27

27

KADE

FLASHBACK

Hours after Stacey leaves the manor, with a parting kiss and promising to see me tomorrow night, Jason shows up at my bedroom door.

“What do you want?” I hold the door open – confused.

“Going out with some of the guys from work, but my black shirt is too tight at the arms.” He walks in, instantly going for my dresser to go through my tops. “I’ve been going heavy at the gym and can’t button past my chest.”

“What makes you think my clothes will fit you? I’m tall and you’re…” I stare at him, gesturing to his height. “Not.”

“I’m only three inches shorter than you, dickhead.”

I shrug. But when he pulls open another drawer, I sigh. “Did you draw this?” he asks.

It’s a sketch of Stacey. Her face. Her smile. Each freckle and imperfection on her skin detailed, her hair cascading all over the page. I only started sketching again a few days ago. I gulp. “Yeah.”

“It’s good. It’s really good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

“My therapist pushes on it. I mainly design tattoos for me and Stacey.” I snatch it off him and flip over the pages to close the sketch pad. “Here, this one.” I hand him a black top, and instead of leaving, he pulls off his hoodie and goes into my bathroom.

He sprays my deodorant, then my aftershave, before slapping my shoulder on his way out. “Thanks, little bro.”

“You need to stop calling me that.”

“You’re eleven years younger than me. Therefore” – he grabs my door handle – “little bro fits, asshole.”

Once he leaves, I sit down and open the sketch pad and work on a new design. Stacey wants me to make her a tattoo to cover her thigh, and I think she’ll love this one.

After an hour, I head downstairs to the kitchen with full intentions of making a snack and maybe a coffee.

I take one step in and turn back out.

Jason has his own fucking house – why is he kissing his girlfriend on the kitchen counter with her legs wrapped around his waist? Motherfucker knows fine well that my mum is in the next room.

I knock on the door heavily, three thumps with my fist – I hear her yelping and both of them straightening themselves. “Good to come in?”

Jason clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“You idiot,” Giana mutters to Jason as I push open the door.

I look between them. “Why are you trying to fuck your girlfriend in here of all places?”

“Fiancée actually,” she replies, lifting her left hand to show off the diamond on her ring finger. “Jason proposed yesterday! And I said yes!”

He didn’t mention this while stealing my clothes and emptying half my aftershave, but regardless, I give a genuine smile and pat his back as I pass him. I pull Giana in for a hug and turn to Jason. “Knew you had a set of balls on you. But please don’t rub them all over the kitchen counters.”

Giana slaps my arm, and I chuckle as I move towards the refrigerator, rummaging for ingredients to make a sandwich. They both stare at me as I set up a chopping board and slice some bread.

I look up at them mid-slice. “What?”

Jason glances at his future wife. “We’re going to try for a baby. I wanted to speak to you about it first.”

“Why would you need to speak to me about it? You need my blessing or something?”

He sighs. “Stop being a sarcastic wanker. We want to know if you’ll be alright with it if we do, or if you’d prefer we wait. I know things have been tough.”

“I’d never stop you from doing something like that. If you want to have a baby then have a baby.” I look at Giana. “You sure you want to birth his spawn? He’s a dick.”

I run to the other side of the kitchen island, knife in hand, as my brother goes for me. “I’ll strangle you,” he threatens.

I smirk. “I’ll tell my dad.”

He narrows his eyes. “I dare you.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Not if I kill him first,” he replies, and he bursts out laughing as the words pass his lips – he knows he could never get near my dad to harm him. Instead, he goes deeper. “I’m no relation to Aria, remember?”

Giana groans. “This again? You’re not going to screw your stepmother, for crying out loud!”

“My dad will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb, then your own dad will finish the job.”

“Pair of idiots,” Giana mutters as Jason throws a tomato at me, and I chuck it back. “Can we grow up please?”

We ignore her and keep our faces straight, until we lose it and laugh, him pulling me in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re doing good. Keep your girl safe, and keep your chin up.”

“I will.”

Giana smiles and pulls Jason’s arm. “Come on. I have a night shift and you have your work night out. Kade, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I really don’t mind, and neither would Stacey,” I say, stacking my sandwich with slices of tomato and different meats. “Just keep the baby-making to your own fucking house.”

