Getting Real

“Ah, baby you can’t think like that.”

“I do think like that. How else can I think? I’ve been scared my whole life, Jake and you knew it and I hated you for it.”

He hugged her closer. “It’s okay—it doesn’t matter. We’re past that.” He looked down at her, no longer teary but so vulnerable.

“It’s not okay. It’s why I don’t do relationships. I’m no good at them.” She turned her face up to his, and he kissed her forehead. “Why did you want to leave me?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed about what happened.”

She gasped. “You came for me—you saved me.”

“I…” he stumbled on thoughts too intense, on explanations that were inadequate.

She climbed across his lap. “You knew what to do and you brought me back from that blackness.”

He took her face in his hands. “But I didn’t know where to stop, Rie. And that was loathsome. You weren’t in any position to decide how to react.”

Her green gaze was so tormented. “I need you tonight, Jake. I need you to help me forget.”

He could not refuse her.

They ate a room service meal and watched a movie, staying close by each other and when they went to bed it was with soft, slow kisses and gentle caresses. They came together languidly with infinite tenderness, nothing hurried, nothing frenzied, just softness and immeasurable kindness.

Rielle’s green eyes were the window to her deepest self, her pain, her fear, her determination t

o survive and Jake fixed on them wondering if she’d ever show them to him willingly again. He watched her fall asleep, the expression on her face untroubled for the first time in a week.

Sleep took a long time to come to him that night and when it did he dreamed of screeching tyres and tearing metal, screaming voices, sirens and flashing lights. He woke in the pitch dark, his heart thudding in his ears and knew it to be Rie’s continuing nightmare he was seeing, and marvelled again at how brave his wolf woman was.

Harry drove to Bondi Beach. She planned for a sunset, fish and chips, a bottle of wine, time to wind down, and a chance for Rand to talk. He was quiet in the car, his fists curled in his lap, tension in the line of his jaw, a muscle in his thigh jumping to its own internal beat. He was looking out the passenger-side window, but she figured he wasn’t seeing the passing city and suburbs.

When they’d been chasing after Rielle, he’d been keyed up, hyper-vigilant, sensitive to everything going on around him, and talking rapid fire about nothing important. His mood now was different. It scared her a little. He was a stranger, and she felt that to speak to him would be to intrude.

When she parked, he turned to her and she saw his wet eyes, the tears on his cheeks he made no move to wipe away. Outside of funerals and babies being born, Harry had never seen a man cry before. It made her clench her jaw to see Rand so distressed and to know he wasn’t hiding it from her.

“I could do with a hug,” he said brokenly.

She leant across the gear stick to put her arms around him, tuck his head into her shoulder. He sighed roughly and his fingers bit into her sides as he hugged her hard. They stayed that way a little while until he composed himself.

“I think maybe I was dreading Sydney almost as much as Rie,” he said, shifting back into his seat. “I just didn’t recognise it. She was right to go back, to see it again. Fucking awful piece of road. No wonder there’s a bypass now, but still—” He looked out the front window towards the sea; a flat, peaceful bay, not a white cap in sight. “I’m not sure she’ll ever get over it.” He wiped his hand down his face and turned to Harry. “I shouldn’t have pushed her to come back here. I thought it might help. Might make her see it differently, take the fear out of it.”

Harry reached for his hand and he caught it, wrapping his fingers through hers. “Does Rie believe she caused the accident?”

“Yeah. She was just a kid, but she was wild.” Rand smiled gently. Harry remembered Rie at fourteen, so loud and confident, sure about what she wanted and how to get it even then. “She wanted to quit school and get a job. Mum and Dad said no, of course she couldn’t. They’d had the argument a hundred times before but this time she said she’d leave home and that’s what did it. They both turned around to shout at her.” He paused.

Was he seeing the accident? Harry squeezed his hand.

“I’m the only one who saw the truck.” Rand took a deep breath and cracked the door of the car open, letting in the sharp tang of salt air. “Dad blamed her too. He wasn’t the same with her afterwards and she knew it. Then he got sick and they never reconciled. Made it hard on me, being between the two of them and knowing he was going to die and knowing she blamed herself for that too.”

They sat quietly, Rand’s hand cool in Harry’s despite the heat of the day.

“She can’t forgive herself. She never missed a day of school. She never did anything at less than one hundred percent full speed. She punishes herself every day.”

“But you forgave her. That must count.”

“I love her. If it hadn’t been for Rie, I’d have just drifted. I didn’t want anything bad enough. She just kept kicking my ass til I got with the program. I forgave her. It could just have easily been me that caused it, or Dad or the semi driver. We’ll never know for sure.”

“I can’t imagine you drifting. I can’t imagine you that way.”