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Later that morning, Allee stormed back into her town house, slamming her keys on the bench.
“Nothing? They can do nothing? Why the hell did we even bother? What will I have to go through before they take action?”
Fear, frustration, and fury boiled inside her. They had gone to the local police station as soon as it was open to try and get them to track down Stuart and arrest him. However, as the phone number had come up as Unknown, nor had she seen him physically, Allee had no proof that Stuart sent the messages. Even the break-in at her town house had yielded no physical evidence; apparently, Stuart had worn gloves, so there were no fingerprints.
With nowhere else to go, Allee’s emotions cascaded out of her in a torrent of tears. Noah tugged her gently into his arms, murmuring softly into her hair as one hand grasped the back of her neck, the other stroking up and down her spine.
“This isn’t over though, there are things we can do.”
“The cops can’t do a damn thing without proof, and where are we gonna find that?”
“Sweetheart, I promise you, we have options. Not necessarily options that the cops would approve of, but options nonetheless. Let me give the guys a call, see if we can all get together and brainstorm this. You aren’t alone; we have your back. I have your back.”
Allee shuddered and nodded, her hands shakily wiping the tears from her face. She took a deep, calming breath, and then another. And another. By the fifth breath, she started to feel calmer, and by the tenth, she was back together and composed.
“Okay, so, what now?”
“Have we ever told you about a couple of the moderators in our forums, and what they can do?”
“No…?”
“Well, let me just say this; if you have ever done anything, shared anything, spread anything online? Even if you’ve deleted it, these guys can find it. Fuck, they could probably find Harold Holt or Jimmy Hoffa if they really set their minds to it. These guys love to ferret out dirty little secrets, and what’s the bet that fuck-knuckle has a mountain of them.”
“Fuck-knuckle?”
“Yep. Perfect way to describe that ex of yours. He doesn’t deserve any other name in your mind.”
Allee smiled wryly at the thought of calling Stuart that name, even if only in her head. He would despise her lack of respect. If she called him that, she showed she was more than what he thought. That her life was hers and not his to dictate. She felt a stirring of new power inside.
“Fuck-knuckle it is!”
When they arrived in Daisy Hill, Darryl embraced Allee in a warm, brotherly hug, soothing her with his deep voice.
“You are safe; you have friends here,” said Darryl, “and we won’t let that pathetic excuse for a human being get to you. Tania knows a couple of guys who would just love to take him out past Wellington Point or Redland Bay for some fishing. After all, there are bull-sharks out there, and they don’t leave much behind.” Tania had then grabbed Allee, dragged her into a tight hug.
“Fuck that arsehole,” said Tania. “You’re better off without him, and he knows it! We won’t let him get to you hun, as Darryl says, I know some guys!”
Noah had to pry Allee out of Tania’s arms while laughing, Allee smiling and chuckling as well.
“I don’t know if I want the fuck-knuckle dead, I just want him to leave me alone. I don’t want him looming over me, trying to interfere with my life any more. I don’t know how we’re going to do that, but I just want him gone...in a non-deadly way.”
“So you want to leave him still breathing? I know a couple of other guys who can have a ‘talk’ to him, just like how Darryl and the guys had a ‘talk’ to Parker.”
“No, none of that. Don’t lower yourself to his level. He’s the violent dickhead, not you, so please don’t resort to that if you can help it,” Allee said.
They walked back through to the kitchen, where Tania puttered around preparing dinner, while Darryl and Noah lurked in the doorway murmuring between themselves. As the doorbell rang once more, Darryl headed to answer it while Noah walked back towards Allee, embracing her from behind and nuzzling her ear through her hair. Leaning back into his chest, she sighed and then roused herself as she heard Sammy’s unusually solemn voice talking over Andre and Charlie. Charlie sounded enraged, with Allee only able to discern words such as ‘Fucking turd!’, ‘Arsehole from hell!’ and ‘Fucking useless twat-waffles!’ Allee couldn’t hear what Andre was saying over Charlie’s protestations.
Walking back into the kitchen, all four looked grim. Seeing such emotion, or lack thereof, on Sammy’s usually happy and cheeky face was disconcerting.
Darryl clapped his hands and then rubbed them together, “Right, let’s get dinner sorted, and then we’ll talk.”
Nobody argued, each plotting away in their minds of just how they’d get Stuart to back off.
Sammy came up with the final plan, which echoed what Noah had suggested to Allee that morning.
“I know these guys, have known them for years. They don’t take kindly to abusers, as one of them grew up watching his parents’ pound on each other, then turn on the kids. They especially hate people fucking with those that they respect and admire.”
“What does that mean?” Allee huddled into Noah’s side.