I know Jason’s giving me the middle finger as they leave, and I munch on my snack, walk the dogs while texting Base and Dez, then head back to my room to watch the next episode of Still Game.

I look at the last messages from Stacey.

Freckles: I meant what I said. I didn’t take my pill today, and I won’t take it again. We’ll leave and start a new life where no one knows us, okay?

Me: Okay, I’m already missing you. I love you.

Freckles: I love you more. I’m heading out in an hour, and my battery is low, so I’ll message you when I can.

She’ll be out now. I’m bored.

I was going to ask Dez and Base if they wanted to go out somewhere, but they’re busy.

Instead, I lie in bed and look through our pictures together from holidays, lazy days in the indoor pool, our beds, and then I take a shower.

Kneeling, I pull out the box under my bed with shaky hands and place it on the mattress. I open it, letting the lid slide from my fingers as I stare at the contents.

We packed all the baby clothes we bought into it, along with newborn essentials, Stacey’s pregnancy notes and weekly Polaroid pictures of me holding Stacey, waiting to keep going until I was holding a huge baby bump, then our daughter.

But we never got to do that, so we’ve locked all the memories and traces of the pregnancy into this box. We agreed to open it after we fell pregnant again, but I’ve caved.

The princess dress sits on my lap while I rub the material between my fingers, imagining a little girl giggling with the dogs and screaming as she leaps into my arms while we play in the pool.

Catch me, Daddy!

I love you, Daddy.

I want to be here forever, Daddy.

I sniff, stuffing all the things away and kicking the box under the bed again, before huffing and lying down.

Stacey’s phone is dead. She’s not been online and hasn’t received my text telling her to have a good night and that she deserves it. I tell Dez and Base I’m having an early night, and they say they’ll see me when they see me.

Me and Base are going to America for a few days for his birthday in two weeks, and I’m kinda dreading being away from Stacey.

I think I might be the clingy boyfriend. Most likely.

I close my eyes and hug the pillow Stacey sleeps on, falling asleep to the sound of her voice.

By the next morning, I’ve still not heard from her.

Usually, I’d get drunken calls from Jason, but there’s nothing from him either.

Mum is making breakfast and offers me a coffee and a bacon roll. We eat in comfortable silence, then she drives me to my appointment, where I tell my therapist that things are getting easier, and that I’d like to start weaning off my high dosage, to which she agrees.

I tell her how I’m dealing with the loss – that we want to try again, and she said that as long as I feel comfortable, then she sees no issue. But I’ve to sit down and have a serious talk with Stacey about how big a responsibility it is to have a child, especially at our age.

We’ll be twenty soon.

I’m fine with starting early, and Stacey has made it clear that she is too – I’ll marry her, and our kids will be there. Our daughter will be the flower girl, and our son will stand by my side while Stacey’s dad walks her to us.

By the afternoon, I’ve still heard nothing.

Me: Are you alright? Are you too hungover to enter the world of socialising yet?

An hour later.

Me: I’m going to order us Chinese food when you get here. It’ll help the hangover.

Another two hours.

Me: I’m having withdrawals, Freckles. Want me to come to your house and nurse you back to health?

She replies instantly.

Freckles: No!

Freckles: I’m okay, just really tired. Me and Tylar are coming over later to go over plans with Ewan for the surprise studio he wants to build Luciella. We’re going to stay over. I can come and see you once Ty is asleep? I need to talk to you.

Freckles: I miss you.

I smile at the screen despite not knowing what she needs to talk to me about. It won’t be bad. We’re good. I type back.

Me: Sure. I miss you too, Freckles.

Finally, Tylar and Stacey are here and downstairs with my mum and Ewan, but I wait. They’re discussing whatever plans they’re making for my sister’s studio, since Tylar’s family owns the studio they dance at. When they eventually go to their beds, I wait a bit more.

Milo and Hopper are lying at my feet as I pet them when my phone vibrates, and it’s fucking embarrassing how fast I snatch it from the bedside unit.

Freckles: She’s asleep now. Get you at the pool house?

I frown. Why the fuck would she not just come here?

Me: I’ll race you.

She types and deletes a few times.

Freckles: I always win, remember?

I smirk like a psycho and get my shoes on, patting the dogs and telling them to stay in bed. The house is in darkness – unsurprising considering it’s one in the morning.

