Hooker (28 page)

Even though I only live in an apartment, it’s very spacious and occupies the entire tenth floor. My lounge area and dining room are open plan, with the living space on the right and dining on the left. Through the archway is a large kitchen, and there’s a long hall that leads to the bedrooms and bathroom. I’ve converted one of my spare rooms into a large walk-in wardrobe, which I adore. The other remains empty—I’ve never had anyone stay. Before Brock came along, I was a loner, which was the way I liked it. My time was my own. When I was here, nobody could tell me what to do.

I let out a huge sigh of relief when I reach my bedroom. I’m grateful it’s the way I left it. I love my room, it’s my favourite part of the house—my sanctuary. The first thing I do when I enter is head towards the windows to open my blinds and let the light in. The room is all white. My bed, my furniture, the linen, even the walls—everything. I have a number of candles placed throughout as well. Taking a deep breath, calmness settles over me. That’s what this space does for me. I look down at the view of Sydney Harbour below.

After returning from being with my clients I would crave the purity of this space, because pure was the opposite of how I felt. No matter how many times I scrubbed myself in the shower, it was impossible to get that dirty, disgusting feeling
off my skin. Brock’s the only person who has managed to remove the sins of my past.

My bedroom is the only real place I’ve ever felt comfortable and I truly love it here. But I know I can’t stay. Once things settle down, I’ll have to find somewhere safer to live. Somewhere where M won’t find me. Disappointment about leaving my sanctuary weighs heavily on me.

I sit on the edge of my bed as my thoughts turn back to Brock. I hate to think of what he’s going through right now. I know his relationship with Maxwell wasn’t great. Nevertheless, he was still Brock’s father.

I contemplate calling him as I unravel the bandages on my wrists. I just need to know he’s okay. My heart is aching for not only him, but for Joshua and their mother. My hands slightly shake as I pick up the phone and dial Brock’s number. I’m not sure why I’m nervous, but I am.

‘You’ve reached Brock Weston. Please leave your details and I’ll get back to you.’ Hearing his sexy, confident voice in the recorded message sends my heart into a flutter, despite my disappointment. It’s only been a day, but I miss him.

‘Hi Brock, it’s Jade. I just wanted to say again, I’m sorry about your father. I’ve been discharged from the hospital and I’m heading to Theo’s house. I just thought you may want to know. I’m here if you need anything. Take care of yourself.’ I clutch my phone to my chest and fight back the tears when I end the call.

Please let us be okay
.

JADE

A
week has passed and there’s still no word from Brock. Nothing. With every day that goes by my concern not only for him, but for us, escalates. I’ve spoken with Joshua—he came to Theo’s to touch base and make sure I was doing okay. When I asked him how Brock was, his reply was ‘not good’. To my disappointment, he didn’t elaborate. I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask, but for some reason words failed me.

When he was leaving, he wrapped me in his arms and kissed my forehead, just like Brock used to. Tears stung my eyes. ‘Give him time,’ he whispered, before letting me go. If those words were meant to soothe me, they didn’t. They only served to worry me more.

I’ve been spending the majority of my days at the hospital with Rupert. He’s improving every day, which brings some light into my darkness. We don’t speak about Brock. Rupert knows me well, so I’m sure he can sense that there’s trouble in paradise. The fact that I’m being dropped off and picked up by Theo every day would tell him everything.

When Theo’s home, he does his best to keep me occupied. I’m grateful for that. For the most part it works, but Brock
is always on my mind. It’s been hard. I’m fighting to stay strong, and not let it bring me down. Some days are better than others, but there are times when I feel like I can’t breathe without him, and I hate that. This is why I don’t usually allow myself to get close to people.

It’s the nights I’m struggling with most. I haven’t been sleeping well. I feel like a part of me is missing without him. I’ve drafted countless messages, but haven’t had the guts to send any of them. I don’t want to appear needy or desperate, because I’m not. I’m used to rejection so this should be nothing new. This hurts more than all the other times combined. I honestly thought he meant it when he said he loved me. I understand he’s going through a hard time, but his desire to have no contact with me during this difficult time is hard to digest.

I’m lost without him.

