Read Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) Online
Authors: Michelle Irwin
Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4)
DECLARE
DEDLAN REEDE: THE UNTOLD STORY
(BOOK 4)
MICHELLE IRWIN
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2016 by Michelle Irwin
First Edition April 2016
Published in Australia
Digital ISBN:
Also available in paperback:
Print ISBN: 978-0-9945337-2-2
Cover Artist:
Soxsationalcoverart
Cover content used for illustrative purposes only, and any person depicted is a model
.
Photography by:
NSP Studios
.
Cover models: Ashleigh Johnson and Jarah Armstrong.
Make-up by
Al’4beauty by Carein
.
Editing by:
Hot Tree Editing
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The following story is set in Australia and therefore has been written in UK/Australian English. The spelling and usage reflect that.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and for all other inquiries, contact:
Michelle Irwin P O Box 671 MORAYFIELD QLD 4506 AUSTRALIA
DEDICATION:
To you, dear reader, for sticking with Declan (and me) through it all.
Click here to get started:
http://www.michelle-irwin.com/
CONTENTS:
CHAPTER FIVE: WHAT’S IN A DATE?
CHAPTER EIGHT: PREDICTABLE PATH
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: EMERGENCY DASH
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THREE-DAY BREAK
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: FAMILIAR FEELING
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: LIFE’S A PARTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: RECKLESS
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: IT IS YOU
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: PROS AND CONS
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: NAUGHTY NASTY BOY
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: FIRST NIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: EXPECTING
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: JUST MANAGING
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: RACING LINE
Note: This book is set in Australia, as such it uses Australian/UK spelling and some Australian slang. Although you should be able to understand the novel without a glossary, there is always fun to be had in learning new words. Temperatures are in Celsius, weight is in kilograms, and distance is (generally) in kilometres (although we still have some slang which uses miles).
Arse:
Ass.
AVO:
Apprehended Violence Order.
Bedhead:
Headboard.
Bench:
Counter.
Bitumen:
Asphalt.
Bonnet:
Hood.
Boot:
Trunk.
Bottle-o:
Bottle shop/liquor store.
Buggery:
Multiple meanings. Technically bugger/buggery is sodomy/anal sex, but in Australia, the use is more varied. Bugger is a common expression of disbelief/disapproval.
Came down in the last shower (Do you think I):
Born yesterday
CAMS:
Confederation of Australian Motor Sport.
Cherry (Drag racing):
Red light indicating that you “red-lighted”/jumped the start.
Cock-ups:
Fuck-ups/mistakes.
Dagwood Dogs:
Corndogs
Diamante:
Rhinestone.
Dipper:
See S Bends below.
Do (Charity Do):
Function/event.
Dob:
Tell on.
Doona:
Blanket/comforter.
Face Washer:
Face cloth.
Fairy-Floss:
Cotton candy.
Fillies:
Girls.
Footpath:
Sidewalk.
Formal:
Prom.
Fours:
Cars with a four-cylinder engine.
Gobful:
Mouthful
HANS:
Head And Neck Support.
Hydralyte:
Hydrating formula (electrolytes).
Loo:
Toilet.
Message bank:
Voicemail.
Mirena:
An IUD that contains and releases a small amount of a progesterone hormone directly into the uterus.
Mozzies:
Mosquitoes.
Necked:
Drank from.
Newsagency:
A shop which sells newspapers/magazines/lotto tickets. Similar to a convenience store, but without the food.
Off my face:
Drunk/under the influence (including of drugs).
Pap:
Paparazzi.
Panadol/Paracetamol:
Active ingredient in pain-relievers like Tylenol and Panadol.
Pavlova:
Meringue-based desert, usually served covered with fresh cream and seasonal fruits (aka: sugar heaven).
Phone/Mobile Phone/Mobile Number:
Cell/cell phone/cell number.
Prep (school):
Preparation year.
Privateer:
Someone who finances their own races.
Real Estate:
All-inclusive term meaning real estate agency/property management firm.
Rego:
Registration (general); cost of vehicle licence.
Ricer:
Someone who drives a hotted up four-cylinder (usually imported) car, and makes modifications to make it (and make it look) faster.
Rugby League:
One of the codes of football played in Australia.
S bends (and into the Dipper):
Part of the racetrack shaped into an S shape. On Bathurst track, the Dipper is the biggest of the S bends, so called because there used to be a dip in the road there before track resurfacing made it safer.
