night if we wanted, as it was paid for until the following morning, but I refused, explaining that Alyssa and Phoebe were due on a plane. And I sure as shit didn’t need, or want, a hotel room on my own.

“The issue is due to the printer at the end of the week, so I’ll courier a copy to you tomorrow afternoon for final copy approval. I have no idea how you managed to wrangle that. You must have one hell of a negotiator on your side.”

Alyssa looked to the floor as Sara said the words.

I wrapped my arm around her waist. “The best.”

And after almost an hour reminiscing about what my life had been like before, I couldn’t be happier that she was at my side. In a little over a month’s time, she’d be down in Sydney permanently, and our life could truly begin.

Before that, though, I needed to ensure that the ones who’d almost cost us our happiness paid for their interference.

Whatever the price.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: SECOND CHANCES

AT EIGHT THIRTY the following morning, I was parked in front of a familiar building trying to stave off a panic attack. I was breathing through my nose, repeating my mantra over and over, and trying to think of Phoebe and Alyssa. It was all failing.

All of it was useless.

I
was fucking useless.

The impression of the steering wheel was probably branded across my forehead because I’d pressed my face hard against it to hide from prying eyes. My heart sputtered and raced, pounding so hard that I could almost taste each beat. Sweat coated my palms no matter how many times I rubbed them against my pants. My fists were clenched so tight around the leather that my short fingernails were digging into the flesh of my palms. I was a bundle of nerves strung together with a pile of contradictions. Saliva flooded my mouth, but my throat was too dry. I couldn’t breathe. My was heart too big in my chest; my lungs too small. A churning rocked my stomach as it both twisted around the quickie breakfast I’d had, and yet felt empty at the same time.

Why was I even bothering to turn up for the meeting with Danny? From the moment I’d awoken, every possible outcome of Danny’s request had assaulted me. None of them were great.

It wasn’t like he was going to do a one-eighty and give me my fucking job back. He’d said as much in every conversation we’d had so far. He was probably just going to rub my nose in his decision one more time. Remind me of all the reasons he didn’t want me on his fucking team.

Why am I here?

Would anyone even notice if I drove home and never showed? It was a thought I’d had at least ten times on the drive over. Twice, I’d even got to the point of pulling over and bringing up Danny’s number on my phone, ready to tell him I wasn’t coming in. 

Despite that, I was cleaned and pressed, and ready for the meeting. At least on the outside. Inside, I was a quivering mess. It was only made harder by the fact that I’d had to fend for myself all morning. I’d awoken alone. Had breakfast alone. Showered alone.

Just like last time they were in Sydney, the precious few days I’d spent with Alyssa and Phoebe had spoiled me, and crashing back to reality was fucking hard.

Fuck, Morgan was right. At some point I’d definitely traded my cock for a vagina. Not only that, I’d done it willingly. I’d fucking do it again to see the awe in Phoebe’s turquoise eyes as she looked at me when we told her the truth about me. To taste Alyssa’s lips over and over. To spend mornings having breakfast together and making jokes over our Weet-Bix.

Fuck, I missed them.

A chuckle escaped me as I lifted my gaze to the rear-view mirror. “You’ve had a night where you thought you lost them,” I chastised my reflection. “You made it through that. Is going for a meeting with Danny really worse than that?”

Letting my feet carry me from the car before the doubts could settle back in, I headed into the office. At the security desk, I greeted the guard. He didn’t seem surprised to see me, but I didn’t think he would be. Even though it wouldn’t be news that was shared with everyone in the building, Danny would have told key staff that I was coming.

What did surprise me was that after getting me to sign in and giving me a guest pass, the guard left me to find my own way to Danny’s office. Generally guests would only be allowed past reception with supervision. It could only have been on Danny’s instruction. None of the security staff would have risked their jobs doing something so reckless just because they knew me.

Was Danny trying to give me some sense of normalcy? But why?