When I push into the pool house, I roll my eyes. Of course I got here first. I pull my phone out, about to tell her she most certainly didn’t win, when she rushes in.

My phone is tossed aside, and I scoop her into my arms without a word and crush my lips to hers. She whimpers but wraps her arms around me and kisses me back, sliding her tongue past my lips to tangle with my own.

I press her back to the door, closing it, and hum against her mouth as she tilts her head and deepens the kiss. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I grasp at her thighs and hips.

She tenses, and I loosen my hold. I’m so wound up, needing her, that I’m being too rough.

My phone dings twice, but I ignore it.

Stacey brushes her fingers through my hair, her hands on my cheeks, my neck, dragging down my chest, as if she’s studying every inch of me.

I grab her ass and grind my hardening cock against her, and she flinches with a hiss, freezing in my arms.

“Stop,” she cries against my mouth, and I pull back with confusion. “Please stop.”

I settle her on her feet. “What’s wrong?”

She breaks down into a sobbing mess, and I catch her as her knees give way, just as my phone dings once more.

I hold her to me as I glance down at my screen, which has lit up with three messages from a number I don’t recognise. It dings once more as Stacey weeps into my chest, clinging to me for dear life and not telling me what’s wrong.

“Talk to me,” I say softly.

Nothing. All she’s doing is crying and trembling in my arms.

I kiss her temple. “It’s going to be alright. We’ll try again. I promise. We’re just hurting right now, but we’ll work through this, okay? Me and you, Freckles.”

She sobs even louder, and I grow increasingly concerned as I try to pull her back from me to see her face, but she keeps her head dipped.

“Do you want me to carry you to bed?”

She shakes her head. “I’m so, so, so sorry, Kade.”

I hug her to me, my chest tightening. “Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Stop apologising for something that was out of your control.”

Her hand grips my top at the back as she rattles against me, hyperventilating while repeatedly muttering “sorry”.

My phone dings once more, and the message I get a preview of has me frowning and leaning down to grab it. I rest my chin on her head while I read.

Unknown Number: Not such a good girl now, is she?

Unknown Number: And with him, of all people.

Unknown Number: One video attachment.

Unknown Number: If you want any more details, let me know.

I release her and stand back as I click on the attachment. A video starts.

Bile rises in my throat instantly, and I feel my heart race in my chest, painful and swollen and fucking breaking as I watch Stacey in bed with someone else. They’re naked and… I grit my teeth. She has her arms around him, kissing him as he fucks her.

The guy rolls onto his back, and then she’s on him, and I drop my phone like it’s burned me when I realise who it is.

I glare up at the traitorous bitch. “You fucked my brother?”

Stacey cries and holds the back of her hand to her mouth. “Please l-let me explain, Kade. Please. It’s not what it looks like.”

My vision is blurring as my entire body starts to shake, and so does my voice as I manage to speak.

“You slept with my fucking brother?”

She tries to come to me, but I back away from her like she’s a disease. “Please,” she sobs. “I was drunk in the club and—”

“Get the fuck out!” I yell, and she flinches and drops her head. “Leave. Right fucking now. We’re done. You cheated. It’s fucking over! Get the fuck out!”

“Kade. It’s me. I would never do anything to hurt—”

I flip the coffee table, smashing all of its contents. “No!” I point at her, my eyes burning as my heart shatters into pieces, staring at the girl I thought loved me. “You’re nothing. You’re fucking dead to me.”

She tries to grab me as I storm past her, but then she’s on the ground, crying – begging me. I throw the door open and fucking leave her there, fighting against hot tears as I rush through the manor with a crippling pain in my chest.

As soon as I grab my keys, I storm past the dogs and get into my car.

My phone screen lights up with an incoming call.

Freckles.

I reject it and start the engine, just as messages start desperately pinging up on my screen.

Freckles: Please answer the phone, Kade. Let me explain.

Freckles: I want to fix this. Please.

She can fuck off.

Stacey cheated on me. She fucked Jason.

And now I’m going to kill him.

While I speed through the roads, nearly kerbing it multiple times, I punch my steering wheel until my knuckles bleed, my eyes and cheeks soaked, and pathetic tears spill onto my top. I’m so fucking mad and disgusted and goddamn hurt.

Stacey cheated on me. She actually fucking cheated on me.