Sandwich with the lot:
Sandwich with the works.
Schoolies:
Week-long (or more) celebration for year twelves graduating school. Similar to spring break. The Gold Coast is a popular destination for school leavers from all around the country, and they usually have a number of organised events, including alcohol-free events as a percentage of school leavers are usually under eighteen (the legal drinking age in Australia).
Scrag:
Whore/slut.
Scrutineering:
Process of going over the car and rules to ensure there is no corruption or mistakes.
Shout (referring to drinks or food):
Buy for someone. “Get the tab.”
Silly Season:
Off season in sports. Primarily where most of the trades happen (e.g. driver’s moving teams, sponsorship changes etc).
Skerrick:
Scrap.
Slicks:
A special type of racing tyre with no tread. They’re designed to get the maximum amount of surface on the road at all times. Wet weather tyres have chunky tread to displace the water from the track.
Skulled:
(can also be spelled sculled and skolled) Chugged/Drank everything in the bottle/glass.
Soft Drinks:
Soda/pop.
Stiff Shit:
Tough shit/too bad.
Sunnies:
Sunglasses.
TAFE:
(Technical And Further Education) Trade school
Tassie:
Tasmania (in the same way Aussie = Australia)
Taxi:
Cab.
Thrummed:
Hummed/vibrated.
Titbit:
Tidbit.
Tossers:
Pricks/assholes/jerks.
Tyres:
Tires.
Year Twelve:
Senior.
Wag:
Ditch school.
Wank:
Masturbate
Wankers:
Tossers/Jerk-offs.
Weet-Bix:
Breakfast cereal brand.
Whinge:
Whine/complain.
Uni:
University/college.
CHAPTER ONE: MOVING ON
I PULLED MY car into the cemetery car park and cut off the engine.
With it off, the silence in the car was stifling. I didn’t even need to look at Alyssa to know that her expression would probably match my own.
Sombre.
Today was the day. The day Alyssa and I would move forward with the rest of our life. First though, we had to look to the past.
“Are you ready?” I asked, grasping her hand to ground myself and show her that I was there for her. Neither of us desired to be the first from the car. Even though the keen agony of regret sliced through me, Alyssa’s pain was greater than mine. She’d suffered through the heartbreak firsthand, and I’d only learned of it years later, when it was too late to mourn with her.
Alyssa turned to me, her honey-gold eyes filled with tears, and shook her head. She ran her free hand through the fringe of her mahogany hair. “I don’t even know how to do this, Dec. I—I already said goodbye to him once, I don’t know how to do it again.”
How could we say goodbye knowing it could be months, maybe even as long as a year, before we could come back to visit again?
I held her hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer her some strength even though I had none left to give. Part of me wondered whether it was harder for her having me there. Whether my presence was a sharp reminder of the fact that I wasn’t there when she’d needed me.
Eventually, with a small sigh that echoed her heartbreak, Alyssa turned to me and nodded once.
I climbed from the car. By the time I’d reached the front, she still hadn’t moved.
Realising she needed a figurative push, I opened her door and offered her my hand to help her out of the high vehicle. She practically fell into my arms, so I wrapped them around her as fast as I could. I wondered whether her mind was solely on the cemetery in front of us, or whether part of it was still thinking back over the events of the night before. In the harsh light of day, facing our last visit to our son, I thought back to how stupid I’d been. I’d risked losing Alyssa, risked my happiness and the happiness of my family, for what? Revenge? I was such a fucking tool.
After a moment, Alyssa pulled away from my hold and reached for my hand. The sun beamed brightly in the sky as we weaved our way through the plots to the back, to my family plot and the little angel we sought. Halfway through the cemetery, Alyssa and I dropped each other’s hands. Maybe it was because this goodbye was one we had to face alone, or maybe neither of us had anything left to give.
My feet were on autopilot, remembering the way from my last visit such a short time ago. As it had then, the first thing that captured my eye was the cold white marble cherub. He sat with his head buried in his hands while his white wings extended out from his shoulders. My gaze fell to the horses on the tombstone, the symbol of Castor and Pollux.
Of Gemini.
Of the Twins.
I could almost feel the horses tattooed onto my back come alive, as if granted some magical power from the proximity to their inspiration. I didn’t need to read the inscription on the stone; it had been burned onto my heart the first time I’d seen the grave.
A name:
Emmanuel Pollux Reede Dawson.
