Welcome to Sugartown (27 page)

“
Hey, I’ll
have you know I’m excellent with my hands, and I’ve never had any
complaints in the sexy time department.”

I laugh.
“You’re brilliant plan was that we should convert to
lesbianism?”

She shrugs.
“I’ll try anything once.”

“
I think
that’s your problem.”

Holly grabs
the bottle and pours another round, “When did we get so pathetic,
Ana?”

“
When my
boyfriend—no, when my
ex
-boyfriend got carted off to
prison and yours up and left you for fame and fortune.”

“
Right.”
Holly throws back her shot and beats her chest while making a
coughing-wheezing sound that makes her sound like a decrepit old
woman. Then she immediately pours another and raises her glass to
me. “To men who fuck you over.”

I clink my
glass with hers. “To men who rip out your heart.”

“
To men and
their stupid, beautiful, unforgettable cocks.”

“
Amen.”

“
Have you
heard from him?”

“
No.”

“
Do you want
to?”

I sigh. I
don’t know why she asks me this, but every week it’s the same. I
want to forget him so badly. If it were possible to cut him out of
my heart completely, I’d do it. I’d do it and never look back, but
I can’t. So the ache and the longing just continue to build inside
me until I’m drowning in it: drowning in how much I miss him. How
much I still love him and how much I can never forget.

“
No,” I lie,
but I know even Holly doesn’t believe that.

“
Yeah, me
neither,” she says and pours us both another drink.

Two weeks
later I’m enjoying a lazy Sunday lie-in before having to make my
way over to the shop for more baking when the phone rings.
Apparently no one else is capable of picking it up, because it
rings out and then immediately begins ringing again. I throw back
my covers and dash for the kitchen, yanking the receiver from the
cradle before it cuts out again.

“
Hello?”

“
Ana.” It’s
Holly. Or at least I think it’s Holly; it’s hard to tell between
all the sniffling and sobbing.

“
Hols, what’s
wrong?”

“
I’m
pregnant.”

“
Uh …
ooooh
.” I slump onto a
stool at the breakfast bar and blink for a full minute before I’m
able to form a response. “Um, are you sure?”

“
I’m staring
at twenty sticks with pee on them all screaming positive. My boobs
hurt, I wanna simultaneously chuck my guts up and inhale a vat of
ice cream, oh and that condom that Coop said was still good after
he’d been carting it around in his car since the beginning of time
was not even fucking close to being
still
good
because I have his baby taking up
space in my uterus. So yeah, I’m pretty damn sure.”

“
Holy
crap.”

“
What am I
going to do, Ana?”

“
Hols, we’ll
figure this out. Just sit tight, I’m coming over.”

“
Okay.
Ana?”

“
Yeah?”

“
Bring ice
cream.”

“
Okay.” I
hang up the phone and stare at the countertop and the remnants of a
big Sunday cook-up that Dad’s left in the sink and I kind of want
to throw up myself. Then I shake off the shock as best as I can and
head back to my room. I throw on the first thing I see, yank my
hair back into a ponytail and dash out the door.

It’s not
until I’m making a beeline for the frozen produce aisle that I
remember why I’ve not set foot in this store in over two months.
The surreptitious glances, the sombre silence as I leave a trail of
gawking shoppers in my wake. It seems a couple of months aren’t
long enough for Sugartown residents to get used to the idea that
the town “whore” was in actual fact as pure as virgin snow, and
their beloved town sports star was a rapist scumbag. My bruises may
have healed on the outside but these people remind me daily of the
damage done on the inside with their stares and their weighty
silence.

I steel my
nerves, straighten my spine and avoid their gazes as I turn the
corner into the frozen foods section. There are two shoppers at the
end of the aisle but I don’t pay them any mind; I don’t even glance
in their direction. I just scan the freezer for Holly’s favourite
brand and dive in when I see one tub left at the very back. Twenty
seconds later I yank it free, and emerge from the cold covered in
goose bumps and come face to face with Scott.

The ice cream
falls to my feet and my heart leaps around inside my chest as I
take in his face and the chicken scratch on his
forehead.

RAPIST
.

Elijah’s
handiwork.

I’d heard
about it, of course. Between the town and my dad I’d known exactly
what Elijah had carved into his face, but that knowledge couldn’t
compare to seeing it firsthand. The letters are etched into his
skin with crude red scabs. It’s so disgusting and barbaric and yet
fitting, all the same. It’s obvious he’s growing out his hair in an
effort to hide it. Seems a stain that dirty should be imprinted on
his soul, not just his forehead. Still, I guess it does what Elijah
intended it to do, though that doesn’t make it any easier to see up
close.

“
Take one
more step and I’ll scream so loud I’ll bring this place down on top
of us.”

“
I’m not here
to hurt you,” he says holding up his hands in surrender. “Just
shopping with my mum.”

“
And
violating a restraining order, but then, the rules don’t really
apply to guys like you, do they?”

“
Ana, I’m
really sorry about what I did. I was drunk. I didn’t know about you
being …” I suck in a sharp breath and he peters off. I glance at
his mother who doesn’t even have the sense to pretend she’s not
watching this exchange like a hawk.

“
Did your
parents put you up to this?”

