I Will Not Run (14 page)

Chapter 18

Bruno

I crunched the beer can in my hand and then biffed it onto the wooden boards. It bounced along the floor of my study until it crash landed against the back of the door.
The bitch. She was scum, just like the rest of them
. I closed my eyes and thumped my forehead with my closed fists.

How could she do this to me? How? I watched that sodding film through, right to the end. Twice! There was no misunderstanding it. The film was clear enough. Winter was betraying me, carrying on with that bastard Dominic, and right under my nose too.

I knew I should stay calm but my heart was trying to bust its way out of my chest. One more time, I’d go through that film again once more, segment by segment, and pause it every time he put his groping arm around my wife. What upset me most was that sappy look on her face, like she was waiting to be kissed, begging for it. And even worse, just before the film ended, he obliged.

Nope, I wasn’t standing for this. I slammed my fist down onto the desk. “That’s my bloody wife you’re sucking on.”

The bitch, she didn’t try to push him away or protest. Not one word. If anything, she’d encouraged him. The slut. I slammed the lid on my laptop shut. The room was spinning and turning into our old kitchen at home.

My father’s face, it was there again, in my head, just like it was at night when I fell asleep.

He was laughing again.
No woman’s going to be faithful to dog-shit like you.

He’d make me repeat that line, too. I didn’t have a choice. It was a case of doing what he said, or suffering. I realise what the old arsehole was up to now. He was blaming me because Mum walked out on him. My mum was one in a long line of unfaithful women. Who’d blame her for cheating on my dad? Mum was too beautiful, too precious and delicate, like a little wild flower growing in the desert. I would have taken a hundred beatings to protect her, back then. And yeah, I did help her to pack her bags and run. I wanted her safe.

I stayed with the old man because Mum said to stay, she said she’d come back to get me.

She never did of course, women don’t.

I knew by time I was twelve that she’d lied. On my thirteenth birthday, I promised myself that none of the old man’s crap would ever come true. Women would love me. They wouldn’t run away. I would have respect.

And now, here I am, a forty-five-year-old man, on top of his game. I won’t let that thirteen-year-old-lad inside me down. I made him a promise and I intend to keep it.

Luckily for her, my bitch-wife is out of the house. She’s down by the dogs today, chatting up Ant. Just as well because I wouldn’t be able to walk past her and hold myself back. But she’s not getting away with this. I’ll punish her, make no mistake. She has to be punished so that she knows never to play up again. The old man can’t be right about anything.

Yep, I know exactly what I have to do.

I jumped into my truck and sped off. I had all the way there to formulate my plan, all the way into Galston Township. This wasn’t a rash move on my part. Nope. There’s a solid reason for everything I do. I can justify every time I’ve raised my hand to her. On this occasion, I’ll need to be particularly clever. I don’t want the cops nabbing me, because I’m not the one that needs to pay. This has to look like an accident.

I was there in no time, at least that’s the way it seemed. I had so many plans and accusations and anger running amuck in my head, that I didn’t even notice the drive over the gorge.

Of course I wasn’t silly enough to park outside her house. My truck is top of the range and way too distinctive. I’ve got new plates too, and the nosy country folk around here would notice that detail. So I chose to park behind the old shoe factory instead, where no one goes.

It was a bit of a hike to the mother-in-law’s house but that was okay, it gave me more time to go over the plan.

The mother-in-law lives in one of those plain brick boxes. Best part about her house is the tall plastered wall in front. It’s high and offers great cover. No one walking along the street can look in. So that means no one will see me ring the doorbell either.

I rang it, again and again.

At last the old girl heard and yelled out, “Coming, hold your horses.”

I gave the bell a few more blasts before racing around the side of the building. The bathroom window is quite low down so it’s easy enough to climb through, and she never locks it properly.

Winter’s mother suffers from vertigo or something like that. There’s a word for her condition, some disease, but I can’t remember it now. All I know is that it starts with the letter M. She’s going deaf too. Her deafness has something to do with the disease I think.

I pulled the window wide open and climbed through, and even though I made a racket, I was confident that she wouldn’t hear me. I listened to the scuffing sound of her slippers on the carpet. She was making her way toward the front door. From the bathroom, it was easy enough for me to creep into the laundry then across her narrow hallway. I treaded, softly as I could behind her, like a giant looming shadow with payback on its mind.

“Are you still there?” she called out, but her voice wasn’t loud enough for anyone outside to hear.

Slow as an invalid, she crept forward, towards the front door. Hard to believe that she’s only forty-eight. Yep, Marion is only three years older than me.

I ducked out of sight, had to because Marion was going so slowly. When she finally made it to the back of the door, she peeked through her spy hole first. Of course no one was standing on her front porch. Just to make sure though, she pulled the front door open wide. The stupid bitch even stepped out onto the porch to have a better look. Could she have made it any easier for me?

I snuck outside too, standing right behind her, and she never noticed me. I almost laughed. She looked left, then right, and was about to turn and head back in, so I made my move.

I shoved her hard and she fell head first, down the top step and then rolled like a bag of rubbish, crunching against each concrete step on her way to the bottom. I expected her to cry out and moan and all that carry on, but no, not a peep. Instead, she just lay there, still as stone.

Just think, I could have ended up married to that old bag. I wanted to, way back in my high school days. I took her out for years, splashed the cash like I usually do, but she dropped me anyway. They say that your first love cuts deepest, and I reckon that there’s something in that saying. I loved Marion more than all the others. I would have married her too, quick as blinking but she tossed me away like I was as worthless as her rubbish slippers. She’s paid for her mistakes, I’ve made sure of it. I got even, then some.

