I Will Not Run (4 page)

Chapter 5

Dominic

I ran up the waterfall of steps that lead into the Health Centre
.
Annabelle from the floor above us was there on the landing, holding the door wide open for me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was no coincidence. She arrives just ahead of me, most mornings. We’re always riding the lift together, and too often we’re alone.

She smiled my way and held on to the glass door.

“Cheers,” I said, replacing her hand, and gesturing for her to go through first.

“How
are
you today, Dominic?” There was definitely a hint of sexy in her voice. Was she flirting?

“Never better,” I lied and pressed the upward button on the elevator. Thankfully, a crowd came streaming through the double doors, saving me from a tense ride alone with her. It can take forever to get to the eighth floor, the floor that belongs to us. Thank goodness for the nurses, office workers, and doctors rushing in, pushing us against the back wall. I was in no mood to make polite conversation with anyone, especially not with Annabelle. Well, actually, I wanted a conversation with Jack, but no one other than him.

Friggin’ hell, was Jack working today? I couldn’t remember. The other doctors in my practice work every day but Jack’s a bit older than the rest of us and he has clinics in other places so he’s only rostered on for three of the five days. Sometimes those days switch and change. I watched the buttons light up as we climbed floors.

The lift pinged when we hit eight, the lift doors opened and I darted out. I didn’t look back.

Hannah was behind the reception desk, as always.
Does the
woman live here or what?
I raised my brow in welcome then bolted down the hallway.

That silhouette looked like Jack to me. I studied the outline through the frosted glass door: thick-set, solid grey, definitely male. I didn’t knock, didn’t need to because it was too early for patients. We never saw anyone before nine.

I leaned on the oversized steel handle with way too much force. The door whooshed open in a rush.

Geeze, I needed to calm myself down. I’d snapped at my favourite barista this morning because he’d forgotten to add sugar and considering I like the guy and no one in Sydney makes better coffee, it was a pretty dumb thing to do. Then, I’d shoved my way through the hordes pouring from the train station, almost pushing everyone out of my way.

I needed more sleep. I reckon I only got two or three hours, at best. There’s nothing worse than tossing and rolling the night away, watching the clock tick round.

All night long, I couldn’t shake those images away, couldn’t get them out of my head. I kept picturing Bruno and Winter together. Why’s everything worse in the middle of the night? I pictured her lying in hospital, beaten and barely alive.

It was a relief when the first rays of morning poked through the blinds. I showered and dressed and tried to conjure up a mental picture of the work roster. No matter how hard I tried though, I couldn’t visualise the square that represented today, the square that said who was rostered on to work. Was Jack? We’re a great group of doctors, I’m proud of us. We all get on well together and we do a good job too, but there’s only one Jack. God knows I could do with a dose of his wisdom right now.

Yesterday shouldn’t have come as a shock to me but it did. I don’t know why I’m taking it so hard. I knew Winter was married to that bastard. But I didn’t expect to find in-your-face signs of domestic abuse. I couldn’t miss her cheek. I wanted to slam Bruno one and break his nose for it. Honestly, I didn’t think she’d put up with that crap. She’s smart and tough. I imagined that, by now, she’d have become the dominant one in their relationship. But no, I got that very wrong. Sure, it would have killed me to find her loved up and happily married but I went expecting to find exactly that. Instead, I found
my
Winter stuck in an abusive marriage, scared and cowering. She’s in danger, she really is. Her marriage is way off the rails. Her life’s more messed up than any of the people who pay to see me.

I burst my way into Jack’s office.

He bolted upright, dropping a wad of paper onto the carpet. I’d caught him off guard. Instead of bending down to retrieve his stuff, he stared at me over the rims of his glasses.

“Dom,” he said and then his eyes scoured his desk top, searching for his coffee. He grabbed his cup then spun around, and placed the half-full mug behind him on the tray, safely away from the whirlwind that had just burst through his door. Did I really look that volatile, that chaotic?

I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets. “Geez, I’m not that bad.” I closed my eyes and fought for calm, and failed to find it. Bypassing the patient chairs, I crossed the room and claimed my spot in front of the giant office windows, the one that looks down onto Brighten Street below. People rushed about in every angle, all trying to get to work by the eight-thirty mark.

