Stan (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Stan

Oh Christ!

Anything but
tears.

My efforts to stay
mad at Bel teetered on the edge of non-existent when there she was, sprawled on
the bathroom floor, hiding her face and crying.

My resolve melted
in an instant as I looked back to the doorway, seeing Max shift with unease and
Sean grimace and shrug.

“Okay, show’s
over,” I announced, stepping to the door.

“Is she going to
be all right?” asked Max.

“Yeah, just give
us a minute, yeah, and we’ll be out of your way.”

“You don’t have to
move her, she can just crash here for the night, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Max meant well. He
meant well the moment he had knocked on my door to tell me Bel was sick. It was
the only thing that had stopped me from wanting to punch him fair in his
handsome face, a journey I was just about to make until he darkened my door.
His offer of looking after her felt like someone had stuck a hot knife in my
gut and twisted it.

Yeah. I don’t
bloody think so.

“Thanks, but she’s
my responsibility, so I’ll take care of it,” I said, dismissing his offer.

“Sean, mate, you
can head back, but don’t tell the others she’s sick from the grog, okay? She’s
just sick.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll
tell them it’s a highly contagious forty-eight hour bug that’s going around.
They’ll be out of your hair by the time you get back.” Sean smirked.

“Thanks, mate.”

“You sure you don’t
need a hand?” Sean’s eyes looked past me to the sobbing bundle on the floor,
who had now turned away from us.

I sighed. “Nah, it’ll
be right.”

I closed the
bathroom door, turning to see the little bundle, crumbled on the floor. My
heart ached.

How could I
stay mad at her?

I crouched down
beside her. “Bel, don’t cry. Come on,” I said, softly rubbing her on the back. “Come
on, let’s go home.”

“I feel so stupid,”
she said quietly through the tears, still turned away from me.

“Well, you haven’t
officially been drunk unless you have passed out on the bathroom floor. And don’t
worry. The floor is spotless. I cleaned it myself.”

Bel wiped her
tears. “You did a really good job.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Bel still had her
back to me, and after her little moment of light-heartedness, the crying had
eased, so I reached out, grabbing her shoulder to motion her to look at me. She
slowly, if not reluctantly, did as my hand cupped her hot, tear-stained cheek; her
watery, bloodshot eyes looked up at me. I rubbed tears away from her cheek with
my thumb, gently rubbing the salty streaks away.

“You shouldn’t
touch me like that,” she whispered.

My brows narrowed,
confusion flickering through my amusement. “Why not?”

She wrapped her
tiny hand around my wrist, pulling my hand away. “Because,” she said, moving to
grab onto the vanity. Bel hitched herself to stand so quickly, she swayed.

“Whoa. Head spin.”
She blinked, clasping on the edge of the sink.

“Yeah, careful,” I
said, steadying her with my hand.

I didn’t know if
it was a matter of her making up her mind to finally get a move on, or she just
wanted to distance herself away from me touching her. Her irrational actions
toward me today bothered me, really bothered me. Maybe she had a thing for Max
and I was just an annoying person in her way. That made sense, so I let my hand
drop from her lower back.

“Here,” I said,
turning on the cold tap. “Wash your face and get yourself together, I’ll walk
you back,” I said coolly, leaving Bel to her own devices. Her eyes widened in
surprise, I could see that much in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Her
hair was dishevelled, her skin pale and her eyes red. And even though she
looked like a hot mess, she was still so heart-stopping beautiful in her
vulnerability, it took every ounce of strength to leave her side and make my
way into the main room to wait for her, shutting the door behind me.

Max sat perched on
the edge of the sofa, but he stood as soon as I entered the room.

“She okay?” he
asked, genuine in his concern. I’ll give him that.

“Yeah, she’ll be
right. Just can’t hold her beer.” My eyes shifted to the impressive collection
of bottles on the sink. “And there was certainly enough of it.”

“Over half of
those are mine, and it’s only light.”

“Which is enough
to make anyone sick.”

Max smiled
reluctantly at my dig. “Hey, mate, I’m sorry. If you want me to leave just say
so and I’ll pack up.”

My head snapped
around to study Max’s serious face. “Why would I want you to leave?”

Aside from wanting
to beat the living shit out of him the moment I found out where Bel had been, I
soon realised he had been acting protectively, that the only crime here was a
man drinking a light beer and a foolish girl who couldn’t handle her grog.