Tomorrow is Maxwell Weston’s funeral. Theo is going, but I’m not sure if I can. I’d feel like a hypocrite attending the funeral of a man I hate. On the other hand, I’m desperate to see Brock, even if it’s just from distance. I have to do something to ease my mind and see firsthand how he’s really doing. Sometimes we need to put our own feelings aside to help the people we love. He’s given me so much. If I can return the favour in any way, I will.

*

‘You’re coming?’ Theo asks, when I enter the kitchen the next morning dressed in a black pencil skirt and tailored jacket. I sat up half the night debating whether I should go or not, but my heart won out in the end. I’m doing this for Brock—and no other reason.

‘I
guess,’ I reply, shrugging. Taking the mug from his outstretched hand, I sit at the breakfast bar. ‘I want to be there for Brock.’ I look at the coffee in front of me. Theo probably thinks I’m pathetic.

‘Hey,’ he says, placing his fingers under my chin and tilting my face up. ‘You’re a better person than I am. You’re a fucking saint, Jade. Brock’s a damn fool if he doesn’t see that.’

I know his words are meant to comfort me, but they seem to have the opposite effect. A sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach, because it’s the first time he’s mentioned Brock in days. Does he think we’re over too? My head has been telling me Brock and I are through, but my heart still refuses to believe it. I guess today will give me the answers I’m seeking.

I’m on the verge of throwing up when we arrive at the cemetery. The family have opted for a graveside service. It’s fitting, I suppose. What little I know about Maxwell Weston tells me he wasn’t a religious man. I’m pretty sure he’s earnt himself a one-way ticket to hell, along with M. There’ll be no pearly gates for either of them.

‘You’re shaking,’ Theo says when he reaches for my hand across the centre console. Everything in me is screaming not to get out of this car, but I do. I’ve faced worse in my life, and my need to see Brock is too strong.

Theo comes to a stop in front of me as we walk around the front of the car. ‘Are you sure you want to be here, babycakes?’

‘It’s ironic I’m here to pay my last respects to a man I have absolutely no respect for,’ I reply with sarcasm in my voice. ‘Despite everything, Theo, both Brock and Joshua have been wonderful to me, so I want to be here for them.’

‘You’re
amazing. This is exactly why I love you.’ He places a chaste kiss on my forehead. ‘If at any time it feels too much, just say the word and we’re gone.’

‘Thanks, Theo. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.’

‘It’s been no hardship, Jade, I love being around you. You’re not only the best fake girlfriend a gay guy could ask for, you’re the dearest friend I have.’

‘I adore you too,’ I say as my hands snake around his waist and my head rests on his chest. It doesn’t escape me that he just told me he loved me, and again I couldn’t say the words back. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I tell the people I care about that I love them? Brock has expressed his true feelings towards me, yet I’ve never once told him I reciprocated them. Now I’m afraid I’ll never get the chance to tell him how I really feel about him.

Theo’s hand is firmly clasped around mine as we walk across the grassed area towards the people milling by the freshly dug grave. This is the first funeral I’ve ever attended and I’m grateful when he comes to a stop at the back of the crowd. I’m happy to stay here; it’s not like either of us were close with this man. I’m not sure if Theo even met him when he was alive.

My chest tightens and my breath hitches the moment I see Brock. He looks awful. Well, not awful—this is Brock Weston we’re talking about, it would be almost impossible for him to look awful. What I should’ve said is he looks tired, and kinda lost. I can see the black rings under his eyes from here. He looks like he hasn’t shaven or slept in days. The sight of him tears at my heart.

He’s staring at the coffin in front of him. His face is totally void of any emotion. I just want to run over there and wrap
him in my arms. My gaze eventually moves to his mother, who is seated beside him. Her head is bowed as she wipes a tear from her eye. I notice Brock’s hand is tightly gripped around hers. Joshua is sitting on the other side of her, his hand placed on her knee for comfort. I’m glad she has her boys looking after her.

When my eyes meet Joshua’s, I’m surprised to see him looking straight at me. I give him a weak smile when he nods his head. I watch as he leans slightly across Elaine to whisper something to his brother.

Brock’s head snaps up and his eyes scan the mourners until finally stopping on me. I have to fight back the tears when I see him sigh before the corner of his mouth turns up slightly. Unfortunately, it’s gone as quickly as it appears, and the solemn look returns to his face. Is he happy I’m here? I hope so.