I walked down the hallway of Sinclair Racing’s headquarters, thankful I was alone for a moment as the memories of the last time I walked through the corridor flashed through me. The last time I’d tread the path, it had led to one of the darkest moments of my life. Now, it seemed to offer a ray of hope, however miniscule that might be.

When I reached Danny’s office, I paused in front of the door. My heart was in my throat and my hands shook slightly. I tried to tell myself there was nothing that could happen that would be worse than what already had, but it didn’t help the nerves that had come back in force, racing laps around my body and dragging my sanity away in their wake.

I tried not to think of what came next and reminded myself that regardless of the outcome, I would be seeing Alyssa and Phoebe again in person in four weeks—for Christmas—at the longest.

Sooner if I could.

And after that, they’d be moving in and everything would be the way it was supposed to be.

Still, the questions looped. Questions that would be answered as soon as I opened the damned door, but it felt like too much effort. Was Danny going to offer me another chance like Eden thought? Would I take it if he did? Alyssa seemed cautiously optimistic when I’d told her.

Even after time to think on it—to stress over every implication that might come from going back—I still wanted to be back with Sinclair Racing. Despite his knee-jerk reaction to the magazine, Danny had always been understanding—especially considering he’d known the worst of my drug use and had been willing to overlook it because I’d gotten clean. He genuinely gave a damn about his staff, and that was worth something to me. If my hope wasn’t misplaced, then maybe he was big enough to swallow his pride, admit he’d made a mistake in sacking me, and offer me a role on the team. Any role. If he did, didn’t I owe it to myself and my family to accept?

If I had a job lined up before Phoebe and Alyssa moved to Sydney, it would only make our lives easier. I couldn’t get ahead of myself, though. Knowing my luck, there was probably just some paperwork he needed me to sign to formalise everything with my sacking.

Sucking down a deep breath, and pushing all hope from my mind lest it let me down, I knocked on his office door.

“Come in,” his voice called.

When I pushed through the door, I was greeted by Danny stationed behind his desk. He regarded me sternly as I entered before standing and moving around the small space to shake my hand.

“Thank you for coming today, Declan.”

“Of course.” My words coated my tongue so that I had to give a small cough to clear my throat.

“Sit,” he said, waving his hand toward the chair across the desk from him.

I didn’t wait to be asked again, taking the seat he’d indicated.  

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to come by.”

Worried that if I tried to speak through my stress, my voice would come out high and scratchy, I nodded and gestured for him to continue.

His fingers formed a steeple in front of his nose. “Your phone call yesterday certainly gave me cause to stop and think.”

Drawing in a calming breath, I waited for him to continue.

“I meant what I said though, Declan. I can’t have you race for me anymore. Even if I had a spare car, there are simply too many factors that would make it a bad business decision.”

“The magazines?”

He parted his hands, giving a half shrug before clasping them back together in front of him again. “Among other things.” 

“But?” I knew there was one. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been sitting across from him in his office just days before the team was due to race in Tasmania. The behind-the-scenes prep would have well and truly started. In fact, Danny was probably due in Tassie later that day or early the next. If it was just a friendly chat, it would have waited until after the season had broken in two weeks.

“Well, despite the difficult days you have endured recently, including some undoubtedly caused by losing your position here, you have shown fierce loyalty to Sinclair Racing. Loyalty like that is rare indeed, and I believe it should be rewarded.”

My heart started to stutter, but I tried to remain outwardly calm. I leaned back into the chair, attempting desperately to give off an air of indifference even though all I wanted to do was lean forward, slam my hands against the desk, and demand he tell me more.

“I believe we might be able to find you a position here. However, it’s unlikely to be the one you want.”

Fuck. He probably was planning to have me scrub the toilets or some shit, just like I’d joked. I forced my jaw closed, clenching my teeth. My cheeks and jawline probably showed the telltale signs, but if Danny noticed he didn’t say anything.

“After our phone call, I talked at length with Liam, and he’s agreed to take you on as an apprentice mechanic. If you’re interested, that is. I believe you have some talent in that area.”