I punch the steering wheel again and slam the brakes on, pressing my forehead to the wheel while I attempt to breathe, trying to calm my rage. I try to not think about all the times we’ve had together, all the firsts and I love yous and even the excitement that we were going to become parents.

I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life.

I pull out a joint I had pre-rolled in my glovebox – it burns my lungs on the first inhale.

I close my eyes and count to three, my forehead still pressed to the steering wheel. My jaw tenses, my chest fucking burns and it’s not from the joint. My hand grasps at the back of my neck as I try to control my emotions.

I’ve never been good at control, but right now, with all the violent thoughts running wild in my head, I need to.

When I told Jason Stacey was pregnant, he was so fucking proud of me. I wanted him to be the first to know. Yet he fucked her.

Fucking bastard.

I stare blankly – images of my girlfriend and brother screwing, kissing, fucking all over each other like they knew each other.

They looked comfortable.

I grab my phone from my pocket and watch the clip again, torturing myself even more as I keep pausing it on their faces, nearly crushing my screen under the pressure of my thumb against her smile.

I hate her. I fucking hate her. Both of them.

She made me believe she loved me. She made me fucking believe we had a future and a plan. I stopped doubting myself, doubting what we had and how to deal with each emotion.

Was the baby even mine? How long have they been fucking?

I call Jason, but he rejects it, putting me to voicemail instead. She keeps fucking calling, and no matter how many times I reject the call, she keeps going.

Just fuck off.

I feel numb both physically and mentally, and the psychological wall is slowly starting to drop. That black veil of nothingness threatens to swallow me whole as I toss the joint out the window and start the engine.

Shivers snake around my arms and crawl up my chest as I pull into his street.

Jason’s lights are on when I reach his house.

I don’t hesitate to get out of the car, and as I reach the door, Giana, with swollen red eyes and a suitcase rolling behind, stops in her tracks.

“You know,” is all she says, her lip trembling.

I nod, my anger hitting new levels when I hear him calling after her.

“Gi! Fuck. Please listen to me.”

Monotone and blocking out my brother, she stares at me and says, “He told me he slept with your girlfriend. In our bed, where we’ve been trying for a baby.”

She glances at Jason. “You’re a vile piece of shit. Not only was she your brother’s girlfriend, but she was a teenager!”

“It wasn’t like that, Gi. Please, I’m fucking begging you not to leave me.”

She gives me one last look and rushes towards the Uber waiting for her, but before my fucking cunt of a brother can run after her, I capture him by the throat and throw him into the house. The door cracks on its hinges as I shove it fully open.

He lands on his back, and I climb on top of him. “Fucking scum.”

He doesn’t get a chance to talk as I start hammering my fist into his face. Pain sears over my knuckles, but I’m blinded by the image of him sucking on Stacey’s throat to pay attention to how hard I’m hitting him. “She was my fucking girlfriend! You’re supposed to be my brother!”

Holding his hands up to protect his face, he barely gets a second to even breathe before I stand up and drive my foot into his side, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

“Kade,” he chokes out. “Stop.”

I grab his shirt collar, picturing Stacey all over him as I smash my fist into his face once more, his eye instantly swelling.

Giana is back now, dragging me away, telling me to stop, but with the roaring in my ears and the rate my heart is going, I’m blank to everything else around me. I shrug away from her and drive my knee into the side of his face when he tries to get up.

“How long?” I grab his hair, seething as I grit my teeth and yell, “How fucking long have you been screwing my girlfriend?”

Blood coats his face, dripping from his chin. “S-Stop.”

“Please stop, Kade. He isn’t worth it. Neither of them are!”

Giana yanks at my sleeve, and when Jason spits blood out on the floor and tries to get up again, raising his hand to block any more blows, he says, “I didn’t know it was her.”

He’s on his knees, head bowed, his shoulders shaking. His face is bloodied as he looks up, eyes on Giana. “Please, baby. Please don’t go. I love you.”

“And did you love me while you were fucking a teenager last night? You’re thirty years old, Jason. Fucking act like it.”

My brother tries to get to his feet to beg some more, but Giana manages to pull me away, shoving me into my car. “Go home.” I’m not looking at her, so she grabs my face. “Go home, Kade. He’s not worth it. She’s not worth it.”

My lip trembles as I stare at her. She’s been crying for a while, by the looks of it. “She used to be worth it.”