“
No, I
wanted—”

“
You think
you can smooth this over with an apology? Make it all go
away?”

“
That’s not
what I’m trying to do-”

“
Bullshit.
Let’s call this what it is—a last ditch effort to get me to drop
the case. Which, by the way, is never ever going to happen. You
might be walking around like a free man now, but when this trial
happens you’re going away for a long time.” I point my finger at
his forehead. “The man who did that happens to be in the exact same
prison you’re about to call home, and I’ll bet everything I have
he’s counting down the days until he sees you again.”

“
Ana—”

I turn on my
heel to walk away but Scott reaches out and grabs my arm. I rip it
out of his grasp and seethe. “Don’t you dare touch me, you filthy
pig.”

And then I
quickly walk away, holding my head high. I stalk past the gawping
faces of shoppers and past the cashier who’d been working that till
since I was five years-old and out into the midday sunshine of the
parking lot where my heart drops through my stomach and I promptly
fall apart.

“
Where’s the
ice-cream?” Holly asks as I step into her bathroom and quickly shut
the door behind me.

“
Probably
still on the supermarket floor,” I mutter and then elaborate when
she sends me a curious look, “I ran into Scott.”

“
Holy fuck,
Ana! Are you okay?”

“
Oddly, I
think I am. Or at least I will be.” I sit down beside her and she
leans her head on my shoulder before handing me a pregnancy test. I
glare at the little plus sign like it personally offends me. “So
you went and got yourself a Mini Coop, huh?”

She lets out
a humourless laugh at my terrible joke and bursts into tears. I
throw my arm around her shoulders. “Hey, we’ll get through this
together. We’ll get a house, sell pies by the side of the road and
raise this kid together.”

“
I’m not
keeping it,” she whispers.

“
You sure
this is what you want?”

“
Come on,
Ana, you really think I’m Mummy material?”

“
I think it
doesn’t matter what I think. If you want to do this, I’ll be there
with you. If not, I’ll help you look into your options.”

“
I already
made the appointment.”

“
When?” I
slide my fingers through hers and clasp her hand tight, the way we
used to do when we were little and our only worries in life were
running away from boys in the playground trying to catch us in a
game of catch-and-kiss.

“
Monday
week.”

“
I’m driving
you.”

“
Okay.” She
rests her head on my shoulder again and we stay like that until the
sky outside the window turns dark and her parents call us down for
dinner.

Chapter Twenty
Six

Elijah

My eyes dart
around the visitors’ room and I scan every face before finally
coming to rest on a familiar pair of clear, blue eyes, so much like
his daughter’s. Bob sits at a round table, his chunky arms folded
against his chest and a wistful smile on his face. I know he’s
thinking I wish he wasn’t sitting there alone, but when they said I
had a visitor today I wouldn’t let myself believe it would be her.
I’m not sure my heart could handle that hope being crushed once I
found out she hadn’t come. Still, it’s good to see a familiar
face.

I smile and
the cut on my lip opens up again. It’s probably a good thing she
hasn’t come. I’m already sporting a fat lip and a nasty cut over my
left eyebrow from the shit storm of a fight in the yard yesterday.
I don’t need to land myself in any more trouble, and beating the
other prisoners’ faces in for looking at my woman the wrong way
could see my parole offer for good behaviour revoked.

The guard
plonks me down in the seat opposite Bob and moves to stand near the
wall to watch over his band of criminals.

“
How you
doing, son?” Bob asks and his eyes zero in on my face.

“
Can’t
complain, no one would fucking listen.” I smile and hiss when my
lip opens up again.

“
They
treating you alright?”

“
What, this?”
I point to my face. “Just a couple of playground bullies. They got
theirs, and now they’re both in isolation. I’m keeping my nose
clean, though.”

“
Good, good.”
Bob nods. His eyes are unfocused, like he’s thinking long and hard
about something, and then he snaps his attention back to me and
says, “I brought you something.”

“
It’s not a
gorgeous blonde is it?”

“
No. But it’s
a picture of one.” He glances at the guard and indicates with his
hands that he’s going to pull something out of his pocket before
reaching in and placing three photos on the table before us. The
first is one of Sammy and Ana huddled on the couch, stuffing their
faces full of popcorn. Their attention is focused away from the
camera, it’s a candid side-on shot. Ana’s not wearing any make up,
her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she has
popcorn all down the front of her shirt, but there’s a smile on her
face that’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
Sammy’s head is in her lap and her hand rests gently against his
hair. There’s so much love in that one tiny gesture that my heart
practically splits open. I miss her so goddamn much.

The next
photo looks like it was taken immediately after the first. Ana’s
attempting to hide under a blanket while Sammy pulls it off of her.
Her face is contorted into a grimace, but it’s still as beautiful
as ever.

The third is
Ana alone. The light around her is grainy and quite a bit darker.
She’s asleep on the couch with her hand curled under cheek and her
face slackened in sleep. There’s the barest hint of cleavage on
display, her t-shirt is rucked up around her chest exposing her
flat stomach and the short shorts she’s wearing show every perfect
inch of her lean legs. She looks perfect and so completely fuckable
I feel my cock twitch in my pants. I shift uncomfortably, clear my
throat, and shoot Bob a questioning look.