Absolution (15 page)

Goosebumps rose on her arms from his touch. Silently, she prayed for strength even as she felt it flowing out of her. Her bones seemed to liquefy, leaving her feeling even more vulnerable.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she whispered.

“Just say that you’ll let me try – that’s all. I’m not walking away this time. You have my word.”

She was light-headed from the implications, her brain whirling in a hundred different directions at once. “Please, can you do something for me?”

He nodded solemnly. “Anything – name it.”

“Talk to Callum. Please?”

She swore she felt him shrinking away from her, although he recovered quickly.

“Despite what he might say, he doesn’t hate you. He just needs time.”

“He does hate me, and I don’t blame him.”

“You shut him out and it hurt, that’s all. He lost his best friend. You must be able to understand that? I mean, you did too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I guess I did,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him. We’ll work something out.”

Four Years Earlier

Jack stood outside Callum’s hospital room, his shoulder aching despite the miles of tape and the sling that was supposed to keep his arm immobile.

“Thank you, son. That’s all we need for now. I’ll let you go see your friend.”

The policeman who reminded him of a younger version of his father put his notebook away and offered his hand.

“Thanks,” Jack nodded, shaking it. “Uh, do you know what happened to the driver of the other car?”

The cop shook his head. “The paramedics pronounced him deceased at the scene. Right now, that’s all we know. The autopsy will hopefully reveal more.”

Jack nodded, shaken to hear Callum’s suspicions confirmed.

“Thanks for your time,” the cop said kindly. “You take care now.”

Jack watched him walk away, sinking back against the wall and trying to stop his head from spinning off his shoulders. He wondered if he should have taken the painkillers offered to him when they taped up his shoulder, but it had felt like cheating somehow. It was hard enough to keep a thought in his head without drugs muddying the waters.

He desperately wanted to see his father one minute, and was then overcome with shame the next. How was he going to explain this – to his father, to Ally? He took a deep breath, then another, before standing upright, pushing himself away from the wall and forcing himself to enter Callum’s room.

Callum sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. His clothes were heaped in a pile beside him, the hospital gown he had argued about putting on, hanging off him loosely.

He glanced up when Jack entered. “Everything okay?” 

“Fine.”

“What did he want to know?”

“What the road conditions were like, how fast we were going, if I’d had anything to drink,” Jack sank down carefully into the chair in the corner. “He breathalysed me.”

“Makes sense.”

The doctor’s words hung in the air between them, heavy and oppressive and coating Jack in a thick layer of guilt he could barely breathe through.

“She’s going to be fine,” Callum said. “She’ll get through this and she’ll be okay.”

Jack could feel his muscles contracting, almost pulling him in on himself.

“No she’s not,” he whispered. “She’s not gonna be fine – weren’t you listening? She’s paralysed and it’s my fault.”

“Jesus – how many times? You didn’t do this!”

“Yes I did!” Jack insisted through teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached. He stood up and began to pace, his body anxiously needing to mirror the frantic activity going on inside his brain. “She had a spinal injury and I moved her!”

“You didn’t know!”

The moment of impact rushed back, with everything else that followed playing out in front of Jack like a movie. “If I’d left her in her seat, if I hadn’t moved her, if I’d just listened to you, she’d be fine.”

“You did the right thing,” Callum insisted. “The car was leaking gas – you didn’t have a choice, you couldn’t just leave her there!”

“Oh God, she’s gonna hate me. She’s gonna… ” Jack stopped still, his knees trembling as the weight of his decision pushed down on him.

“You were trying to save her life, the car could’ve gone up at any time and she would’ve been inside it if you hadn’t pulled her out!”

Jack blinked, coming back to reality with a jolt. “But it didn’t, did it? It didn’t ignite. Maybe I imagined it? Maybe there was no gas, maybe it was all in my head?”

“You didn’t imagine it!” Callum rasped sharply, tears gathering in his eyes. “I smelt it too – for God’s sake, this isn’t helping. Remember what the doc said? When she wakes up, she’s gonna need you. If she sees you like this it’s just gonna freak her out. You need to get a grip!”

Jack stared back at him, dumbstruck. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t stand there in front of Ally and tell her that because of what he did, she was never going to walk again. He couldn’t apologise – there were no words for what he had done. And what did it matter anyway? Words wouldn’t fix it, nothing would. His whole body went numb as the realisation coursed through his veins, eating away at his insides, hollowing him out.

The door opened then, and it felt like time had slowed down again. His father appeared and at the look of anguish on his face, Jack broke down. 

“Son,” he said simply, and then Jack was freefalling into his arms.

“
Not everything that is faced can be changed.

But nothing can be changed until it is faced.
”

- James Arthur Baldwin

Jack climbed into his car and sat there, staring into the darkness.

She wants me to stay.

