One Way Or Another You Will Pay (11 page)

Dejected,
I let him go.

Ingrid
Felix, I want to get to know you.

****

Bear spends most of the day installing a state-of-the-art security system, complete with video surveillance and recording motion detector cameras.

He
works quietly, not talking much, only stopping to seek out little Savannah now and then, and give her a hug or whisper in her ear.

She
just gives him a beautiful grin and pushes him away.

Sometimes,
I catch his eye but he looks away, to my disappointment.

That
same afternoon, a truck rolls up and begins installing security bars on all the windows. Heavy, thick metal that requires brute strength to dislodge them. Security gates, with slam-shut locks are also installed on all doors.

Another
company installs a brick wall around our 1000 square meter property. Remote wrought iron gates with metal spikes and video announcing is added.

Bear
spends a fortune on security and covers every single avenue.

The
place is rigged such, that at night, if someone steps close to our house, five

really
bright spot lights switch on and our mobile phones ring.

Our
home, thanks to Tom, is now a fortress. It makes me feel safe but also saddens me.

See,
I’ve been living in Sydney’s North Shore for approximately eight years and I absolutely love it here.

Green,
leafy, with wide roads and neighbours who always give you way with a smile.

A
peaceful place to bring up children.

We’ve
never been broken into, never had any problems with the neighbours, and most houses around us don’t have security systems or security bars.

But
we, the Shaws, we now live like we’re Columbian drug lords. All we need is electric fencing, a guard with a machine gun and the picture will be complete.

Tom’s
not the only one in prison, I think to myself. Even though he’s behind bars, he’s still remote controlling my life, still causing me to look over my shoulder.

You
win, Tom.

****

Bear and I are seated in front of Captain Warner at the police station.

That’s
the same Captain Warner who Bear worked under for years. The one who visited me in prison to convince me that Bear wasn’t the shyster I thought he was.

Even
though Bear quit the police force, he is still friends with his former work mates and Captain Warner, who is due to retire soon.

Recently,
Bear helped Captain Warner with surveillance on his daughter’s long-term boyfriend, who was reluctant to set a wedding date and disappeared for days at a time.

With
surveillance, Bear discovered he was about to marry a wealthy older woman, while stringing Captain Warner’s daughter along. Of course, it turned ugly and resulted in the boyfriend’s jaw being broken.

So,
Captain Warner owes Bear a favour or two.

“Shaw,”
Warner says, “we can’t just question her because of the colour of her hair, you know that. But, we’ve quietly checked her out. She lives with her two children and has no pets. If you remember, we found dog hairs on Savannah’s clothes. Poodles, we think. Ingrid doesn’t have animals. No white Mazda, either. For us to question her, to secure a warrant to search her place, we need more.”

Bear
and I nod, as he speaks.

“What
we do know though is that she works in Tom’s block. Our sources tell us they are tight. In other words, there is something going on, but how do we prove it?

They
are tight. Okay!

“Okay,”
Bear says, “we’ll get you more.”

“You
do that,” Warner says.

We
spend another thirty minutes with Captain Warner before we leave him and walk in silence to our car.

I
smile to myself.

“What?”
Bear asks. “Why you smiling?”

I
look at him. “In less than a month, we have a suspect in Savannah’s kidnapping. I feel it in my bones. She’s our person, Bear.”

“And?”

I turn to look at him. “It’s her! I just have to get close to her. Somehow.”

He
grunts something inaudible and gets into our SUV. But he doesn’t start the car. Looking ahead, he shakes his head. “How the hell can she put her job on the line by helping a prick like him? What about her two children if she goes to prison? If it’s her, that is.”

“Tom
can be very convincing, Bear. He’s the kind of man who can start a movement like Scientology.”

Bear
bristles. “Fucking dickhead!” he mutters as he reverses. “I’d like to pay him a visit. I really would. Just him and me. Pity I won’t have the opportunity.”

I
say nothing, I just stare out the window.

“You
know, maybe we made a mistake. Maybe it was Tom we should have…” He fashions his forefinger and thumb into the shape of a gun. “Yeah, a strong possibility I would have gone to prison but Arena, I tell you, it would be so worth it. At least you guys would have been safe from him.”

I
nod. “Before I met you, I often thought that way. I’d be behind bars if I killed him but Warren would always be safe from Tom. But then you came along.” I smile and reach to touch his face.

He
moves it out of reach. Jerks it away.

Never
before has Bear ever done that – blatantly rejected my touch. I stare at him, stunned by his move.

“Sorry,”
he mutters.

Too
late. My eyes smart with tears.

“Sorry,”
he repeats in a kinder voice.

I
don’t answer, but my bottom lip trembles.

Bear
pulls over to the shoulder of the motorway, kills the engine, and reaches to take me in his arms.

Even
though he holds me tight and tries to right things, I feel his anger and disappointment in his touch. I know Bear, I know his touch.

My
disappointment in him morphs into anger and I stiffen in his embrace.

