Page 31 of Risk

I let the words flow, and I don’t stop until it’s all out there. My heart feels ten times lighter, and the relief is indescribable. When I finally look at Jamie, I don’t see pity, I just see the love of a good friend. She thanks me for trusting her with my truth, and as the tears well in my eyes, I climb onto her bed and hug her as best I can, while the tears fall.

When the nurse comes in a while later, I take that as my cue to step out to the bathroom. Scott is still where I left him earlier and follows me as I make my way to the toilet, the one Ryder cornered me in the other day.

I decide to nip down to the shop on the first floor in desperate need of junk food after the heavy conversation this morning. I tell Scott I’ll be fine, but he just ignores me and continues to be my shadow. There’s no sign of Russ, but before I get the chance to ask where he is, he comes barrelling round the corner and almost takes me out in the process. Russ offers a quick apology, and then I walk ahead of the two guys as they have a whispered conversation before leaving them at the entrance to the shop when I enter. Thank god for that. Five minutes without my shadows, it’s bliss. I take my time in the shop and come out with a bag full of shit that will go straight on my hips, but I honestly don’t care right now.

On our way back to the lift, we pass by a waiting area displaying the latest news report. The volume is down, but the subtitles talk about the body of an unidentified man discovered in a nearby hotel, along with a photo of the man and his car. Scott slows, watching the screen for a minute, his scowl remains in place, but there is a hint of what looks like recognition in his eyes. Russ carried on walking and is now waiting at the lift for us to catch up.

“Everything okay?” he asks, as we reach him. Scott gives a signature nod, and we enter the lift.

The clock in the lift shows it’s almost 4pm, and I can’t believe how late it is already. I know that visiting time will be over soon, and I’ll have to return to an empty apartment. So, I plan on making the most of the time I have with Jamie.

Jamie helps me demolish the contents of my haul from the shop, I even bought her a couple of magazines for after I leave. I relax on the bed next to her, rubbing my bloated belly and thinking I’d escaped Jamie’s interrogation about Ryder and me, but I was a complete fool.

“Come on, Cam, dish the dirt. There’s no chance I’ll be getting any dick anytime soon.” She wriggles her eyebrows at me, and when I scowl at her, her bottom lip turns down and tilting her head, she offers me pleading, puppy dog eyes. Huffing out a sigh, I climb off the bed, feeling that I need to be walking for this conversation.

“What do you want to know, Jamie? Does he make my fanny flutter?” I smirk at her. “Yes, every time he’s in the room. Does he fuck like he looks? Duh, yep, hard and fast. Beyond that I don’t have a fucking clue,” I admit, as I spin on the spot and face her. Then I remember her slip about a guy she’s been seeing. “And anyway, it sounds like you’ve been getting plenty of dick yourself?” I say, arching a brow and placing my hands on my hips.

“Nice try but this is not about me, besides, there’s nothing to tell. I met a guy, we hooked up a few times, and that’s it, just a booty call.” In all fairness, Jamie having a booty call is not a surprise. She’s never been one to shy away from the fact she likes sex and regularly hooks up with randoms. She shrugs before getting back to me. “Don’t be dense, Cam.” She waves a dismissive hand at me.

“I’m not being dense, Jamie. I’m being realistic,” I say, defensively. “It’s not as simple as boy meets girl, blah, blah, blah. And we all live happily ever fucking after. I’m not like you. I can’t just go out and hook up, I’ve got baggage, I’m damaged goods, what man in his right mind would want me?” Finally admitting and voicing my real fears. “When I meet a man and finally fall in love, I don’t want to live a lie. I want him to know me, all of me, the good, the bad and the ugly, Jamie. But how do I do that? How do I look at the man I love and tell him the horrors of my past without that changing how he sees me?” I shake my head in shame and defeat. My gut swirls with how revealing such truths will tarnish what we have. The woman who let a man beat her, debase her, a man she bore a child to, that was innocent and was cruelly ripped from this world in punishment for her failings as a woman and mother.

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again and again until you understand. You are not broken or damaged, you’re a fighter, Cam. Any man that can’t see the beauty and strength needed to survive what you have, isn’t a man worthy of your time. I think you need to give yourself more credit, and you definitely need to give more credit to a man like Blue. And I thought we’d already established that none of what happened is your fault, so there. Stop being so fucking stubborn and self-pitying, Cam. Dig deep, whip out those big arse balls I know you have and take the risk.”