“I know, honey. I know. Just… go home. Please. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I nod, glaring back at Jason, who’s sobbing in his driveway, muttering apologies and begging Giana to stay, but she slams the door of the Uber and vanishes.

He runs after the car, trips and sobs into the ground. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I start my engine and drive home, leaving him there.

Stacey’s gone. Thank fuck. She’s nowhere to be seen, and the guard at the gates said she left in a car an hour ago.

I feel numb when I reach my room, the dogs licking my bloodied and busted-open hands.

I feel numb when I look at all of our previous messages.

I feel like I’m dying when I watch the clip again, texting the number and asking for more details. But it bounces back – a sign that the person has blocked me.

Milo and Hopper follow me around the room as I collect all of her shit, pack it into a bag and get back into my car.

Jason tries to call me four times and sends a message begging me to pick up, but I block him.

I haven’t blocked Stacey yet.

I want to hear her side. I need to hear what she has to fucking say for herself – to know if this has been going on for a while or if it was a one-time thing. It won’t change the outcome, but I need to know.

I park down the street from her house, and my lungs completely seize when I walk up with a bag of her things and see the black Jeep sitting outside. I nearly fall to my knees when Stacey emerges from the passenger side and heads for her front door.

I drop her things on the ground and watch Jason’s car drive away.

And there’s my answer. To say I’m heartbroken is an understatement. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way or know how to control it.

I get in my car, staring into nothingness as I somehow make my way home. The organ in my chest squeezes every time I picture them together.

I bite my lip, and the burn in my eyes nearly buckles me.

No wonder Dad lost his mind over love. It sucks the life out of you.

A life I don’t fucking want.

I don’t remember being in the medicine cupboard, or grabbing the numerous bottles stored within it. I want to stop – it’s like I’m being controlled by someone else. They want me dead. They want me gone. They want to eliminate the middleman.

Everyone wants me dead.

I guzzle every last pill then toss aside all the bottles – the glass of water smashing on the kitchen floor.

It’s like a demon is sitting on my chest, telling me to go to the boat, to lie on it and watch the moon and the stars.

It rocks beneath me.

The stars aren’t visible with the clouds. The moon hides behind trees.

This really isn’t what I had in mind, but the dizziness and nausea is starting to take over. I’ll fall asleep, and it’ll all be over.

She was my girlfriend, and now she’s not.

He was my brother, and now he’s not.

They’ll blame me. Luciella will blame me. She always does. They’ll say I’m just like my dad.

Everyone thinks I’m the broken son of Tobias Mitchell, and I proved it by beating the shit out of my brother after finding out he was sleeping with the girl I’m in love with.

How many hours has it been? Why am I not dead yet?

My eyes close, and I try to sleep. Sleep will help. Maybe it’ll calm the voices in my head that are egging me on.

Jump into the water.

No one loves you.

You ruin everything.

Drown yourself.

She prefers him.

She blames you for losing the baby, and this is her revenge.

Die.

You deserve this.

It’s your fault.

It’s all your fault.

I vomit while I’m lying on my back. The boat is spinning, and I struggle to tip myself to the side. Air fails to reach my lungs as more vomit gathers in my throat, suffocating me.

My legs don’t move when I try to get up, my spine ramrod straight, and the only thing I can move is my left arm as I choke on my own vomit.

I want to breathe.

I need to breathe.

I can’t fucking die.

Shakily, I fish my phone out of my pocket, my arm growing numb like the rest of my body, and open the chat box with my mum.

I manage to send her my location, and spit out as much vomit as I can before the next lot chokes me.

My eyes burn with the pressure of not being able to breathe, and the view above me fades every few seconds. My body tenses each time I try to inhale, bile rises and vomit spurts from my mouth.

Everything in me is on fire as I try to get up.

If I die, then everyone suffers. I’ll be gone, and I’ll leave my family in ruin. Stacey will blame herself. Jason will too.

My lungs sting, shrivelling from lack of oxygen, and my muscles go limp, the pressure in my head halting, and my vision goes blurry.

If I die, at least I’ll get to be with my angel.

I hear my mum screaming my name, getting closer, closer, even closer as my eyes start to shut, and I stop fighting the urge to fill my lungs.

Someone grabs my head and turns me, forcing their fingers down my throat, but I don’t know what happens next. I think this is it.