“Well, just with
the way everything went down tonight.”

“No one died; you
pay your rent on time, be a law-abiding citizen, and you can stay for as long
as you need. But as far as any future damsels in distress go—”

Max held up his
hands. “Hey, I’m locking my door from here on in.”

“Good idea.” I
nodded, turning to the sound of a sheepish-looking Bel skimming through the
bathroom door.

“How you feeling?”
Max beat me to the question.

Bel rubbed her
upper arms as if to ward off an imaginary chill, her steps were still a little
on the crooked side, so I was glad I was there to help her back to the house—where
I wanted to lock her in for the rest of the bloody weekend.

“Not gonna lie. I
don’t feel crash hot,” she croaked, a small coy smile lifting her mouth. The
smallest of movement of her mouth had my heart spiking in approval. I turned
away, shutting down the whimsical emotion.

“Well, nothing a
good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

“Thanks, Max,” Bel
replied sweetly. A moment of bonded kindness exchanged between them.

“Anytime.”

So much for
locking your bloody door.

“All right, let’s
go!” I announced.

I all but wanted
to frogmarch Bel out of there but remembered she was pretty shaky on her legs
as she gingerly made her way out the door. I waited at the stairs, offering my hand
to her, ready to help her down, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she chose the
banister to help guide herself down.

Fine.

I clenched my jaw,
throwing a dark look toward Max who was standing in the doorway watching on.

“Night, Max,” I
said coolly.

He nodded his
head, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.

Bel was a few
steps in front of me now, moving like an old woman.

“Bel, wait.”

She didn’t, but it
only took a few strides to catch up with her. I grabbed a hold of her arm.

“Let go, I’m not a
bloody child.” She ripped her arm away from my grasp.

“Yeah, well, you
could have fooled me,” I said, plunging my hands deep into my pockets and
storming ahead of her.

As I rounded the
corner, I felt relieved Sean had made good on his plan, and Ellie and Ringer
were gone. Even Sean’s car was nowhere to be seen. The porch lights flooding
the drive made the white piece of paper pinned to the front door clearly
visible. I skipped every second step up to meet it, then yanked it from the
tape and moved to read it under the main light.

Stan,

I like her. I like
her style.

I think you have
your hands full there, mate, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

Will call in
tomorrow. Still have to have a yarn about those life-changing plans, so hurry
up and sort out your love life, Romeo.

Sean

I shook my head,
scrunching up the note and pocketing it, making my way back down the steps to
sit and wait for a darkened figure to appear into the light, like some scene
out of a Michael Jackson film clip. But when the figure didn’t emerge I looked
at my watch for the hundredth time, my leg jigging impatiently. My mood shifted
into something else entirely and as time stretched on and Bel was nowhere to be
seen, I cursed under my breath. Stepping up onto the verandah, I unlocked the
office door, reaching in to grab the torch I kept handy by the phone. Slamming
and locking the door, I descended the steps heading into the night with a new
determination.

She is going to
be the bloody death of me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Bel

The night air
was actually serving me well.

My nausea was long
gone and my head began to clear as I slowly but surely put distance between the
main house and myself. Oh, how I longed to collapse onto the familiar,
deliciously soft mattress in my parents’ van, wrap myself into a cocoon, and
sleep for forty-eight hours straight or until my mum and dad and my annoying
little brother came slamming back into my life. I was a way off but I plunged
my hand into my short jean pocket for the key to van, only to come across
something else. I stilled, smiling as I pulled out two mints, saved from early
in the day.

I laughed out
loud, delighted at something so simple, so bloody welcome. I had rinsed my
mouth out a thousand times at Max’s, but this was what I desperately needed, so
I popped the mints in my mouth. Crunching the super-hot mints into chewy gum, I
breathed through the discomfort of them as they pulverised any possible stale
beer tang from my mouth.

I walked on,
locating my key in the other pocket with a sigh of relief, a relief short-lived
as an illuminated flash lit before me. A beam flickered from behind my
shoulder. I quickly spun around; at a guess I suspected who it might be, but I
had to be sure. The light shone deliberately in my eyes; I held up my hand,
annoyed, and blocked the offending beam. Footsteps crunched closer and as the
silhouette neared, so did the torch until it finally lowered and a familiar
voice pierced the dark.