There was a woman hobbling along directly below Jack’s window, clearly in pain. She shouldn’t be walking on that leg. There’s always someone around in more pain than you are.

“Jesus, Dom. What the hell happened? You look like you’ve been through the wringer. I take it yesterday didn’t go well?”

I could feel fatigue burning behind my eyes. “You could put it like that.”

“Well, sit down, man. I don’t have an appointment till ten. Tell me. No, wait. You want a coffee first?”

“Had two already.” I closed my eyes again and forced my shoulders down.

Jack laced his fingers together and waited. Then he tapped both index fingers against his lips. Funny, I was desperate to talk before but now that I was here, I wasn’t sure where to begin. I knew that when I started, my old wounds would open.

“Well, what happened?”

I pressed my lips together. “It was wonderful and it was terrible. Being in Winter’s house, it was the strangest feeling. I felt like I’d been lost for years and finally found my way home.”

Jack removed his glasses, folded the little arms flat, then put his readers safely away in their case. “I see.”

I scratched my thumbnail against the inside of my palm, for want of something else to do.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to feel that way. So much for time taking care of things, and so much for marriage turning her into someone else! How’d we get that so wrong? Eleven years didn’t made a blind bit of difference. She’s still the same.”

I turned towards him, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the hint of accusation out of my voice. “She shouldn’t have been the same girl. I should have barely recognised her. People change a lot between eighteen and twenty-nine. She should have morphed into Mrs Bruno Camalari, the drug lord’s wife. I thought,
we thought
that time would have severed my tie. Shit”—I stroked my jaw—“time hasn’t healed a darn thing.”

Jack folded his newspaper into a neat little parcel before dropping it into the waste paper basket. He gestured towards the chair. “Sit down man. I’m going to order a pot of tea. Sounds like this might take a while.”

“Whatever.”

He pressed a button on his phone. “Hannah, tea, please. One pot and two cups. Remember the sugar.”

I slumped into the patient chair, the one I’d been carefully avoiding. Cradling my head in my hands, I said, “You should have seen her, Jack. She’s more beautiful now than she ever was. I’m not
just
as attracted to her now, I’m
more
attracted to her, more than ever. What a mess.”

I drew my knuckles across my eyelids as if I could wipe away my tension.

“She’s trying to be brave and determined even though she feels insecure and horribly vulnerable. That bastard hasn’t managed to break her spirit though. That fighting spirit is there in her still.”

I couldn’t sit in that chair a second longer so I jumped up again. “Winter is
mine
. Someone else has
my wife
.”

Jack raised his lined brow and looked directly at me. He was such a wise old owl. I wondered if he used that gesture on his patients.

“Dom,” he interrupted, “you know that’s not strictly true.”

I ignored his comment. “I’ve looked the other way for long enough. I won’t do it anymore. I’m done pretending. I’ve tried to blank her out. It doesn’t work.”

I levelled my eyes with his. “Damn it, I still love the woman. I’ve always loved her. The only difference is I won’t pretend otherwise any more. I’m done with that.”

Jack moved around his desk, right around to the front till he was as close to me as he could get. He shoved his papers and files aside and perched himself on the corner.

He sat looking away from me, his back curled in a casual unthreatening position. The tactic would have made me laugh, any other time, but not now. Actually, it was strangely reassuring.

“And how
is
Winter? Is she happy?”

“Happy? Are you serious? How could she be happy? She’s married to a low-life, a thug, a drug dealer. He’s beating her senseless.”

When Jack spoke again, I couldn’t help noting his quiet casual tone, as if he was trying to camouflage his comment, to soften the blow. “Yes, but does she love her husband?”

I didn’t like that question. It made my insides squirm and I did my best to hide my reaction. But I’m pretty sure my eyes narrowed into angry slits giving me away. “He needs to be locked up.”

Jack got up off the corner of the desk and moved towards the window so that he, too, could stare out over the city. Neither of us spoke. We stood together, and it was almost companionable. On his part, it was a deliberate show of support and that’s exactly what I needed.

I was the one to break the silence. “She’s scared of him, she really is. And I can’t let that go on any longer.”