He felt light-headed for a moment before joy quickly turned to uncertainty. He had convinced himself that she was going to send him away – and why not? What could she possibly see in him that he couldn’t see in himself? He didn’t deserve this. How would he ever prove to her that he was worthy of it if he didn’t truly believe it himself? How was he going to change things?

Get a grip. Don’t do this.

He couldn’t screw this up, not again. There was too much riding on it now. The strength in Ally’s voice as she talked about her injury had been in direct contrast to the look in her eyes. He was under no illusion that it was as straightforward as she made it sound. One thing was for certain, he had a lot to catch up on.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he dug it out, declining the call and tossing it onto the passenger seat. It wasn’t the first time Ben had tried contacting him and probably wouldn’t be the last. He vowed to pick up a new phone, and soon.

Listening to the engine idling, he contemplated his next move. He had no idea how this would go but he had promised Ally he would try, so try he would. He pulled away from the curb and into the darkness, headlights illuminating the road ahead. 

Driving through town, the roads were more or less deserted as he left the streetlights behind, detouring from the main road and onto a quiet side street. He hadn’t been to Callum’s house in years, but he drove on autopilot, as if he were here just yesterday. He pulled over to the curb opposite the last house on the street and sat in the car, staring at it. The house was dark and Callum’s car was nowhere in sight. What had happened to Callum’s van? He had put so much work into getting it on the road, he found it hard to believe he would ever part with it, yet apparently he had.

He could tell from the way Ally talked about him that they were close and while he understood why, it still hurt. He had to keep reminding himself that he had walked away – Callum hadn’t. It made sense, their bond. He swallowed down the jealousy he knew he had no right to feel. He had to work at gaining their trust back, and that was exactly what he was planning to do.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled away from the curb. Callum wasn’t at home so that meant he would have to go looking for him. Barney’s was his first stop. He hadn’t been inside since he returned to town but he was willing to play the odds. He started to sweat. Barney’s was familiar territory and he had purposefully avoided any such places since the debacle at the funeral. The curtain-twitching going on next door every time he left the house was getting on his nerves. What sort of reception would he get here?

Callum glanced up from the sink as the men’s room door creaked open. Andy McLeish stood in the doorway, wearing a self-satisfied smirk that Callum immediately wanted to punch off his face. Instead, he grabbed a paper towel and quickly dried his hands, tossing it into the tin bucket in the corner.

“Well, look who it is,” Andy purred.

“What the hell do you want? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Why? Am I making you nervous?”

“Nope,” he mumbled, pushing past Andy irritably. “But the smell of bullshit in here is making me gag.”

Andy grabbed Callum’s arm as he passed, twisting it up behind his back and pushing him up against the wall. Callum’s face smacked into the hardboard paneling as Andy pinned him in place, pain shooting up his arm.

“Careful,” Andy breathed in his ear. “That was almost assault. Wouldn’t that be a violation of your probation?”

Callum breathed heavily through his nose, his temper rising with every heartbeat. Just as he was sure he wasn’t able to rein it in any longer, Andy let him go and stepped back. Slowly, Callum turned to face him, flexing his hand and ignoring the dull ache in his elbow. He glanced at Andy out of the corner of his eye and turned to head straight for the door.

“I saw her the other day, on the street. She didn’t see me, but I got a good look at those skinny little legs in action. Much hotter than the wheelchair – you can tell her I said that, too.”

Callum stopped in his tracks, one hand on the door, not daring to turn around. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His lungs felt like they were sitting in his throat.

“I mean, there’s no doubt that the sex would still be weird, but I’m willing to bet that she could do other things just as well as normal chicks – maybe even better. I mean, is it kinda like blind people having great hearing? Y’know, other senses compensating for the one that’s gone? Something like that.”

Callum’s teeth clenched together so hard he thought his jaw was going to break. The image of Andy anywhere near Ally made his skin crawl. He turned around to face him, barely able to contain his temper. His face felt like it was on fire as they circled each other in the small bathroom. Callum’s fists clenched in anticipation. What he wouldn’t give to knock that cocky smile right off his ugly face.

Andy raised his eyebrows at him and threw his hands up in mock surrender, almost inviting him to hit him. Callum seriously considered it for a moment. Then he realised what was happening and knew he had to get out of there. Andy had positioned himself in front of the door again, smiling.

“Get out of my way,” he hissed, elbowing him aside and shoving the men’s room door open so hard it rebounded off the wall.

He stopped in his tracks as the door swung behind him. Jack stood at the bar, beer untouched in front of him.

“Hey!” Andy yelled, addressing Harry, the bartender. “You can’t do that – that was assault! Did you see that?”

“See what?” Harry turned his back and ambled down to the other end of the bar. Callum couldn’t help but smirk. Harry, in his usual straightforward way, was letting Andy know exactly what he thought of him. After what happened in court, Andy didn’t have many friends in here.

