Page 28 of The Reality of Us
Almost there.
“Here we go.” Owen pushed open the front door, and Phoenix missed the step, catapulting himself out onto the footpath.
A few locals stopped to watch, whispering amongst themselves. A group of tourists were seated outside the pub. Bags from Lulu’s Boutique and Swift’s were scattered around them, the table dotted with mimosas and pastries.
“Why is it so fucking bright out here?” Phoenix moaned, shoving a pair of oversized aviators onto his face. “That’s all her fault too. Alice!” he yelled and headed towards the café. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Owen watched from the doorway, dialling the Somers Gully police station. It was the biggest one in the area, servicing several of the surrounding districts. As luck would have it, his brother answered.
“Raff, it’s me.”
“Let me guess,” Rafferty said. “Mum put you up to this.”
“Uh, no? You know I don’t get involved in Mum’s schemes. This is a police thing—Phoenix Storm is drunk and causing a scene on High Street. He might be on something too. He’s headed towards the pub, looking for his ex.”
The weariness usually present in his older brother’s voice these days was heavier, probably because he was at work. “Alright, we’ll send a car over. Where’s Alice? Any ideas?”
“I’m trying to find her.”
Owen watched as Phoenix changed directions, heading for the park next to the school. Where the hell was she?
Alice bent over next to the drinking fountain, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The easy five kilometres she’d set out for had quickly morphed into a hard fifteen on the trails. But still, the noise in her mind lingered.
In the distance, a man called, “Aliiiiiiiiiiiice!”
Huh. That sounded an awful lot like—oh, no.
She straightened and brushed sweaty flyaways off her forehead. Phoenix ambled towards her, loping across the park like a toddler still learning to walk. A brown paper bag was clutched in one hand; the paper moulded to the bottle inside it.
Fight or flight kicked in, and she spun around. People were scattered around the park, relaxing on benches or in the shade of the big wattle trees. A group of mothers sat in a circle to her left, their babies resting on a patchwork of blankets in the middle.
She spied Owen hanging back. It was annoying how the sight of him calmed her.
Phoenix was a mess and not in the carefully arranged state of dishevelment he’d made his signature look. His dirty flannelette shirt was buttoned incorrectly, and he was wearing two different boots. Both were black, but only one had laces. He pushed his sleeve to his elbow, scratching his forearm. Alice frowned at the sores covering his skin. She was looking for needle marks when he yanked the fabric down and glowered at her. This was the man she’d married?
“Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” he snapped.
Alice looked over her shoulder, smiling in what she hoped was a friendly way at the mothers’ group. Like this was normal. “Lower your voice,” she hissed through her teeth.
Owen edged closer to where they were, but she held her hand up, stopping him in his tracks. She might be able to calm Phoenix down enough to get him to leave, but there was no way he’d listen to Owen. Not like this.
“Now you’re worried about what people might think?” Phoenix threw his arms wide, slipping in the grass as he lurched forward. “No one cares about you, Alice. That might change after I show them what I’ve got, though …”
Alcohol fumes and the tang of lemon made her stomach twist, but that was nothing compared to the fury that burnt through her body. How dare he bring up the stupid pictures he’d convinced her to take right after they were married? Saying he needed something to take with him on the road while he was touring. Alice wasn’t naked in them, but they were still more revealing than she’d been comfortable with. She could blame youth and naivety, but it was just another example of when Alice should have known better.
She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking.
“My tour’s been cancelled! Are you happy? The least you can do is give me the keys to my fucking house.”
She cleared her throat. Reminded herself she was in control, not her fear. Her skin heated, despite the dappled shade of the big trees. “It’s not your house. It never was.”
“Says who?” he spat, and Alice flinched, reaching for where she’d tucked her phone into her running tights. It was pointless to try and reason with him. When she tried to step around him, he mimicked her movements, blocking the sun, his tall build looming over her. The park was silent; not even the leaves were moving in the light breeze rolling through. She faked left before darting to the right. If she could get away from Phoenix, she’d call Chris to come and get him.
But her ex grabbed for her, his sweaty hands yanking at the straps of her running crop.
The smell of Owen’s cologne surrounded her. He thrust himself forward, his body shielding hers. “You need to step back, Mr Storm,” he said.
Something fluttered in Alice’s chest. She’d never heard Owen sound so authoritative. So … ice cold. So sexy.