Two dates:
11th June
and
14th June.
And an epitaph:
An angel opened the book of life and wrote down my baby’s birth. Then she whispered as she closed the book, “Too beautiful for earth.”
As if she was reciting them again, Alyssa’s words when she’d first told me the story of Castor and Pollux came to mind. Then something she’d admitted to me later—that Emmanuel had been a replica of me. I wondered whether he’d have grown to have my turquoise eyes, like Phoebe, or if they would have darkened to Alyssa’s honey-gold. Would his hair have been the same auburn as mine, or the richer brown of his mother?
I sensed rather than felt Alyssa by my side. The distance between us was gaping, but I wasn’t ready to attempt to bridge it yet. Neither of us were, it seemed. We both needed time alone to process, to think. It occurred to me that at least this visit wouldn’t be like my last.
Then, I’d felt nothing but desolation and destruction, tearing at me from inside and with no way to return from the agony. Just like then, an apology was seared across my soul and an agony keener than any other in my life twisted through my body. This time, though, I had something I didn’t have before. Hope and love tangled with the pain, protecting me from the worst sting of the barbs.
Alyssa’s hand curled against mine. She clutched to me so tightly her knuckles turned white. I traced my thumb along the back of her hand in response. She took a deep breath and swallowed around the lump in her throat. When I glanced at her, I could see her lips moving. She was talking silently to our son. When I saw her mouth form the word, “Daddy,” I closed my eyes as my tears pooled in them.
We stood hand in hand for at least an hour before the wind shifted and it grew cold. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, but neither of us was willing to move. It was as if there was a cosmic signal we were waiting for, something to tell us the time was right to say goodbye, even though we knew it would never be the right time.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” I whispered. Even I wasn’t sure whether the words were intended for Alyssa or Emmanuel. Possibly they were meant for both of them.
Alyssa nodded as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. She stepped forward out of my grasp and dropped to her knees in front of the cherub. Reaching out her hand, she placed something against the marble base. I hadn’t even realised she’d brought anything with her.
Once she’d left her gift, she stood and slipped her hand over one of the cherub’s hands, cupping his face. Then, without another word, she walked back to my side. I couldn’t see past her to see what she had left, but even if I could have, I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to invade the moment she’d shared as she said goodbye. She turned when she reached me, grabbing my hand and wordlessly leading me from the graveside.
I followed her, allowing her to guide me away, because I wasn’t sure my feet would trail the path away from our son without her help. I resisted glancing backward for as long as I could, but finally, I couldn’t help myself. I flicked my head around and saw a small toy car resting in front of the little angel. I almost choked at the image of Sinclair Racing’s colours. It was a promotional item from last year—a die-cast model of my car.
“I wanted to leave something of each of us with him, so he knew we weren’t abandoning him,” Alyssa said softly when I turned back toward her.
I nodded, embarrassed that she’d caught me looking. I wondered what she had left of herself, and of Phoebe, but couldn’t ask. What I had seen was already an intrusion of what I was certain was supposed to be a private goodbye.
We remained silent as we headed back to the car. For me, I was partly lost back at Emmanuel’s grave and partly preparing myself for the journey ahead.
“Do you think we should have brought Phoebe?” I asked. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask until that moment. As far as I knew, she was still working on the assumption that we would be able to take Emmanuel with us somehow.
Alyssa shook her head. “I needed that. Mum brought her down yesterday and told her what was happening.”
I swallowed down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. Part of me wanted to celebrate the fact that we were just hours away from being on the road to the rest of our lives, but the rest was still at Emmanuel’s graveside.
Alyssa gave my hand a gentle squeeze of encouragement. “Let’s go get Phoebe and load up the trailer.”
As I started the car, I nodded. It was the reminder that as hard as the goodbye had been, it wasn’t the only one we needed to face in the next few hours.
By the time I pulled up in front of Alyssa’s parents’ house, my stomach was in knots. She’d want to spend as long as she could saying goodbye. I just wanted to grab the last of her shit and go. Her dad, Curtis, was still not my biggest fan. He’d seemed to begrudgingly accept that we were together, and that Alyssa wanted to marry me, but it hadn’t made him any less cold toward me. I had no hope that we’d ever get back to the relationship we’d once shared.
Alyssa went into the house while I hitched up the trailer. Just as I was debating whether I could maybe just wait in the car, Phoebe came to their screen door and waved at me. An easy smile lifted my lips at the sight as I walked straight to her.
