What I Saw Page 13

  He stands. Shrugs. ‘You’ll regret it. I would have stuck around.’

  I ache inside for the time and hope that I’ve wasted on him, but I know one thing. ‘I’m pretty sure I won’t.’

  But he’s already looking past me to the fire. ‘Take care of yourself, babe.’

  I watch him stumble back to the party. Tears sting my eyes but don’t fall. I cared for Jonny, but I can’t deny I’m glad to be free.

  I carry my heels and follow in Jonny’s wake, holding my head high. I’ll go home soon but damn if I’m going to let anyone think I’ve run home to cry myself to sleep.

  I’m single. What does that even mean? Rhett …

  No. This isn’t about him.

  I hover awkwardly at the edge of the party, feigning interest in my phone. Fifteen painful minutes pass.

  It’s hot so close to the flames. I slip out of my jacket. Some girl from another school is leaning close to where Jonny’s perched on a crate, drinking with some of the football team. Her hand clutches his arm as she marvels at his muscles.

  He glances my way and pushes her off.

  Jonny staggers to his feet. ‘Listen up,’ he shouts. ‘I need your attention.’

  There’s no response from the crowd until someone turns off the music. Then there are some complaints, but eventually everyone’s looking his way. He’s balanced up on a crate. The girl who was all over him a minute ago waits at his feet, adoration shining in her eyes. I can’t believe I ever looked at him like that.

  He clears his throat. ‘We all know this is the biggest party of the year.’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘Big enough,’ he continues, ‘that it was worth me driving all the way from the city just to be here.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be a party without you, Jonny,’ someone calls.

  ‘Tonight should be a celebration,’ he says. ‘But there’s someone missing who should be here.’

  A crowd forms in front of him. It’s like his words have called them back from the jetty and the dunes. They brush off sand and grab beers from the crates.

  ‘Hayds should be here tonight, but he’s fighting for his life in hospital.’ Jonny lifts his beer. ‘To Hayds.’

  The crowd drinks as one.

  ‘It’s not fair.’ The voice comes from a guy wearing only shorts and bad facial hair. He doesn’t even go to our school. But his words carry and the murmurs of agreement rise to a rumble. Some of the guys are pushing and shoving each other, the way drunken footballers do. The rumble becomes Rhett’s name.

  The not-really-heartbroken numbness that’s had me slumped on the sand breaks and is replaced by a wave of fear. I stand.

  The faces around me are all narrow eyes and frothing mouths. And their leader is Jonny. He drains another beer and lifts his hands for quiet. The crowd obeys and his mouth curves into a twisted grin. ‘How come Hayds is in a coma and the one who put him there is walking free tonight?’

  There’s swearing. More angry cries. I’m cold now, but it’s nothing my jacket can fix. I try to catch Jonny’s eye. Once, I could have talked to him, maybe calmed this down. Not anymore. Sparks spit from the bonfire. It has to be a trick of the light but Jonny’s eyes seem to glow red, and they aren’t looking at me.

  I search the crowd for someone reasonable, but it’s a sea of angry faces. A few girls are crying at the injustice of it all, but it’s the guys who worry me.

  ‘We should teach him a lesson.’ And then, from behind me: ‘He likes the hospital so much, maybe we should give him a reason to visit.’

  Timmy stands by himself on the edge of the crowd. I move to his side and tug at his arm but he refuses to meet my gaze.

  ‘You were there,’ I say softly, desperate for his help. ‘This isn’t right.’

  He shakes his head. ‘No-one will listen to me.’

  I tighten my grip on his bicep and wait for him to meet my gaze. There’s guilt in his eyes. ‘You have to tell them the truth,’ I beg.

  Timmy shrugs me off. ‘You want them to go after Sean instead?’

  Of course not. But they wouldn’t—he’s one of their own. ‘Tell them.’

  ‘It’s too late.’

  Jonny is speaking again. I give up on Timmy and move closer to hear. My ex-boyfriend is preaching to his personal congregation. ‘We should do something about it,’ he declares. He’s drunk, and high on the crowd’s adoration. Someone calls out that he’ll make things right.

  ‘I will,’ he promises.

  The ball of worry in my belly expands, making it hard to breathe.