Despite my offer to come back to any position, and Danny’s repeated confirmation that I wouldn’t drive for him again, part of me had obviously still clung desperately to the hope that he’d backflip on the issue. Even though it had been battered and wounded almost beyond recognition lately, my pride had me wanting to push out of my chair and leave, telling Danny to shove his offer up his fucking arse on the way. What a fucking long way to fall. From driver to apprentice grease monkey. I would be the laughing stock of the team.

It was so fucking tempting to tell him to piss off.

Only, I had Alyssa and Phoebe to support now. Being an apprentice
would
give me a trade. Something to fall back on—or move on to, as it were. I stared impassively at Danny as the two sides waged war in my head.

“I still think you have a lot of potential as a driver, young man. It’s unfortunate a lack of sponsorships makes that impossible right now. I’m sure you understand that I have to think of what is in the best interest of the whole team, not any one individual within it. But I do feel that it would be pertinent at this juncture to remind you that you’re still young. You have a lot of life left to make up for certain mistakes. Right now, the most important ally you have is time.” His gaze was stern. Steady. It held me captive as I tried to decipher the message he was trying to portray, hidden within his words. Something he couldn’t say outright lest it bite him on the arse, but something he wanted me to know regardless. “If enough time passes, some controversies can be forgotten by the public. And by the sponsors. Especially if no new ones come to light.”

I nodded. My heart was in my throat as I pieced together his cryptic clues. Despite everything he’d said so far, there was hope. A huge fucking hope. If I interpreted him correctly, he was telling me that not only was there a position for me at Sinclair Racing as an apprentice, but that perhaps another position—maybe even my old position—would open up if I could avoid being in the spotlight for the wrong reasons for long enough.

There was a possibility I could be back on the track before too long. It might be small, but it was there. In the meantime, I could learn a fall-back trade and support my new family. My heart was in my throat as I considered it. It was as close to a win/win as I could ever expect to be offered under the circumstances.

I could have told him to shove it and waited for another driving role, but there was no guarantee another one would be offered to me. Especially if sponsors were using their money to keep me out after the scandals. Not all teams would be willing to make the gamble that Paige was willing to make, and I was certain she was only making it because of her connections to the media.

Even if I were offered another driver role, there was no guarantee it would be in Sydney. Or with a team that valued each member as much as Sinclair Racing always had.

“So, Declan, what do you think of my offer? Obviously it will mean a reduction in your salary, but you could start back on Monday. That is, if you’d like.”

It wasn’t until he’d spoken again that I realised I’d been sitting, staring at him like a tosser as the possibilities ran through my mind.

Swallowing hard on the mixture of fear and shattered pride that had risen in my gullet, I glanced at the hand extended to me across the desk. The metaphoric olive branch that might one day see me back in the seat of a V8 without having to sacrifice Alyssa, move, or work for an insane cougar.

Meeting his gaze across the desk, I considered my options. The thing was, I truly didn’t blame him for the decision he’d made to kick me off the team. He’d felt hurt and betrayed. I could easily understand those emotions—it was how I’d felt after Josh’s attack years earlier. The decisions I’d made then, with a knee-jerk reaction, hadn’t been all that dissimilar to Danny’s. I’d cut Alyssa from my life because I’d assumed something that wasn’t entirely true. I hadn’t trusted her or myself enough to believe we’d be able to work it out.

Besides, all the evidence presented to Danny had pointed in the direction of the conclusion he’d reached. It was likely I would’ve thought the same thing if the article had been about anyone else. 

The fact that he was even admitting he was at least partly wrong showed his integrity. It would be difficult to swallow my pride each day and deal with the shit that was sure to result from my choice, but to make up for it, I would be back at my dream team.

After everything we’d been through, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Alyssa would be by my side through it all. She wouldn’t look down on me for accepting the role. She’d just want me to be happy.

It wasn’t a difficult decision, but I wrestled over something internally for a few more seconds before stating, “I accept. On one condition.”

The hand wavered and dropped just a little.