“When I said let’s
go home, I meant my home.” Stan’s voice sounded stern. I couldn’t see the lines
of his face but judging by the tone of his voice he was annoyed.

I shrugged. “I
know.”

“You know? Then
why are you—”

“Look. I just want
to call it a night, it’s been a long day.”

“Well, you’re
going the wrong way.”

I sighed, tired
from his ‘my way or the highway’ routine.

“I will tell your
parents you were the prefect host and that I crashed at your place, all good. I’ll
get my things tomorrow and no one will know.”

“Yeah, that’s a
neat plan, but considering they’ll be back tomorrow morning I don’t think that
is going to work somehow.”

“Tomorrow? But I
thought they were coming back Monday?”

Stan shrugged. “Dad
called this arvo, said they were heading back early.”

I should have been
happy, I should have rejoiced and thanked my lucky stars my house arrest was
over, that I had avoided the cleaning of the toilets, and that I didn’t have to
spend another moment with Stan beyond tomorrow. Then why did I feel my heart
sink? The thought of being near Stan being over made me feel so … empty.

I lifted my chin. “I’m
still not heading back with you.”

Stan ran his hand
through his hair, cursing under his breath in despair. “Why do you have to be
so bloody stubborn? It’s not like I have asked much of you this weekend, or
made your life like a living hell like I probably should have.”

Ha! If only he
knew that being near him was my idea of hell.

“What do you want?
A freakin’ medal for being a decent human being? Just because everyone thinks
you’re ‘Stan the Man’ doesn’t mean I have to bow down to you.”

Stan scoffed. “You
need to sober up, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah? And how
are you going to do that? Force feed me cold pizza and torture me with your
music selection?”

“No, I can think
of a better way,” Stan said, an evil smirk lining his lips as he kicked the
dirt.

My brows lowered
in confusion, until I followed his cheeky glance to the left. There it was,
illuminated by a bug-infested spotlight and surrounded by wire fencing, the hum
of the filter circling a beach ball on the water’s surface. My eyes widened, my
heart started to race.

Surely he
wouldn’t.

And just as I
glanced back to meet Stan’s eyes, I knew in an instant my answer, and it took a
mere second for my instincts to kick in.

RUN.

I could have
bolted into the night, down the track toward the winding rocky dirt maybe
cutting through the bushes and stumbling into no-man’s land. Instead I acted
swiftly, heading toward the very direction Stan planned to be my undoing. I
darted straight into the pool yard, sprinting toward the other side to dart
through the other gate, the gate I had dived through a thousand times before to
escape my brothers, the one that led out onto the open expansive grass area
that would have me clear and home free. The gate that was no longer there?

“What the hell?”

“Ah, yes, about
that.”

Stan was hunched
over on the other side of the pool, catching his breath. “There’s no gate there
anymore.” He smiled.

“So I see,” I
breathed, edging away from the fence, sidestepping in the opposite direction
that Stan followed. I was trapped like a rat. “How things change.”

Stan shrugged. “Kids
were using it as a shortcut to run through, it was dangerous.”

“And we all know
how you feel about running around the pool,” I scoffed.

“I think I am
willing to make an exception,” he said, shutting the gate behind him, clicking
it so loud it made me blink.

My only way
out.

“Well, this is
going to be a long night then,” I said, crossing my arms defiantly across my
chest.

“Oh, not really; I
can sprint the hundred in under ten seconds.”

Awesome.

“The things you
don’t know about someone.”

“Indeed.”

It was now a
battle of wills, a standoff. He watched me, I watched him. Waiting, ready to pounce.
There was only one way out and he was standing in front of it. I could fake to
the left and then run to the right but it would only take a second for him to
pre-empt that. Either way it was not going to end well; I could see it in the
way Stan’s eyes glimmered with wicked intent, he was loving this.

He was finally
getting to torture me like he had probably wished he should have all along. I
knew it was just a matter a time when he would make his move, and we both knew
running was futile. So I did the only logical thing I could do to gain back
some resemblance of power. Without tearing my eyes away from his, I slowly
slipped off my Converse shoes and stepped forward, my bare feet stepping onto
the edge of the pool.

Stan uncrossed his
arms, straightening as he looked at me with a guarded interest.

I squared my
shoulders and took a deep breath as I looked directly at him and smiled.

“Fuck you,
Stan-LEY.”

And then I jumped.