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“Have you heard from Seb,” I ask.
“Nah, not since earlier when I let him know what had happened. He’s radio silent, and Jamie too. Do you think we should be worried?”
“No, not yet. I’ll call you in a bit and drive safely.” He chuckles before saying goodbye.
When I get off the phone, Roxy is on hers. Whilst she’s distracted, I beckon Jay, and we leave the cafe and head back towards the car.
“What’s going on?”
“Someone got to Travis inside, and I’m not sitting around waiting any longer. I’m going to get my son and Jess back.”
“The fuck you are, Sullivan,” Roxy calls out behind me, jogging to catch us up.
I stop and turn to face her. “For whatever reason, Collins is using my son to get to me, so if he wants me, then why not give him what he wants. I’m not breaking the law turning up unannounced at his house. You do what you need to, Roxy, and I’ll do what I need to. Simple.” I continue towards the car, reaching it as my phone rings again.
I hold Roxy’s irritated gaze as I bring it to my ear. “Hello,” I snap.
“Daddy.”
Forty
Jess
I’ve been pacing for the last thirty minutes. I’ve literally chewed every fingernail and bitten my lip so many times and so hard, I made it bleed.
The door opens behind me, but I don’t look. I know who it is. Her cloying floral perfume permeates the air like a fucking toxic gas.
“Jessica, darling.” I hear her heels brush against the long pile carpet as she crosses the room. Her hand touches my shoulder, and I spin, snatching her wrist.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch me. Don’t you dare ‘darling’ me.” Her eyes widen in shock at my words and the anger that’s impossible to hide. “What kind of mother are you?” I shove her away from me, and she stumbles back.
“You don’t understand, Jessica. You don’t know everything. I was trying to help, but your father—”
“My father? That man isn’t my father. He isn’t any type of father, except the worst fucking kind. And you, a mother? It’s laughable.” I walk toward the window, which overlooks a field. In the distance, I see cars racing along the motorway. The drivers cocooned in their own little world and most of them are oblivious to the dark world we live in. That we play but a tiny part in and never truly know the dangers of. Most of them will never be touched by the evil that walks among us like some ghostly spirit, and whose touch infects even the purest of us when it comes.
That’s what I used to think about my mother. Then I got older and wiser, such a cliche but so true. They say that children see more than adults, and they do in some ways, but I don’t think that’s true when it comes to parents. We don’t see their faults, or maybe we do, but we’re designed to overlook them. Trusting that they are our guides, teachers and role models. But there inevitably comes a point where, as you age, you see past the facade of parenthood to the real them beneath. And sometimes, it really isn’t pretty.
When I was raped, my mother stood by and allowed my father to make me feel ashamed, disgusting, to debase me, like I deserved it, and I felt worthless for a long time. That’s the moment the veil was torn from my eyes, and I saw the true nature of my parents.
“Jessica, please listen to me.”
“I don’t want anything to do with either of you ever again. You’re both dead to me.” I keep my back to her, not able to look at her, but I hear her gasp at my harsh words. A solitary tear slides down my cheek, and it will be the only one I shed for this woman.
I hear a sniff and something being dropped to the bed as the sheets crinkle in the silent room, then the door closes as she leaves.
As soon as that click sounds, my heart explodes into a thousand tiny pieces of every lie and every betrayal. My knees collapse beneath me, and I drop to the floor, allowing myself this one moment of weakness. There are no tears, just pain and a need to catch my breath before I get to my feet.
My moment over, I pick myself up and walk to the bed to see what she dropped there.
A phone and a USB stick.
A tiny little piece of me feels a pang of remorse when I pick the phone up and see what’s on it. It seems Gigi, or the part that was the mother I remember as a child, does have some good left inside her.
I find a small second pocket, if you can call it that, on one side of my shorts and shove the USB stick in there, then make a call.
Another long thirtyminutes has passed since I made the call, and when my door opens for the second time to reveal Gigi, I actually feel relief. It’s not at her but for the little boy she bundles into the room with her.
As soon as he sees me, Max runs and dives into my arms, squeezing me tight.
