Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives) (29 page)

BOOK: Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives)
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Although Ash knew Dante’s words made sense, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that his brother wasn’t being completely honest. But regardless of whether Dante was innocent or not, Ash needed to protect him.

“This is what’s gonna happen,” Ash said. “Juliet, you’re gonna drop me off at Tiana’s, then take Dante to Craven’s. I’ll phone Saul now, giving him a rundown on what’s goin’ on. Once I check Tiana’s fine, I’ll go to the cops—”

“You still there?” Sledge yelled through the phone.

Ash put it back to his ear. “Yeah, what?”

“Stay clear of the pigs until I get some more info outta them.”

“Okay, but call me as soon as you do.”

“Most definitely, and Ash...”

“Yeah?”

“Stay safe. I... I love you.” Sledge hung up, leaving Ash clinging onto the phone, his brother’s words taking him by surprise.

“You alright, Ash?” Juliet asked.

“Um, yeah,” he said, hanging up. He looked back at Dante, who narrowed his eyes at him. “Don’t worry, bro,” Ash said. “I’ll sort this out.”

Dante’s brows pulled together. “Really?”

“Yeah, cos no matter how much you piss me off, I still love you, you fuckwit.”

“Ash!” Juliet snapped, “Why do you always say nice things, then go and ruin it?”

“Don’t worry, J,” Dante said, “Cos I love the fuckwit too. And I would kill if anyone threatened you guys; I just didn’t do it this time.”

“This time?” Ash asked.

Dante looked out the window. “At all.”

Ash turned back around as Juliet started driving again, his mind returning to Len’s murder—and the guy’s cousin, someone who would also kill for their family. He closed his eyes, knowing the police were the least of his problems.

 

 

 

 

24

Sledge

Sledge re-entered Mr Murphy’s house, heading through the kitchen and into the lounge. The place was covered with photos of the late Mrs Murphy along with other family snapshots, of which Sledge had been told about many times over. Running trophies as ancient as the man himself lined the mantelpiece above the fireplace, while brightly coloured furniture filled the room, giving the place a seventies feel.

Mr Murphy and the policeman, who Sledge recognised from Tama’s investigation, focused on him as he approached the couch. The large scar under the officer’s chin looked like someone with a bad aim had attempted to slit the guy’s throat. Sledge grimaced, the thought reminding him of Len.

“Have you managed to get a hold of your brothers yet?” the officer asked, remaining seated.

“No, but I left messages on their phones.”

“Good, because it’s essential they contact us straight away.” The officer indicated to Mr Murphy, the old guy smiling up at Sledge like he was having Christmas and his past eighty-odd birthdays all at once. “Mr Murphy has given me another account of what happened, one which conflicts with the emergency call. He’s stated that it was not Dante who followed the victim onto the property but a much older man, and that the unidentified man had been sitting in his van for a good hour, watching the place.”

Mr Murphy cut in. “I went up to him and introduced myself, and asked who he was waiting for, because you can’t be too careful nowadays with these horrible people casing places to burgle.”

“That wasn’t a wise thing to do, Mr Murphy,” the officer said.

“But he was perfectly polite and was very happy to talk to me. He said Ash and Dante were his boys, which probably explains why you and Juliet don’t look like your brothers.”

“No, we have the same parents,” Sledge said.

“Really, but you look more Māori, like that fella who used to live with you. I thought he was your father.”

Sledge knew the old guy was talking about his cousin, because they did have an uncanny resemblance. “What did the man look like?” he asked.

“He had two teardrop tattoos and a whopper of a scar down his face.”

Sledge brought a hand to his face. Chaz turning up at his brothers’ house wasn’t unexpected, but hearing he’d been there still made him want to throw up.

“What’s wrong, son?” Mr Murphy asked.

Sledge lowered his hand and focused on the officer. “That’s my stepfather. I assume you know what he did to my family?”

“Yes, I’ll call it in,” the officer said, grabbing his radio.

“I thought you were s’posed to have a patrol car watching my brothers’ place.”

“Our resources don’t stretch far enough to have one there twenty-four/seven.”