  Jonny smiles. He leans down and the flames reflect off the empty beer bottle in his hand. He smashes it against the side of the crate with a blow I feel right through my bones. It splinters, spraying glass into the sand, but no-one moves. He lifts the bottle again. Jagged edges glint in the firelight. ‘I know where he lives.’

  I squeeze my eyes closed but when I open them again nothing’s changed. It’s happening. This mob is going to go after Rhett for something he didn’t even do.

  I look around for Timmy, but he’s gone. I’m the only one who can stop them. I move towards the crate but my bare feet might as well be walking in quicksand.

  More bottles break.

  The sand sucks me down, deeper and deeper. I probably can’t make a difference. I see Rhett’s dark eyes in my mind. They hold no expectation that I will act at all. And then I’m moving. Stumbling over a girl passed out on the sand, desperate to get to Jonny and stop this madness.

  ‘Jonny,’ I cry.

  The wind that stilled for his words to carry now catches mine and drags them away. It whips my hair across my face and chills my bare legs. Tall and strong at the front of the group, Jonny doesn’t veer from his path. He’s leading them away from the fire, towards the road. Only five people are following, but it’s enough. They’re out for blood.

  Rhett’s blood.

  ‘Jonny, wait.’ I try again to catch his attention. I force my jelly legs to move faster, elbowing my way through guys who tower over me and reek of beer and adrenaline.

  I stumble, slip and scramble, never getting quite enough air into my lungs. Finally I reach the top of the stairs and get in front of Jonny. It’s high, but that’s not why my heart is hammering.

  I turn and raise my hands, palms out. ‘Stop.’

  He slows and looks down. ‘There’s something we have to do, baby.’

  ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘It’s okay, no-one’s going to get hurt.’ The broken bottle glints in his hand. He smirks. ‘Well, no-one who matters.’

  ‘Jonny—’ My throat clamps down on the rest of my words.

  The palm of his left hand, sticky with the beer from the broken bottle, cups my cheek. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  I draw a shuddering breath. Now isn’t the time to admit it’s not him I’m afraid for. ‘You’ll get in trouble,’ I say instead.

  ‘Rhett won’t be in any condition to tell,’ he assures me.

  He moves to go past me. This time I press both hands against his chest. ‘No. You have to listen.’

  He looks down and the smile is gone. ‘Get out of the way, Callie.’

  ‘No.’

  His jaw tightens. He steps forward and I can’t stop him. ‘Get. Out. Of. My. Way.’

  He’s going to go there with his friends and his weapons, to Rhett’s home, where his mum and his sister are probably asleep, and they’re going to hurt him. I can’t let it happen.

  ‘He didn’t do it.’ I blurt the truth, weakly at first, but then louder. ‘Rhett didn’t hit Hayden.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He didn’t do it. Ask Timmy.’ There’s a sense of freedom in letting the truth escape at last. I’ve never liked secrets, and this one was way too big to keep. I hope Sean will forgive me.

  There’s a moment as Jonny takes in my words. He knows me. He has to see I’m not lying. Except …

  He blinks, and the leader of the mob is back. ‘Nice try. Babe, you don’t need to be scared for me.’
>
  He puts his hand on my arm, attempting to nudge me out of the way, but I stand firm. ‘I’m not saying this because I’m afraid. You have to believe me.’

  This time he’s not as gentle.

  My legs give way and I hit the concrete, scraping palms and knees in an attempt to protect my face. I crouch where I fell, too stunned to do anything as he rallies his troops and strides away.

  They leave silence in their wake. Someone turns the stereo back up and the party continues as though nothing happened. As though there isn’t an angry mob hunting an innocent boy.

  I have to warn Rhett.

  There’s blood on my knee and I feel every one of my taped-up blisters from the dance as I climb back to my feet.

  Think.

  He doesn’t have a mobile as far as I know, but there has to be some way I can beat them there. The jingle of my keys in my pockets tempts me, but thanks to that beer I can’t drive. There has to be another way …

  I try to recall his house. Was there a landline? All I can remember is Rhett’s face, Rhett’s words.