“He pushed me!”

Callum ignored him as he walked towards the bar stool he had vacated minutes earlier, reaching for his jacket.

Jack nodded at the half-finished beer on the bar in front of Callum. “I’ve never known you to walk away from a beer.”

“Yeah well, times change.”

“Hey!” Andy called. “Ferguson! We’re not done yet!”

Callum could feel the anger welling up inside him. He pushed open the door out into the street and fished his car keys out of his pocket.

“Ferguson!”

He heard the door creak open again behind him, Andy’s voice hanging in the cool night air. Sighing, he stopped. Clearly, this wasn’t going to just go away.

“What do you want?” he demanded, turning to face him.

Andy smiled, happy to have his full attention again. The street was deserted. Could he risk it? It’d certainly be worth it.

“Look, I can see why you’re sweet on her. I mean, she’s pretty, and with her legs being all screwed up like that, she’d be grateful for the attention. But if you don’t make a move soon, I’m gonna beat you to it and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

“I’m not gonna tell you again. Stay away from her.”

“Or what?”

Callum’s fists clenched at his side. “You don’t want to know.”

“Sounds like a threat to me,” Andy chuckled.

“Whatever, man,” Callum turned his back on him again. Andy’s hand on his shoulder immediately sent his blood pressure soaring but before he could react, Andy had spun him around to face him.

“I’m not done with you, Ferguson.”

“Take your hands off me, you piece of shit!” Callum growled, shrugging his hand off him and taking a step closer in one fluid movement. “If you ever touch me again, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens to you, understand? I
will
do jail time for what I do to you and it’ll be freakin’ worth it, got that?”

He stared into Andy’s face a moment longer, mentally tying his fists to his sides so they wouldn’t reflexively jab up and under Andy’s chin. Andy stared right back at him, not moving a muscle.

“I don’t know how we got off to such a bad start,” Andy said evenly. “We got a lot in common. I mean, just look at her – we’re obviously both into the kinky shit. Now, I can’t speak for you, but I would definitely consider tapping that once, at least. Call it curiosity or whatever, but I’d go there. I mean, can she even feel anything down there? Cos if not, maybe foreplay isn’t really necessary y’know? Or maybe that’s out of the question completely – could be that she’s more of a giver than a taker, if you catch my –”

Suddenly, Andy careened away from him in a tangle of arms and curses. Jack bulldozed him across the pavement and slammed him up against the nearest wall, face-first. Callum, his brain struggling to make sense of what just happened, could only stand and watch as Jack leaned in close to Andy, whispering something. Then he spun him around to face him, punching him so hard that Andy’s head rebounded off the wall with a sickening crack.

Callum stood, frozen, as the scene unfolded before him. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that wasn’t Jack, but someone else. As long as he had known him, Jack had never been a fighter. He was the voice of reason, Callum was the one with the temper. Watching him now, though, Callum could see that something had changed.

“That’s assault!” Andy gasped, blood pouring out of his nose and dripping off his chin. “You’re gonna be sorry you did that – just like he was!”  

Jack glanced over at Callum and his blood ran cold. What the hell was going on?

Jack turned his attention back to Andy, punching him again and sending him careening sideways. He reached down to haul him to his feet before driving a hammer punch into his ribs, doubling Andy over.

Callum tried to reconcile the Jack that stood over Andy now, with the friend he once knew. The two seemed worlds apart. As teenagers, they had brawled once, and it had been while Jack’s mother was going through chemo. Jack hadn’t had the skill or experience that Callum had, and it was over with one punch. Callum had put it down to stress and they never spoke about it again.

But this was different. He hadn’t had time to think about it at the funeral, but watching him now gave him chills. Jack fought like a pro – he knew where to hit, when to hit and when to dodge. His body moved differently. He seemed calm, even when he delivered a blow. He was calculated. It was chilling. 

Jack hauled Andy to his feet yet again and pushed him out into the street. Andy staggered, hunched over with his arm held close to his ribs. He glanced up at Callum briefly, blood pouring from his nose, dark in the streetlight, before stumbling down the street towards his car.

“Why’d you do that?” Callum asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jack cradled the knuckles of one hand in the palm of the other. “He deserved it.”

Callum stared at him, trying to read him.

“I heard what he said, about Ally,” Jack added. “He’s an asshole, nailed to a pair of feet.”

Callum smiled in spite of himself. That was Tom’s expression and they both knew it.

“I don’t know about you,” Jack said finally. “But I could do with a drink.”

Callum nodded slowly, the blood still rushing in his ears. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn it was nerves. He had no idea what had happened to Jack in the last four years, but the guy standing in front of him wasn’t the Jack he thought he knew. This guy could hold his own in a fight. This guy had an almost dangerous air about him, hidden right beneath the surface. This guy had some explaining to do.