The anger at her words rises through my body, but I’m not angry at her or even what she said. I’m angry because she’s right. “You’re a bitch, you know that, right?”

“Hey, it’s my most redeeming feature.” She chuckles, “It’s also why you love me. Now get back over here and give me something I can dream about later.”

“Oh my god, Jamie, that’s just all kinds of wrong.” But I do as she asks, and for the next hour we chat and laugh like any other best friends. And that’s what she is, my best friend.

It’s almost dark by the time we arrive back at the apartment, but I’m glad I convinced the guys to stop and grab takeout on the way home. It’s been an emotional day, filled with junk food, so may as well go the whole hog.

Scott and Russ leave me at the lift, with Scott telling me that one of them will be here all night if I need them. It’s the most he’s ever spoken to me, although, he seems distracted. Which is something I’ve never seen from him before. I’m not altogether sure why, but it has beads of worry settling in my belly.

I chuck the food on the counter, and rush to the bedroom for a quick shower, needing to wash the scent of the hospital from my skin. I throw on a comfy pair of PJs before leaving the room, grabbing my kebab on the way to the lounge and settle on the sofa. I flick through the channels searching for something light-hearted, while I stuff kebab in my mouth. My phone pings with a message, picking it up from the table I’m silently hoping it’s Ryder. But it’s not, and when I open it up, my heart sinks to the very depths of despair. On the screen is a newspaper article covering the car accident that killed my mum and Faye. What the actual fuck! Some sections have been highlighted, and I scan through them as my dinner threatens a hasty reappearance.

…police attendedthe scene of an accident today, involving a woman and child. The child was pronounced dead at the scene, while the woman was taken to the local hospital, where she later died.

That’s not right.That can’t be right. Sean told me they died instantly. How the fuck can this be true, and why haven’t I seen this before? Why would he lie about it? My vision blurs as my brain tries to make sense of what I’m reading. I close my eyes and try to think back to that day, but my memories were hazy after the police told me our daughter was dead. I just remember pain, so much pain.

In the days that followed, Sean dealt with everything, while I drowned in unimaginable sorrow. I became the living dead; no care for myself or anything around me. As I continue to scan another section catches my eye, this one appears to be from an article a week after the first and triggers another memory.

The driverof a trunk that killed a grandmother and grandchild, has been found dead at his home. Police say that the 32-year-old man died of a single gunshot wound to his head and are asking anyone with any information to contact them on this number…

I remember reading this,but when I asked Sean, he said it wasn’t the same man, that he hung himself. I thought it was strange then, but I didn’t question it, why would I? Now, I’m questioning everything.

I search the internet for every article that mentions my mum, daughter and the accident. There is a dozen or so and all make claims that contradict each other and what I was told. I find a pad and pen in the drawer in the kitchen and make notes late into the night.

By the time I drag my arse to bed, my head is pounding, and my emotions are raw. I climb into Ryder’s bed, curling into a ball and cry until my body is spent, and I finally fall asleep.

Twenty-Four

Blue

I park a couple of streets away, walking the rest of the way to the yard. There’s no one around at this time in the morning except low-life criminals, prostitutes and the homeless. As I near the yard, any light provided by the street lamps becomes almost non-existent, casting shadows perfect for hiding in. My footsteps are light as I slip through a gap in the fence, avoiding the camera over the wide-open gate. My heart rate picks up as adrenaline floods my system, but there’s something else too. The same something that’s been riding me all day; worry, fear, a bottom of the gut feeling that something isn’t right. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I push on through the yard passing container after container and checking serial numbers as I go.

Tyres crunch on gravel behind me, slipping behind the nearest container just as headlights pass where I am. The car travels further up the makeshift track, and I follow using the containers as cover. Pausing as a car door slams shut, and low voices reach me through the silence of the early morning. I edge as close as I can without giving myself away, stretching my head and straining my ears in an effort to catch what is being said. Other than a few words here and there, I can’t make out anything useful.

With all my attention focused on the two men ahead of me, I don’t hear the person behind me until the last second. About to turn around, the snick of a gun has me halting as cool metal meets the back of my head.

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