  That’s it. He said the creek behind his place goes all the way to the sea. There has to be some kind of path. I’m moving in that direction before I can complete the thought. As I round the bend of the bay I hear the sound of heavy breathing behind me. I spin, my hands going up to defend myself from I don’t know who.

  Pale hair, pale skin, obscenely short black dress. Scarlett.

  Her eyes are wild. ‘You act like you’re so much better than us, but I saw the way you looked at Rhett. And I saw you with Jonny.’

  ‘What?’

  She shivers. Tears have left trails of make-up down her cheeks. ‘I saw you.’

  ‘I don’t have time for this. Unless you know a number I can use to call Rhett.’

  ‘Stay away from my brother.’ She steps closer so I can see the raised gooseflesh on her skinny arms. ‘Rhett saw too.’

  My belly cramps. ‘He’s here?’

  ‘Not anymore. Not after he saw you with Jonny.’

  ‘I have to find him.’ I grip both her shoulders. She’s so tiny. ‘If you were watching me, you know I tried to stop them.’

  Her lower lip wobbles and her eyes dart around. ‘I was too far away to hear what they were saying.’

  I exhale and fight the urge to tighten my grip and shake her. ‘There’s a bunch of drunken idiots after Rhett. They have weapons.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Vengeance for Hayden.’

  ‘But he didn’t even … You have to tell them.’

  ‘I tried.’

  Her eyes tell me I didn’t try hard enough. I know. I had my chance after the dance. I could have stepped forward and none of this would have happened. Sure, I would have completely screwed up my brother’s life, but he was the one who threw the punch.

  Regrets are acid on my tongue. ‘I need to warn him,’ I tell Scarlett.

  She pushes past. ‘He’ll have taken the shortcut,’ she says over her shoulder.

  I trail her up into the dunes, staying on her heels until the place where the creek tumbles down over the rocks. It’s not a mountain by any means, but what happened to Roxy taught me that falling even a little way can be deadly.

  I don’t even realise I’ve stopped until I see Scarlett far ahead. Her skinny legs negotiate the rocks with ease, leaping from one jagged boulder to another.

  She’s halfway up before she looks back. ‘I thought you wanted to warn him?’

  I swallow. ‘I do.’ The assertion is a croak.

  She glares at me until I manage to make my feet move. I breathe deeply. At least my high heels are somewhere back by the fire. All I need to do is put one foot in front of the other and I’ll eventually reach the top. I can do this.

  I step up onto the first rock, ignoring the shaking in my knees. I have to do this. The other foot follows. And again. My heart pounds but I ignore everything except where I put my feet. Once I reach the top, I can warn Rhett. I can make up for some of the damage I have done.

  My mouth is dry. The wind has picked up again and strands of hair fly in front of my eyes. I shake my head and blink them away.

  Don’t look down.

  But as soon as I think it, I do. I’m higher than I thought. My belly flips and I have to press my head forward against the cold, hard surface of the rock.

  ‘You can do this.’ The voice comes from above. Scarlett.

  I glance up to a slim hand, too tiny to possibly take my weight, reaching out to help. I clamp my teeth together and take the next step, and the next, until I lie panting at the top.

  Scarlett stares down at me. Some of the hate is gone from her eyes. ‘Scared of heights?’

  I pull myself upright. ‘How could you tell?’

  We move on. The path is easy now compared to the first bit. The knowledge that Jonny and his friends are closing in has both of us upping the pace. I’m no athlete and my legs are soon aching.

  ‘How much further?’ I ask between gasps.

  ‘Nearly there.’ Scarlett points up ahead. ‘That’s our back light.’ Scarlett nods to the faint orange glow in the distance, spilling out from a familiar fence.

  ‘Rhett.’ I call his name before we’re over the fence. The light peeping through the windows from behind tattered blinds tells me there’s someone home. ‘Rhett,’ I cry again.

  What if we’re too late?

  I refuse to dwell on the possibility, following Scarlett over the fence rather than attempting the gate, which appears rusted shut. The back door is unlocked but there’s no response to our shouts.

  ‘Shower,’ says Scarlett with authority.

  I hear it then, the sound of running water being shut off. Scarlett thumps her fist on a door that doesn’t look as though it will hold up under the force. ‘Get out here,’ she shouts.

  A heartbeat later, the door opens a crack.