“Hey, princess,” I said after I’d opened the door and scooped her into my arms. “Are you ready to move into your castle?”
She nodded before snuggling against my chest.
I took a moment to draw her into a hug. “It might take a couple of days to get there, we’ll have to see.”
“Nana said. No planes.”
I chuckled. “Nope. No planes. Not this time.”
“We’re in the kitchen, Dec,” Alyssa called to me.
Drawing in a bracing breath, I followed the sound. Alyssa sat at the table. Her mother, Ruth, sat next to her, but Curtis stood at the bench, shooting daggers at me with his eyes.
“I made some food,” Ruth said, waving to Curtis in a clear instruction to give her what he had. With a sigh, I sat on Alyssa’s other side. Curtis dropped the platter of fruit and cheese on the table before sitting down at the table with his arms crossed.
It was clear the two women had obviously planned this awkwardness masquerading as a goodbye in advance, no doubt trying to make things better between us, but it was never going to work so long as Curtis had the bee in his bonnet about me.
To break the silence, Ruth asked Alyssa something about Josh and Ruby, and my heart plummeted. I twisted my mouth into the best smile I could offer, which wasn’t much, and hissed through my teeth at Alyssa, “Don’t tell me Josh’s coming too?” That would be just what I needed.
She shook her head and I sighed with relief. Then she ruined the moment. “We’ve got to drop in and say goodbye to them on our way out.”
Even though I turned to argue with her, one look at her earnest, pleading expression left me unable to. How could I deny her the opportunity to say goodbye to her brother before tearing her from his life? I closed my eyes and asked a question I knew I was sure to regret later: “Did you want to go to Flynn’s too?”
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine and, with the ghost of a smile on her lips, she nodded. “Only if you don’t mind.”
I bit back on the jealousy and the accompanying bile that rose in my throat, reminding myself of all the reasons I shouldn’t be jealous. That Alyssa and I had lodged the forms to amend the birth certificates already, and had received confirmation the new certificates were on their way. He’d soon have no claim on my daughter. I reminded myself that he was gay and not interested in Alyssa as anything more than a friend. Finally, I forced myself to recall the generous offer he’d made on Alyssa’s little four-cylinder car.
Covering the swell of emotions with a widened—but fake—smile, I shook my head to let her know I didn’t mind. Having to deal with Curtis and Josh had already put a damper on the day, so it would be easier to get all the fucked-up shit over with at once. If that meant fake-smiling my way through a shitload of awkward meetings for Alyssa’s and Phoebe’s sakes, so be it.
Ruth seemed to sense the unease around the table and rose to her feet. “Declan, I want a quick word with you please . . . alone?”
With a nod, I stood. Once I had, I dipped to press a few small kisses onto Alyssa’s cheek, partly because I wanted to remind her that I loved her, but mostly to rub Curtis’s face in the fact that she’d chosen me.
I followed Ruth into the room we’d been staying in. Everything we’d been using temporarily was packed into the back of the Prado, so it was back to looking like Alyssa’s old bedroom—except without the personality of her photos and mementos. After glancing around the room, I looked down at Ruth and saw the tears on her face.
“Hey, now, what’s up?” I asked, as softly as I could. I reminded myself that regardless of how Curtis reacted to me and Alyssa being together, Ruth had been in my corner. She at least was happy about my reunion with Alyssa.
“It’s just sinking in that she’s really going. I won’t be able to just pop in to see her anymore.”
“Sydney’s not that far away, and there’s always Skype, and phone calls,” I said, trying to cheer her up a little. “And emails.”
“You’ll look after them, won’t you?” She looked at me pleadingly.
“With my life.” Every word was sincere. I wouldn’t let anything hurt either of my girls. I’d made enough mistakes where both of them were concerned.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
She pulled me down to her, wrapping her arms tightly around me. In that moment, she was a mother saying goodbye to her son. For me, it was the goodbye I hadn’t been able to say to my own mother.
“Ruth?” I asked, my voice soft and filled with the emotions roiling inside me.
“What is it, sweetie?” she asked.
“When Mum comes back, can you make sure that she’s not alone?” I couldn’t bear the thought of Mum returning to her old life since she’d been freed from my cheating fucking bastard of a father. I didn’t want to think of her going back to him, or worse sitting around an empty house consumed by her loneliness.