“I’m fine,” I whisper to Rocco. Slowly he backs away, drilling Fuckface with a mean-arse stare as he does.

“I’ll be close. You can count on that,” Rocco hisses and points his inked finger at the intruder.

When Rocco’s bedroom door slams shut, I prepare to give my ex a serve, but for some godforsaken reason I can’t. I would’ve thought I’d be more livid with him, but I’ve run out of steam.

“You made promises … you broke my heart.”

“I’m just a man. I made mistakes. Monumental ones. I had a gambling problem. I know I ruined everything, but I’m well now.”

“I’m still paying for your mistakes. Every single week until I’m practically penniless.”

“I went to the bank today. I’ve paid off a hundred thousand and—”

“How can I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?”

He pulls a piece of paper from inside his left jacket pocket and hands it to me. It’s a receipt for one hundred thousand dollars into the bank account with the numbers that have haunted me for the longest time.

“I swear to you, once I liquidate some of the family shares I’ll be able to settle it in full.”

“What do you mean family shares?”

He pauses, sadness lining his features. “My mother is gone, Sophie.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I’m not a total bitch. Tabatha was actually very sweet to me, but of course once Fuckface went MIA she didn’t take any of my calls. She was too embarrassed that he’d disgraced the family name.

He stands and glides his hands down the front of his suit jacket. He pulls a card from his pocket and hands it to me.

Gregory Chase

Managing Director

Chase Constructions

“I want children, Sophie. Just like we’d planned. I’ve moved into the family home now that Mum is gone, too. All I need now is you.”

I can’t believe this. I want to cry, scream, rip every hair from his head, but I can’t do any of it. I have a chance for this debt to be cleared, which will change my life forever.

Whether I want to take it or not, he’s offering to give me what I always dreamed of: a family, a child of my own who won’t judge me, but will love me unconditionally. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, but is this what I want right now? And with him? Something inside my heart has changed. I have a new job, and the potential to advance my career and support myself. Am I really ready for kids after all?

“I don’t know what to say to that, Greg. I really don’t.”

“I’ll make this right, Sophie, and you will take me back.”

The confidence that once oozed from his every pore is back. The sharp smell of his cologne takes me to a time when we were happy. When I was the world to someone, and my dream was so close I could touch it. The problem is, there’s too much bad blood here. I can never recover from what he did to me, but I have to play it cool if I want to make sure he pays off the debt. Play it smart.

Fuckface leans down and kisses my cheek. “Goodbye, Sophie. See you soon.” The next thing I know, he’s out the door.

Did that really just happen? Do I need to slap myself to make sure I’m awake?

Rocco’s heavy boots thud down the hallway, growing louder with each step. He’s huffing and puffing like a maniac.

“Well this day turned to shit fast, huh?” I joke.

“What are we gonna do about this prick?” he says and throws his hands in the air. He paces towards the front door and then turns and rakes his fingers through his hair on his way back to me.

“We? This isn’t your problem,” I inform him. I get up from the table, and collect a few oranges from the floor. The timber is littered with broken porcelain. I’ll have to replace Rocco’s fruit bowl. Shit. I hope it wasn’t his mother’s.

“You know what I mean. I thought we were skinning this prick alive?” he seethes.

“This is an opportunity for me to work it out with him.”

“You’re seriously not considering going back with him?” His voice is raised now in pitch and volume. Why is he so riled up about this?

“The only thing I’m worried about here is clearing the debt. That’s all.”

His shoulders slump and he exhales loudly. “You don’t want to get back with him?”

“No,” I say, looking him in the eye. “Never.”

He nods, and the anger that was oozing out of him a second ago has all but vanished. “Right. Well I s’pose I’d better clean up the blood in the stairwell … and on the floor.”

“Ooh. Yeah, I forgot about that. That’d be great, because, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. You nailed him, by the way. There must’ve been a lot of pent-up aggression in that swing.”

I laugh. “You have no idea.” I rub my hands down my face. “Once you’ve cleaned up, can we eat jelly?”

“No. When I’m done, we eat chicken cacciatore.”

“Oooh, sounds fancy.”

“Not really.”

“After we eat, do you think you can do me a favour?” I ask, as if cooking me a fancy dinner isn’t already pushing my luck.

He tilts his head to the side. “What’s that?” he asks.

“Watch Ferris Bueller with me? It’s definitely a Ferris kind of night.”

He winks, and it’s as if I’m looking at this man with new eyes. “Yeah. I think I can handle that.” He steps around the chaos on the floor and rinses out a dishcloth in the kitchen sink.

Rocco is slowly showing me that he’s the opposite of what I once thought of him. He can be kind … caring, and—

“Come on. Hurry up, Suds. I need you chopping onions,” he teases.

And he still has the energy to be bossy.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ROCCO

Friday

I pick up the house phone before the call rings out. “Yeah,” I say, hoping it is in fact him on the end of the line.

“Took your time answering, Roc,” he says, his voice quiet.

“Vinnie. Brother.” Relief spills through my blood. Just hearing his voice is a comfort. I walk into my room and shut the door. “You good?”

“I’m alive I s’pose.”

“You haven’t had any more trouble?” I dare to ask.

“I got busted up a bit yesterday.” He pauses, and I can hear his laboured breath.

“Shit, you okay?”

“They split my lip, and I’ve got a black eye.”

My jaw ticks as I clench my teeth. I’ll go fucking bananas if they’ve violated him again. “Did they … touch you?” I ask slowly, my voice gruff with emotion.

“No, but I have some news, and I’m pretty sure I have you to thank, even though I’m pissed you did it.”

“What news?”

“They’re moving me into protection tomorrow.”

My shoulders drop as the heavy load slides from my shoulders. “Well thank fuck for that,” I grunt out.

“Anyway, enough of this shit. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

I don’t even baulk at what I’m about to tell him. “I went to an AA meeting.”

“You did? Fuck, that’s awesome.” The pride in his tone has me all of a sudden crippled under a wave of emotion. My voice chokes in my throat as a lone tear rolls down my face.

“We tipped it all down the sink. I have to shake this fuckin’ problem, otherwise I’m no good to anyone. I’m no good to you.” I take in a deep breath and picture him smiling on the other end of the line. “I’ve gotta make some fuckin’ changes, brother. I can’t let my life or yours be overshadowed by the path Dad was on. I owe Mamma that.”

“I know, Roc. I have a lot of fucking time to think about shit in here. The longer I’m inside, the more I’m ready for a change. No way I’m ever coming back to a hell hole like this.”

“It’s gonna be a battle with the club. You know this.”

“I know.” He sighs and drags in a deep breath. “Last time we talked you seemed nowhere near doing something about your drinking. What changed your mind?”

A blonde bombshell under my roof.

“A girl … Suds … she’s living with me temporarily.” I hate the sound of that word. Temporarily. She hasn’t lived with me for that long, but that room being empty … waiting for V seems so long ago. I can’t imagine her gone, but I guess that’s the reality of it being temporary. It was only ever gonna be a short-term thing.