Page 159 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Chapter Fifty-One

Jerry

Four hard wraps onthe door sends Pirate into a barking frenzy. Whilst it’s been a month since Mum and I had words, I’d truly hoped she’d try patch things up before now.Is this her?

I shift the lounge room curtain across and find a shiny black Tesla parked beside my truck. After spending most of Saturday outside, I’m dead on my feet and in no mood for visitors.

The timber door protests on its hinges as I open it wide.

A tall blond man in a dark suit stands at the edge of the porch, hands on hips, eyeing his vehicle.

“G’day,” I say and square back my shoulders. I step through the dusty screen door to get a better look at him. Is this guy a lawyer or something? Has the guy changed his mind about pressing charges?

He turns and positions his sunglasses on top of his head, then slips his phone into the breast pocket of his jacket. By the lines at the side of his eyes he looks to be in his mid to late thirties.

“Can I help ya?”

He eyes me up and down and stares beyond me at the entry to the house. “I’m lookin’ for Liv.”

The guy says her name with some familiarity. The hair on the back of my neck pricks up.Is this the guy?

Acid lingers at the back of my throat. I swallow.Relax. This fucker could be anyone. Liv’s been doing so much for the business; this schmuck could be anyone.

“She’s tied up right now. Can I do somethin’ for ya?”

He wipes his finger under his nose and sniffs. “Doubt that, mate.”

“Like I said—” My jaw tightens. “—she’s tied up. Gimme your number and I’ll get her to call you.”’Cause there’s no way you’re coming inside my house to wait for her.

“I’ve come a long way.”

It’s fuckin’ him.

I grit my teeth, ready to push this fucker off my porch.

“What was Pirate barking at?” Liv calls out in the distance.

Fuck. This is happening. There’s no stopping this meet now.

I know I wanted this. Standing in front of this cocky smirking son-of-a-bitch has me wanting to smash his face in, so perhaps I didn’t think this through.

“Jerry?”

I turn as Liv walks closer, a long slinky slip clings to every curve. Head tipped to the side, she towel-dries her damp hair.Jesus H. Christ.

“Damn,” he says on an exhale.

My head swings in his direction as his eyes grow wide.Say another fuckin’ word and your arse is mine, friend.

Liv gasps. “I-It’s you.”

---