I pull back the corner of the covers and slip in behind her and place my hand on her upper arm. She shifts her body to face me.
“Can’t I even cry around here in peace?” she grumbles, but there’s a hint of humour to her tone.
“I read the letter,” I tell her. No point beating around the bush.
A heavy sigh leaves her lips. “You don’t need to worry about me.” She sniffs.
“I am worried about you, whether you fuckin’ want me to or not.”
“I’m tired, Rocco. Tired of struggling.”
“Wanna tell me why the bank’s beating down your door?”
“It’s all his fault.”
“Who’s?”
There’s a long silence between us, and I wonder if she’s about to kick me out or start crying again.
“Four fucking long years, Rocco. I’ve been paying off a debt left to me care of Prince Fuckface.”
“What the fuck? What happened?”
“Rewind four years when I was engaged. That was my first mistake.”
“Okay,” I say, to keep her talking.
“I went into the relationship blind. Of course back then, I had my parents’ full support. Their daughter was going to marry an established businessman with a prominent family, and it was going to be a big, lavish wedding. I was stupid and naïve, and didn’t think twice buying a house in joint names with this man. I was going to be with him forever.”
“How did it turn to shit?”
“The cracks were there, but I didn’t piece it all together until it was too late. The engagement ring he was getting designed was taking months longer than it should have. We weren’t eating out as much, and he downgraded his Mercedes S-Class coupe to an E-Class. The bank statements stopped coming in the mail. As far as I knew, his business was doing well. All my savings and every spare cent I earned went into our joint account, which we used to offset the home loan to pay less interest. I didn’t question it. It made sense.”
She puffs up her cheeks and lets out a loud rush of air.
“Then one day I went into the bank to get some cash out. I was gonna buy something nice to wear for an upcoming wedding we were going to. They cut up my card and the next thing I knew, the suits from the bank came around with a notice evicting me from the house. Fuckface was conveniently MIA, and I couldn’t get in contact with him. The last time I saw him was just before he left on a business trip overseas. That was the last time I’ve had any contact. His phone was disconnected. It was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth. The bank needed money, and since they couldn’t find him, and the loan was in my name too, they came to me.”
“Fuck. That blows,” I say, as I shake my head.
“Yeah, it does. They took the house, but because he’d borrowed up to the hilt, maxed out credit cards and withdrew everything from our re-draw facility, they came after me for the rest. I’d just given up my full-time job to take on more study. We were planning to try for a baby on our honeymoon. One day I was leading what I thought was the perfect life, and then I was on my own with a big-arse debt.”
“Where did you go?”
“I moved home, and my parents were great. They helped me pay off some bills and gave me a place to stay. A few weeks later I had a massive bender. They came home a day early from holidays, and found my head buried between the thighs of a French backpacker. I was shown the door.”
Suds was caught licking out a hot French backpacker? Don’t get turned on. This is serious shit. She was kicked out. Change the subject.
“Shit. And you haven’t seen the fuckwit since?”
“If I had the money I would’ve hired a private investigator. I tried reaching out to his family, but they wouldn’t take my calls. If I ever see him again, I’ll skin him alive.”
“Even though you can’t stand the sight of blood?”
“You’re right. I’ll need help. You up for that?”
“Hell yeah.”
“The fucker not only ruined my life, he’s fucked up my credit rating forever. I’m never going be free of this shit. I’m basically working for nothing. I’ll be renting for the rest of my life, because there is no way a bank will even consider me for a home loan.”
“I’m not gonna let them take your car,” I say, and I mean it. I’ve got money. I’ve been smart with what Mum left me. Stupid fucking staph infection.
“This isn’t your battle,” she whispers.
“The hell it’s not. I just made it mine, so deal with it.”
“You’re so arrogant,” she sputters.
“You’re too proud to ask for help,” I say, mirroring her tone.
Silence.
A hiccup bursts from her lips. “Oh,” she moans, and moves her hands to her stomach.
“Oh, what?”
“I don’t feel so good,” she says. An almighty burp rips from her mouth.
“In what universe is that okay?” I mock her.
“What if I puke? Will you hold my hair back?”
“Ah,” I mumble.
“Kidding … I’ll be fine. But a glass of water would be awesome.”
“Be right back.”
I spring out of her bed, go to the bathroom for a piss, and then head to the kitchen. After turning off the TV, I scull a glass of water, and then take one back to her.
I walk in to find Suds blowing her nose. By the jerking of her shoulders and her jagged breath, I can tell she’s been crying again. Dammit. I thought we’d sorted this shit. Why is she still upset? Women.
Suds sits up and I hand her the glass. She takes a few sips as I perch on the edge of the bed.
“No more cryin’,” I tell her.
A noise somewhere between a laugh, a sob and hiccup comes from her mouth. It doesn’t sound human. She rolls over and faces away from me.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she argues. She reaches back and grabs my hand and wraps it around her middle. Guess I’m not leaving.
I snuggle in behind her as I was before, except I slip my other arm beneath her neck, letting her use it for a pillow.
“No, but you need to be told,” I growl in her ear.
Her breathing settles down, and little by little I feel the tension in her body fade. I close my eyes and drink in her sweet scent as I think of the shit that went down today.
“I hope you realise what an important person you are, De Luca, ’cause right now you’re the only one keeping me together.”
Wow. What the hell do you say to that?
I tighten my hold around her waist and pull her back to rest against my chest. I haven’t felt important to anyone in the longest time. To hear her say that makes me wanna hold on to her … and not let go.
“One day sober … proud of you,” she whispers, and then lets out a sweet sigh.
Has she been keeping tabs on me? I’ve had a couple of beers with Jones the last couple of afternoons before coming home, not today though. Maybe she’s smelt it on my breath.
“Yeah,” I grunt out. With all the commotion going on around here, I hadn’t thought about it.
****
A warm body is spooning back into me when I wake. I slept in her bed, and I’m free of stab wounds. Ha.
“I can’t remember the last time I woke up with one of those perched against me,” she says, in the sexiest morning voice I’ve ever heard. I thought I was hard before…
“You get me hard.” I don’t even feel bad about grinding it against her that little bit more.
“Ha ha, very funny,” she says, but she doesn’t make any kind of move to squirm away. Interesting.
“Seriously. You do. Just telling it how it is.”
“Well you’d better get out of here before I … um,” she stammers.
“What? Do something with it?” Is she tempted?
“No!” She rolls onto her back and shakes her head. “God, I think it’s time for you and your morning glory to leave. I’ve gotta get up and get to work. Tony gave me an extra shift so I can’t be late.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta be in the workshop in an hour.”