“Arena,
I…”

I
shake him off. “Go to hell!”

He
stares at me, surprise all over his face. “Arena!”

I
jerk away from him. “No, fuck you, Bear! I did what I needed to do, it spiraled out of control and yes, I caused it. I caused it, Bear, and I take RESPONSIBILITY! But you know what, Bear? I learned that I am not heartless, I’m not soulless, okay? I CARE. No matter what people do to me, no matter how much they hurt me, I will
always
be empathetic, I will always be kind! I will never change because someone threw evil my way, okay? And if you want to hold
that
against me, then go fuck yourself, BEAR! Really. Seriously. I am Arena, this is me, I will stay true to me, okay? If you don’t like it, then go fuck yourself!” With tears running down my cheeks, I fling open the door, storm out of the car, and walk in the opposite direction to …
nowhere
, really.

Bear
runs after me. “Arena, stop! Just stop!”

I
ignore him and continue walking.

Well,
I guess I can tick off '
Major
meltdown’
from my
to-do
list. We have never fought like this before.

Strangely,
I feel lighter.

“I
don’t know how to deal with this!” he says to my back. “I’m struggling with it, okay?”

I
stop walking and turn around to look at him.

“I’m
sorry,” he says, shoulders hunched, his face etched with misery. It’s the first time since Savannah’s disappearance that I’m really looking at him.

He’s
lost a lot of weight, his face is gaunt, his hair is disheveled, and he just looks …lost.

We
stare at each other in silence as cars whiz past us, some honking their anger at our illegal parking.

Bear
throws out his hands. “I think about leaving, just taking the kids and going, but I know you won’t let me take them. Then, I think about going on my own, but I can’t leave you guys alone. You seeing Tom, getting dressed for your…your
date
with him, Arena, spending hours with just him…? I feel like you’ve been unfaithful to me. I know it isn’t true, but it’s how I feel.” He thumps his chest with his fist, his eyes full of tears. “I’m a man, Arena; it affects me. More than it should, and I can’t…I just…” he shakes his head, “….man, Arena…”

“It’s
not a date, Bear,” I say in a quiet voice.

“It
is
a date, Arena.” His voice is adamant. “Every fortnight, my wife dresses in red, puts her hair up and visits her ex, where they spend about three hours talking about …?” He raises his hands to the skies. “When that happens, I feel this small.” He holds his thumb and forefinger close to each other. “He’s taken away my power, Arena, and I feel helpless. He’s in our home, he’s in our lives, and I can do fuck all about it and you…”

He
doesn’t complete his sentence, he doesn’t have to.

…
you brought him into our lives.

“I
don’t know how to fix this, Arena.” He stares at me, while I stare at the ground.

Slowly,
my breathing returns to normal. I look up at him.

He
jerks his head toward the SUV.

I
walk toward it, get inside, and shut the door.

He
starts the car and drives off. This is where we should be apologizing to each other, profusely at that, affirming our love for each other as we hug it out, promising between kisses never to let Tom inside our marriage again.

But
that doesn’t happen.

We
drive in silence, the wedge between us now an echoing abyss.

It’s
Friday. Time to see Tom again.

When
it comes to my dress, I choose carefully. My dress is scarlet with a low cowl neckline, and a small front slit.

Although
I need to pin up my hair, because of Bear’s constant scowl since he awoke this morning, probably because it’s my day to visit Tom, I leave my hair loose.

Before
I walk into the kitchen to take care of my kids, I slip on a tan, cashmere cardigan to hide the top of my dress. No use irking Bear further.

When
I enter the kitchen, he’s feeding Savannah her cereal.

When
he sees me, he pauses with his feeding, his eyes sweeping slowly over me.

“Want
some coffee?” I ask, flinching under his gaze.

“No!”
he snaps.

Okay.

“Gotta go!” he mutters and plants kisses on the kids’ heads, before he strides out of the house.

I
walk to the entrance of the garage, stand with my arms folded across my chest, and watch him.

When
he sees me, we lock eyes for a moment.

“Every
fortnight, my wife dresses in red, puts her hair up and visits her ex, where they spend about three hours talking about …?”

He
tears away his eyes, starts the SUV and reverses out of the garage, ignoring my presence.

With
a weary sigh, I walk myself back to my kids.

****

As I did the last time, just before I see Tom, I pin my hair up and apply some peach-flavored lip gloss. After taking a deep breath, I make my way to him.

“You’re
late,” he says, a surly expression on his face.

“I’m
just twenty minutes late!” I snap. “I have three children to send to school and daycare.”

“Two
children,” he says.

“Three,”
I argue childishly.

As
he stares at me, he licks his lips, his eyes half-mast. “Take off your cardigan.”

I
look at the ground and scratch my nose. “No.”

“Take
it off. Now.”

Slowly,
I remove my cardigan and place it over my lap.

He
nods as his eyes sweep over me. “I wanna fuck you.” His voice is barely a whisper.