Page 58 of Secrets of Riverside

‘Millie, I know.’ In all his years, he’d never felt his heart beat so fast and so hard.

Her gaze turned suspicious. ‘You know what?’

‘I know.’ That’s all he felt he needed to say.

‘You know, hey … interesting.’ She turned her cheek and took a moment. When she looked back at him, her lashes were heavy with tears and her lips were parted as if a question she didn’t want the answer to lingered there.

He clasped his hands atop the table. ‘Go on, ask me anything you want to, and I promise I’ll be totally upfront.’

She drew in a deep, sharp breath. ‘Ask you what?’ She shook her head.

Wow, she was really sticking to her guns. ‘I can see it, Mills, with the way you’re looking at me.’ He offered a resigned sigh. ‘You want to know who I really am, don’t you?’

She paused, and her expression bunched as if she were looking inward, somehow searching for the right answer. And then her eyes widened and she gasped while studying him. He forced the long-ago echoes of her cries for help from his mind, along with the blood-curdling screams of her family. He ached to tell her he was the one who’d saved her. He ached to tell her his side. More than ever, he ached to console her, to somehow put her mind at ease. But the truth of who her father really was would likely shatter her even more, so that meant it would inevitably be more lies, and he couldn’t do that to her. She deserved to know the truth of what happened and why. But he just couldn’t bring himself to break her heart even more. Damn his father and what he’d done from the confines of prison. Damn him to hell!

Don’t do it, King. Do not pull her into your arms and tell her everything. Protect her.

‘Millie, please talk to me.’ He went to touch her hand, but she jerked it away.

‘Don’t touch me.’ Her gaze was fierce, storming with raw emotions as she shot to her feet and her chair tumbled backwards. ‘I think it’s about time you told me who you really are.’

Guilt twisted in his chest. He’d seen her like this before. Way younger than now. Terrified yet fighting for her life. Emotions collided inside his heart: shock, anger with himself, love for her, fear, blame, shame. And that was right about when his perfectly manufactured world seemed to crack and crumble beneath his feet.

***

Without outwardly admitting anything, Jarrah had dropped a bombshell. Millie’s head was spinning with possibilities, and her racing heart was making it hard to draw a breath. Appearing at her side, Scruff nudged her hand. She instinctively comforted him by ruffling his ears as she tried to make herself believe that there was nothing untoward going on. That this wasn’t about her pregnancy, their baby. That the letter wasn’t at play here. That Jarrah had been nothing but open and honest with her. That she was overreacting. She needed to get a grip, take a breath, and let everything fall into place, as the priest had told her to do. So she leant against the wall for support and waited for Jarrah to speak, to ask, or to confess. So many secrets, they each had. God only knew what he was about to tell her.

‘Jarrah, come on, for god’s sake, spill.’

‘All right.’ He held up his hands. ‘Just give me a minute, would you, because I only want to say this once, and in the right way.’

There was a part of her that couldn’t shake the sense that she was going to regret her need to hear what he had to say, but her desperation for the truth, and to be truthful, was stronger. There was so much at stake here. She knew that. Having spent the last twenty-four hours knowing a part of him was growing inside her, her mind had painted a picture of what she wanted him to be, what she wanted them to be. Why had she been such a fool to allow the walls she’d built around her heart to crumble enough for him to reach inside of her?

Jarrah was out of his chair now, pacing with his head in his hands, as if he was trying to collect his scattered thoughts. As she watched and waited, she felt as if a storm was building inside her, with hot and cold fronts moving in from all sides. It was unsettling, worrying, heartbreaking, suffocating. Whatever bridge they’d built during their time together was now officially burnt, leaving her on one side and him on the other. They’d been so connected and now they were on opposite sides, with so much left unsaid between them. She swore, if the truth didn’t come out, in one way or another, she was going to drown. And then, as if it were an epiphany, something dawned on her and she really saw him. Tipping her head, she watched the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. She glowered at the scar on his left cheek – one that would be left behind after a bad burn. And then she saw it, the yellow envelope with her name scrawled upon it, stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans.

Storming in front of him, she stood ramrod straight, with her heart racing a million miles a minute. ‘You were the one that went to prison for killing my family, aren’t you?’ Her eyes pleaded with him for the truth.

Jarrah’s lips clamped into a thin line and emotions rampaged in his eyes. It was within his silence that the truth reached out and hit her with striking velocity, and her heart ached at the evidence. ‘You’re a lying son of a bitch.’

‘Millie, please, let me explain.’ He reached out to touch her, possibly to reassure her, but she stepped back. ‘I had nothing to do with their deaths, you have to believe me.’

‘Don’t, Jarrah.’ She was surprised at how normal she sounded given the fact that her heart was shattering into a million tiny little fragments. ‘If you were there that night, and you went to prison, it’s clear to me that you had everything to do with their deaths.’ Her tears broke loose and tumbled down her cheeks as red-hot rage burst into a flood of raw emotion. ‘With every fibre of my being, I hate you,’ she roared, every word full of venom, full of fury, full of heart-wrenching pain. ‘And I never, ever, want to see you again.’

CHAPTER

20

Millie was only half listening to the drone of the newsreader’s voice as she wriggled restlessly in the seat that was now stuck to her. On autopilot, other than stopping for fuel and a bottle of water she’d driven straight through Queensland. But now, nearing the New South Wales border, her head was pounding, and her heart seemed to be joining in. The clutch stuck for the umpteenth time, and she swore out loud as she pumped it while jamming the gear from fifth into third as she approached the T-intersection. Pulling to a stop, she looked left to right. A kangaroo bounded past on the side of the road, startling her. She had to take a moment to catch her breath. With her headlights igniting the road sign, she read the kilometres she had left – eight hundred and fifty-seven. Oh. My. God. With every muscle aching, she felt as if she’d been wound into a knot. She was carrying precious cargo, so she needed to stop. Now.

Less than two minutes later she was pulling up at a roadside motel. Turning off the ignition, she peered through her dusty windscreen at the glowing sign stating there were vacancies. Thank goodness, because if she drove another kilometre, she was sure she’d fall asleep at the wheel. Glancing at her reflection in the rear-view mirror, she cringed. With mascara smeared beneath her red-rimmed eyes, and her hair looking like she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket, she looked like death warmed up. Grabbing a wet wipe, she dabbed at her cheeks. Then, undoing her knotty bun, she tried to tug her hair into some kind of respectable order. Satisfied she’d achieved looking somewhat normal – even though her life was far from normal – she turned and grabbed her handbag from the back seat, then, pushing her door open with her foot, she climbed out. A bell jingled as she stepped into the cool air-conditioned office that looked as if it was stuck in the eighties. A massive tabby cat lifted its head from the corner of the desk, instantly reminding her of Felix the second. Oh, if she could cuddle him to her right now.

‘Can I help you?’ came a voice right before an elderly woman appeared from behind a curtain.

‘I’d like a room for the night, please.’ Millie did her best to focus on the lady with huge glasses instead of the flowered wallpaper lining almost every inch of the room.

The woman shifted her glasses up her nose as she ran her gaze from the top of Millie’s head to the toe of her sandals. ‘Is it just for you?’ She peered past her as if trying to see if there was another person in the car.

‘Yes, just me.’

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