Jack nodded. “I suppose she is scared. I’m presuming she’s too scared to leave?”

“Yep. At least I think that’s what’s going on, although she’s not admitting it yet. We’ve only met the once so I can’t be sure.”

My tiredness was really catching up with me now. My body felt like a dead weight. I slunk back toward the patient’s chair and huddled into it. I tried rubbing my temples but my headache stayed put.

“I’ve made up my mind,” I announced, surprising myself. “I won’t be walking away from this, no matter what she says. I won’t give up on her this time.” I couldn’t sit in that damn patient chair, just couldn’t.

“I’m going to get her out of there.” I think I’d made that decision hours ago but I refused to say it aloud, or even quietly to myself in my head.

Hannah pressed her back against the outside of the frosted glass door, trying to push it open without having to put her tea tray down. Jack jumped up and yanked on the handle. We waited while she poured two cups and then discreetly left.

Jack picked up the sugar bowl. “You know as well as I do, mate, Winter’s got to want to leave. There’s no getting her out of there otherwise.”

“I know that. I’ll just have to find a way to talk her round.”

Jack didn’t react immediately. Instead, he mulled over the plate of biscuits, turning them this way and that, as if they were rare gems and not the bog-standard supermarket type. At last he selected one and then held it up to his eye for close inspection. “And how are you going to manage that?”

I felt my body soften, as if I’d been very cold and suddenly the heat from the sun was finally sinking into my skin. I think there may even have been a thread of excitement in my voice when I said, “He’s a drug dealer. You know that, the police know it too. So how hard is this going to be, right? I’m going to get the cops interested in him. Simple. I’m going to give them due cause.”

Jack dropped his nibbled cream biscuit back onto his plate. “What are you on about, Dom? Don’t go meddling into his business. You’ve got a successful practice here to consider. We get plenty of work from all the cop stations this side of Sydney and beyond. Don’t go screwing with that.”

“Mate, you know me better. What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Actually, in this case, you could do anything.”

I waved his worries aside. “Bruno is bound to be involved in all manner of trouble. I just have to find out what that is. If I can blow suspicion his way, that might be enough. Maybe I’ll even manage to get him locked up for a while.”

For the first time all morning, I felt myself smile. “Imagine if I could get him thrown into prison. She’d come back to me then, I know she would.”

Jack gave me a full-on worried look.

“I’m going to get her back. Winter and I, we belong together. I’ve never be more sure of anything.”

He clicked his tongue, as if he was telling off a toddler. “She’s a married woman and you are a smart, successful, attractive young man. Find yourself another girl.” He pointed towards the reception area. “What about one of them, they all drool as you blindly walk past.”

I snapped at him, and I really didn’t mean to. “I’m having Winter.”

We sat there in silence, listening to the whine of the photocopier down the hall. I turned to face my loyal friend, and in a quieter more assured voice, said, “She’s going to be my wife.”

Jack tapped his index finger against his lips, his troubled eyes drifting into the distance.

“I hope this isn’t about winning?” he said.

I glared at him, stunned. How could he bring up my distant past, and throw it in my face like that? My school days had nothing to do with Winter and I. I could feel my lips curl in disgust and I’m darn sure he noticed. I couldn’t kept the contempt from my face either. I’d told Jack about my past in confidence, and I certainly didn’t want it thrown into my face at every opportunity. I turned, giving him my back, making myself clear, but he carried on regardless.

“I know how it was for you as a young lad. What were you, barely four years old when you were dumped into that morbid place? It’s survival of the fittest in boarding schools like that one you went to. Those institutions leave lasting effects. What was it again? Only the boys with the best made beds got to eat breakfast?”

“Not quite that bad,” I snapped.

He lowered his brow, knowingly, seeing through my attempt to brush him off.

“A perfectly made bed, that’s no small feat for a four-year-old lad. I bet the youngest children went hungry every morning.”

I didn’t respond. Silently, I resented being taken back there, to that time I tried so hard not to remember.

“And that was only the beginning, wasn’t it?” he continued, angering me more. “Only the fastest swimmer got a warm shower. Now, on a winter’s morning, icy water on bare young skin is akin to torture.”