“You lot are as useful as tits on a bull.” Sledge pulled out his phone and dialled Ash’s number, getting more agitated when his brother didn’t pick up. Swearing, he hung up then dialled Juliet’s number.

She answered on the third ring, “What’s happening?”

“Chaz killed Len.”

She gasped, while the officer said “It’s only a possibility.”

Sledge ignored him. “Who are you with?”

“Ash and Dante.”

“Good, pass on the message.”

“Will do.”

Hanging up, Sledge turned back to the officer and Mr Murphy, who were both watching him intently. “That wuz my sister, she’s gonna keep trying my brothers while I ring my other relatives. I’ll go outside to do it.”

The officer nodded then turned back to Mr Murphy, who instantly started jabbering about Beth having broken up with Ash, and all the shouting that had been coming from the place of late, though how the hell the old man knew about the first one was beyond Sledge. For the briefest of seconds, he felt sorry for the policeman, the old fella knowing how to chew the ear off corn.

He headed out the back again, going around the side of the garden shed so he didn’t get any nosy old men or cops sneaking up on him. He dialled his grandfather first, relaying what had happened and to pass on the message to everyone up north. His grandfather started cursing in Croatian, then stated he was coming down to Auckland, which Sledge nipped in the bud, using the policeman as an excuse to keep him away, the old fella not in the best of health.

Next he rang his father in Taranaki, who went silent for a moment, then said he would be there in six hours, something that Sledge didn’t discourage, because he knew Dante would need him. Once he’d finished contacting the rest of his relatives, he phoned Naf, giving him the rundown on the situation.

“Are you talking ’bout Kirstin’s dad?” Naf asked.

“Yeah, though shit knows how Chaz stuffed the fat bastard into that small playhouse.”

“Man, that’s horrible. Poor Kirstin and Tyler, they must be gutted.”

“Fuck Tyler!”

“Woah, man, take it easy, it wuz his uncle. Gotta feel sorry for the dude.”

“Not after what he did to Corey.”

“He did nuthin’ to Corey.”

“He fucked him.”

“Dude, too much info.”

Sledge went quiet. He’d fumed and swore continuously on the car ride over, but as soon as he’d seen the cops swarming his brothers’ place like flies on shit he’d pushed Corey out of his mind. But now, the little bastard started creeping back in, making him feel guilty as hell. He hadn’t meant those words he’d said to Corey. He didn’t want to never see him again, far from it, but Corey choosing Tyler over him hurt, because for that one moment when Corey had admitted to loving him, needing him, he’d almost cracked and given in. And if Tyler hadn’t shown, he might have made love... Made love? Christ, what the hell was wrong with him?

“Sledge,” Naf said, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” Sledge answered, trying to control his voice. How could he have gone from wanting Corey as a best friend to wanting to do him? It was warped. No! He was warped, and totally fucked in the head. Sick, sick, fucking sick, he couldn’t do that shit, shit literally. God, what he needed was for someone to hit him over the head so that his brain rattled about and clicked back to focusing on chicks, and not dicks, because the only dick that should be in the picture was his, and preferably inserted up some hot piece of arse, NO, he meant pussy. Dammit!

“Sledge?”

“Sorry, arse, no, I mean shit... No, no, I didn’t call you an arse or a shit, I meant to say
bad stuff
seems to be piling up at my door, and the only reason I know ’bout Tyler’s uncle is cos he told me. I went to his place, and found Corey sleeping in the guy’s bloody bed. I tried to get him to come home, but he wouldn’t.”

“Well, if he wants to stay with Tyler, leave him be.”

“No, Tyler is a Jones. They’re dangerous.”

“Not all of them. Kirstin wuz alright and Tyler’s harmless. He totally went to pieces under you, even Corey could take him on and win and that’s saying sumpthin’. So, if my bro’s fine with him, don’t worry ’bout it.”

“He’s not fine! And he should come home where I can look after him.”

“Well, you’re doin a pretty shit job of that, he got hurt cos of you.”

“He did not! He got hurt cos you took him to that party and let Tyler fuck him. This is yours and Tyler’s fault, not mine.”