  Rhett. In nothing but a towel.

  I glimpse a brown chest and defined stomach muscles that make my already hammering heart go crazy. Our eyes meet, his brows lift in question and my cheeks spontaneously combust. I’m the first to look away.

  Scarlett is oblivious to my embarrassment. ‘We have to get out of here. They’re coming for you.’

  ‘Who?’

  Two thin hands grip my shoulders, turn me and force me towards Rhett. ‘Tell him,’ Scarlett demands.

  I stare resolutely at his feet. They’re covered in water droplets. ‘Jonny. And some others. They want to punish you for what happened to Hayden. You have to hurry.’

  ‘I’m not afraid.’

  Scarlett steps between us. ‘I am. You don’t want another fight. We’re in enough trouble.’

  The door closes, and opens again a minute later. He’s wearing only jeans and I can’t look away from his damp body. My mouth is dry and my heart fluttery.

  With every breath, I inhale his shower-fresh scent as I follow him out the back, where he pulls on a black T-shirt. He sits on the camp bed and looks up at Scarlett. ‘You’re sure they’re coming here?’ he asks, slipping on wet-looking sneakers.

  She points in my direction. ‘That’s what she said.’

  ‘There’s at least five of them. They’re carrying broken bottles. I tried to tell them you didn’t throw the punch, but they didn’t care. You should call the police.’

  ‘And say what? Some guys might be coming here to maybe get me?’ Rhett stands and moves towards the house.

  I take three steps after him. ‘Didn’t you hear me? I get that you’re pissed with me, and I don’t blame you, but you have to believe me. You’re in danger.’

  He looks back at me and I can’t read his expression. ‘I do believe you, but if they come here and find the house empty, they’ll trash it. I need to grab what I can.’

  ‘You have to be quick.’ I’m talking to his back. He’s already inside. Scarlett follows.

  They return seconds later with a pitifully small bag each. Rhett has a box under his arm. ‘Scarlett’s sewing machine,’ he explai
ns. ‘I’ll put it by the creek.’

  He freezes, breathes an oath and glances towards the front door.

  I strain my ears to hear. There’s a noise, out of place in the late-night street. ‘It might not be Jonny,’ I offer. I peer down the side of the house, but the streetlight on the corner is broken.

  There’s a bang from the front of the house and a deep voice calls Rhett’s name. ‘Come out and face us, you coward.’ More than one fist is hammering on the door, and then we hear the sound of glass smashing.

  ‘Move.’ I startle at Scarlett’s whisper and turn to see Rhett ahead.

  ‘What about your house?’

  She shrugs. ‘There’s nothing valuable there.’

  I take one last glance back and then I’m running, leaping off the porch. A few more steps and I’m over the fence. When Jonny and his friends make it through the house, they’ll instantly guess where we’ve gone, but there’s no other way.

  Scarlett doesn’t immediately follow Rhett down the creek trail, instead moving upstream a little way and draping a jacket over a branch. She jogs back. ‘Might fool them,’ she mutters before moving past me.

  Before long we leave the drunken chorus behind us. The only sounds are our footsteps and the water slipping and sliding over rocks in the creek.

  Rhett pauses. ‘Can I borrow your phone?’ he asks.

  I hand it over and he speaks quickly into it.

  ‘Who was that?’ I ask.

  ‘Javier.’

  I take my phone from his outstretched hand. ‘Isn’t he your boss?’

  When he looks at me there’s frustration in every tight muscle of his face. ‘Yes. And a friend. He’ll let us crash there tonight and he’ll make sure Ma doesn’t head home at the end of her shift.’ His tone is level, despite his emotion.

  I walk next to them without speaking. I don’t know what to say.

  We take a side path away from the creek and are soon back out on the empty streets. We’re about a block away from the creek when heavy footsteps echo up ahead. I freeze and my heart rate skyrockets again. I turn back towards the creek. If we can make it, the trees at least might provide some cover.

  ‘It’s okay,’ says Rhett. ‘It’ll be Javier coming to meet us.’

  A moment later I make out the loping figure of the town vet, with his long hair and tattoos. Mum was horrified when he first took over from the old man who’d been here for decades, but even she was impressed when he fixed Lion’s knees.