All the air seems to leave me when a woman places her hand on Brock’s shoulder.
Clarissa
. There’s a smug, satisfied look on her bitchy face that has me wanting to slap her. Why does this woman bring out the worst in me? Is this why I haven’t seen or heard from Brock? Has he been seeking comfort from her?

I stare at the grass by my feet. Regardless of my misconceived notions, coming here today was a mistake. I feel Theo’s arm slide around my waist as he pulls me protectively into his side. I guess he just witnessed the same thing I did.

Eventually, things get underway. Nothing the priest says registers. My mind is in a complete haze. On the few occasions I involuntarily look at Brock, I’m surprised to find his eyes firmly fixed on me. His expression is still empty, so I’m finding it hard to judge what he’s thinking. Clarissa’s perfectly manicured yet grubby little hand hasn’t left his
shoulder. I know I shouldn’t let her get to me, but she does. A lot. I don’t want her or her hands anywhere near Brock.

Once the coffin has been lowered, the priest invites the family to place dirt into the hole. Brock helps his mother to her feet. My eyes shamelessly rake over his tall, lean body in his tailor-made black suit.

Elaine goes first, followed by Joshua. I concentrate on Brock as he squats down, sprinkling the dirt onto the casket. Tears fill my eyes when I see him mouth the word ‘sorry’, as he looks into the hole. I have no idea why he’d feel the need to say that. Maybe he’s having regrets about the tumultuous relationship he had with his father. It pains me to think he’s suffering.

I’m rooted to the spot as the guests begin to offer their condolences to the family. I don’t want to go over there. I’m scared. But this might be the last time I ever get to be near Brock, so my legs are moving in that direction before my brain even realises what’s happening.

I reach Joshua first. His arms encircle my waist as he squeezes me tight. ‘You’re the last person I expected to see here today, but I’m so thankful you came.’

‘I needed to see Brock,’ I confess.

‘He may not show it, but I know he’s grateful you came.’

Giving Joshua a brief smile, I go to his mother. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs Weston.’

‘Thank you, Jade. It’s lovely to see you again.’

‘It’s lovely to see you as well, I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.’

‘Thank you. Please consider coming back to the house for some refreshments. I’d love to catch up with you,’ she says, giving me an affectionate hug. I get the impression she
knows nothing about what went on between her husband and me. Nevertheless, I smile and thank her for her offer before stepping away.

Butterflies dance in my stomach as I approach Brock. The moment his eyes lock with mine, I see his face soften and a small smile play on his lips. Hope surges in my heart. Reaching for his hand, I give it a squeeze. The contact is brief, but it sends tingles up my arm. ‘I’m sorry about your father,’ I say quietly.

He stares at me for the longest time before replying. ‘Thank you.’ I hear his voice slightly crack as he speaks, and it tugs at my heart. I desperately want to pull him into my arms, but before I get a chance, he takes a step back. My shoulders slump and my heart shatters when he turns away from me, exhaling a large breath and fisting his hands in his hair. That small gesture tells me everything I need to know.

We’re over
.

Turning, I walk hastily towards Theo’s car. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

‘Hey, wait up,’ Theo calls out, jogging to catch up to me. ‘What’s the big rush?’ Grabbing my elbow, he pulls me to a stop. ‘Jade.’ When my watery eyes meet his, I see his face drop before he pulls me into his arms. ‘Jesus, what happened?’

‘Please just get me out of here,’ I beg. I’m grateful when he ushers me towards the car. ‘Can you please take me to my apartment?’

‘Why? What’s happened?’

‘Nothing,’ I say, turning my face away. ‘I just want to go back to my old life and forget everything.’

My life of loneliness and solitude.

BROCK

I
feel like a prick, an absolute lowlife, for doing what I just did to Jade, but I panicked. I haven’t shed a tear since my father’s death. Not one fucking drop. The moment I saw the sympathetic look on her sweet face and felt the tender touch of her soft hand wrapped around mine, it was too much. I had to turn away because I was on the verge of breaking down. Every emotion I experienced this week came bubbling to the surface. This woman will forever be my undoing. I couldn’t let her see me fall apart. I just couldn’t.