“What a load of bull. It wuz your bloody temper that got him hurt, no one else. You shouldn’t have attacked Tyler.”

“Tyler took advantage of him!”

“I doubt that. Corey’s the one who takes advantage of people. Look what he did to Juliet, and not to mention what he did to you with the threesome. He’s lucky you didn’t bash him for that.”

“I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but you needa back off or else you’re gonna push Corey further away. He needs someone like everyone else, and if it’s Tyler then at least the guy’s good looking and has a bloody nice car. Sheesh, I’d love to drive it again, and if Tyler’s his boyfriend, he might let me. It wuz such a sweet ride—”

“It’s
just
a car.”

“Are you crazy? It’s not just a car, it’s a freakin’ Alfa Romeo 159 3.2 JTS. Didn’t you hear that V6 engine? And if you were nicer to Tyler he might let you drive it too—”

“I don’t wanna drive his bloody car; I want him to keep away from Corey.”

“That’s Corey’s decision not yours, and if he wants Tyler as a boyfriend, get over it, cos Corey won’t stay your mate if you keep beating up his dates.”

“Tyler’s not good enough for him.”

“Are you shitting me? Tyler’s way outta Corey’s league; I don’t know why that dude is even interested in my bro.”

“No way. Corey is way better lookin’ than Tyler. It’s Tyler who’s out-kicked his coverage, not the other way round.”

“Are you blind, dude? Tyler looks like a freakin’ model, and that car wuz an absolute babe.”

“Shut the fuck up ’bout the car.”

“But it purred, man, it purred—”

“You care more about Tyler’s car than your own brother! And if you’re not gonna do anything ’bout that sleazebag, I will.”

“God, you’re a selfish prick. You don’t have a right to say who Corey can and can’t see.”

“I’ve got every bloody right, I fuckin’ love him!”

“You
what
?”

Sledge went silent.

“Holy crap!” Naf said. “That’s why you’re all hyper, you’re jealous. Man, I would never have pegged you for a fag.”

“Cos I’m not, you moron! I love him as a mate.”

“Yeah, I
really
believe that.”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m gonna come round and beat the shit outta you.”

“Sounds like you’re being
a bit
overly defensive. And if you want Corey, he’d definitely say yes, my bro loves you too. Just tell him what you feel.”

“What I feel? And you’re calling
me
a fag? Go fuck yourself.” Sledge hung up, aching to smack Naf’s face in. And reactions like Naf’s were precisely why he couldn’t go with Corey, because he had a bad problem with tripping over his tongue and saying the wrong thing. And if he fucked Corey, someone would eventually find out... Sledge leaned his back against the shed, and closed his eyes.
But he wanted to
, although he didn’t understand why. He wasn’t into dudes, and the transvestite couldn’t be counted, because technically he got a hard-on for what looked like a chick. But how did it explain him getting one for Corey, and why was kissing Corey so much better than all the chicks he’d ever kissed. He wished Corey had just left it at the kiss, because it had been perfect, but the little shit had to ruin things by grabbing his cock, then showing off his own one. As if he was going to touch that. No bloody way, he wasn’t a faggot... Was he?

“Sledge!”

Sledge jumped, then poked his head around the corner of the shed to find Mr. Murphy looking for him. “I’m here, Mr Murphy,” he said, stepping out.

“What’re you doin behind there, lad?”

“Just needed some privacy, I don’t like pigs… I mean cops.”

“It doesn’t matter, you still have to talk to him, and he needs to ask you some more questions.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sledge followed Mr Murphy inside.

The officer looked up from the couch as they entered the lounge. “Have you managed to get a hold of everyone?”

“Almost all, just...” Sledge swore. He’d forgotten Beth.” He pulled out his phone, getting her on the fourth ring. After relaying the message, Beth started babbling hysterically, asking where Dante and Ash were. “Heading for Craven’s. Look, I can’t talk right now, I’ve gotta go, just don’t go near the house. Chaz may not come back, but the pigs don’t want anyone gettin’ in the way if he does.” Sledge hung up before she could reply.

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