She didn’t think I was good enough back then, so I showed her. I married her daughter. Ha, that had to hurt. Now, that’s what you call payback. Of course I had a hand in the fall of her youngest daughter too. That was a case of business and pleasure combined. Yep, Marion has paid and paid for her mistake. Dumping me cost her the lives of her two daughters.

I stepped over Marion’s body and sauntered down the path, my hands in my pockets like I had every right to be there. Her pebbled driveway wound onto the street and I followed it, all the way to the factory, to my waiting truck. Too easy.

If you’d behaved yourself, Winter, I might not have thrown your mum down the stairs
.
It was a last minute decision, hurting Marion today, and you have to take the blame for that Winter, you pushed my hand.

My blimmin’ wife is lucky she stopped at one kiss. If I’d caught her doing more, then I would have been seriously pissed off.

Chapter 19

Dominic

I drove along the gorge road, taking it slowly, cautiously, like a learner driver in dad’s new car. Of course I wanted to plant my foot but it wasn’t worth the risk. The last thing I needed was to be road-raged or raced by a young guy keen to test his skills. If I had any sort of accident, chances were, the police would be called and that was the worst scenario possible for me. How the hell would I explain away the huge bag of heroin that was stuffed inside my case? Geez, I was having trouble explaining it to myself.

But, as I kept reminding myself, I had good reason for what I was doing. I loved Winter, loved her utterly and completely so of course I’d be prepared to put myself at risk to help the person I loved most in the world. I realise now that I’ve always loved her, and always will. If I can’t save my better half then what use am I?

But it was still nerve-racking, risking my career and everything I’ve built. I look at it like this, it’s not every day I’ll get the chance to help so much.

I just wish my hands would stop shaking.

I slipped through their fortress style stone gates and then crawled up their winding steep driveway. No sign of Bruno’s truck, thank heavens. Winter said he was out, but it was still a relief to see him gone. This was a good omen.

I parked my car, arse pointed at the house, and my nose heading down the driveway. I left the doors unlocked too because I might just need a swift getaway.

I took slow, determined steps, forcing my feet forward, steady and calm, past the herb garden, past the shaped poplar trees, past the weeping cherry then up the front steps.

I slipped around the side and down to the smaller door that opened into the kitchen. Yep, it was unlocked. You would think they’d be security conscious now, considering they had a break-in a couple of months back, but no, nothing has changed. Winter and Bruno are as slack as each other. Neither of them bothers to lock the door. I suspect that Winter isn’t security conscious because, for her, the demon lives inside the house. And Bruno, well, he’s gotten too big for his boots. He doesn’t believe that someone would dare steal from him, even though he has been broken into. I guess he figures that no one would try it a second time. Maybe he’s right. I’m not here to steal, I’ve come to give rather than take.

“Hello,” I cried out in a quiet voice, willing no one to be home. “Is anyone in? Winter, are you there? It’s me, Dom.”

No response. Good. So let’s get this over with. I slunk cat-like into their bedroom, found the small safe, the safe they no longer used, not since the break in and turned the handle. Just as I expected, it wasn’t locked either. I unzipped my carry-all, grabbed the bag of heroin in my gloved hand and shoved it into the little safe.

I closed the door over, making sure I left it just as I found it, then dashed out of the bedroom.

Well, that was easier than I thought. I whipped my shooting gloves off and shoved them into my carry-all, backtracked my steps, going out the way I came in, closing the kitchen door quietly behind me. With a big exhaled breath and a lot more confidence, I strode down over the hill, heading in the general direction of the pond.

No one could prove a thing.

It was a beautiful morning. Perhaps I shouldn’t feel so buoyed-up but the sun was out, Bruno was gone, and Winter was waiting for me down by the water. Everything was going to plan.

I spotted her under the huge weepy nut tree, the one with the built-in bench seat. It’s a walnut I think. She was sitting there, looking like someone out of a chocolate ad, alluring and delicious. She waved as soon as she saw me, gesturing for me to join her. I shook my head and pointed further down, meaning that I’d rather we got right away from the house. I didn’t want Bruno’s home looming up at me, from any angle. She nodded, knowing that I preferred to be near the main gate.

She rushed up, her eyes fresh and sparkling, and kissed me on the cheek. I clasped her hand, enclosing it in both of mine, pulling her past the dog kennels, down to the bottom of the property to where the gardener’s potting shed is.

“How’s your mum doing?” I asked.

She led me to the rise on the hill so that we could sit on the grassy slope and look down on the valleys below.

“She’s much better now, thanks. The doctor says she’s out of danger. But since the accident, Mum can’t taste or smell anything. I thought she was exaggerating at first and then I thought she’d eventually get her tastebuds back but the doctor told me that a blow to the back of the head can do that. It’s permanent. Apparently, if you get hit hard on the back of the head, you can lose your sense of smell and taste forever. It means that she can’t taste anything she’s eating.”

“Yeah, that’s horrible. But her accident could have been so much worse.”

Winter pulled on my arm, forcing me to stop. “It was an accident, right? It was her Meniere’s disease, wasn’t it? Her Meniere’s made her giddy and that’s why she fell down her front steps. That’s what you think too?”

I shrugged. “What does your mum say?”

She looked down at the grass. “Mum can’t remember anything. She has no idea why she was even out on her front porch, let alone why she fell.”

I could hear it in Winter’s voice, she was begging for reassurance. Winter wanted me to say that her mum’s accident was indeed an accident and nothing more sinister.

She lifted my hand and pressed it against her heart. “You don’t think Bruno had anything to do with Mum’s fall, do you? Please say no.”

I bit my lower lip. That was exactly what I thought. I’d bet my life on Bruno being involved, in some way. And that was why I’d made my decision, why I’d done what I did today. But now that I’d planted the evidence, it was time to clear out and let the cops do the rest.