Always For You (Books 1-3) (4 page)

“
Is
something wrong mom?” I asked. There was a weight in the car that
was never present between us.

She barely seemed to hear me, the
question only registering after a few seconds delay. “Oh no,
nothings wrong, everything's great.” The false enthusiasm behind
her words was clear.

I didn't want to pry, it was never my
way to do so. If someone didn't want to tell me something, I suppose
that was their choice. It probably had nothing to do with me anyway,
so why bother making her feel uncomfortable. I suspected, though,
that it was about Ellen.

“
Oh
God damn it,” my mother exclaimed loudly as we drew up to traffic
building behind some roadworks, bashing her hands down against the
steering wheel. It was a totally out of character outburst.

“
It's
only a bit of traffic mom, will grandad really be that annoyed if
we're a little late?”

“
Well
Grace, I don't know.” Her tone was irritable. “I'm just not in
the mood for all of this right now.”

“
Mom,
is there anything else going on. Is it dad's business?” I couldn't
help but ask by now.

She exhaled deeply. “It's that,
everything.” She was starting to well up, shaking her head, her
lips beginning to quiver.

“
Oh
mom, it can't be that bad?” I leaned in and put my arm around her
shoulders as we ground down to a halt once more. “We're still doing
OK aren't we?”

A few tears were beginning to trickle
down her face now, smearing her make up. She sniffed a couple of
times, trying to re-gather herself, grabbing a tissue from her
handbag and wiping her eyes. “No, Gracie, you're right. It's not
too bad. I'm just – having a bad day is all. Nothing for you to
worry about honey.”

It was a fob off and I knew it. “OK
mom, you don't have to tell me if you don't want.” I was used to
being left out of the bigger dramas in the family over the years, a
symptom of being the youngest I guess.

“
No
really Gracie, it's not like that. There really is nothing to tell.”

I left it there. I always hated pushing
someone to tell me something, and hated when they did the same to me.

As
we emerged from the other side of the roadworks mom continued to put
her foot down, once more lost into her own little world.
Forget
it, if she doesn't want to tell me, that's her business.

I turned to look out my passenger
window, the world rushing by as my mind drifted back to other things.
I caught glimpse of a guy on a motorcycle, getting a little close for
comfort next to us before dropping back. He seemed to be turning
towards me, looking at me, before easing off and falling back.

A sudden jolt brought me back to
reality. It came from behind, on the back wheel of the drivers side.
I turned to my mom to see her wrestling with the steering wheel as
the car shuffled precariously along the highway. She tried to steady
the vehicle, shifting the wheel to the left and right as it lurched
from side to side.

My heart was in my throat, a sudden
shot of adrenaline pulsing up through my body. I clung to my seat
with my hands, my fingers digging into the material, my back pressed
hard against it. My mom was panicking as the car continued to sway,
its movements quickly growing more intense. She slammed her foot to
the breaks, trying to arrest our momentum.

It didn't work.

The car swung further to the left, our
speed carrying us over, the world turning upside down. Time stood
still as the car flipped, spinning on its side and crashing down on
its back. The weight of the car carried it further as it continued to
turn and roll, tossing us around inside like rag dolls.

I could hear my mom screaming, but no
sound escaped my voice. I was frozen in terror, unable to think,
unable to move. My belt kept me locked to my seat, my shoulders and
neck violently shaken from side to side as the car tumbled down the
road.

I heard my mom's screams stop abruptly
but couldn't see her. My body was tensed up, locked in position,
shrinking away from the metal twisting around me. Then, I felt a
sudden and intense pain in my head as my temple clashed with metal,
glass shattering from the windows and sprinkling into my face.

The world went blurry, me eyes losing
focus, until everything turned to black.

Cain

The
ring of my phone brought be out of my stupor as I lay half naked on
my bed, sheets discarded to the floor, bottle of empty whiskey
sitting on the bedside table next to me. I looked at my clock.
Ah
shit.

I was meant to work a game today, a bit
of extra money for a few hours bar work. I rolled onto my feet, the
world still spinning from the night before. My brain was pulsing in
my skull, broken images of toxic vodka and an even more toxic
stripper surfacing in my memory.

No time to shower. No time to shave. I
grabbed my cleanest clothes and sunk a few pills with a half drunk
can of beer in the kitchen. Quick fix for a heavy hangover.

I
took my leather jacket and helmet from the hook before gingerly
stepping downstairs and out into the late morning sunshine.
Shit
that's bright
.
I put my helmet on immediately to shade my eyes and kick started my
bike, the engine spluttering and roaring to life as I charged off
down the road.

The
world continued to spin as I zipped past traffic and out onto the
freeway, taking the quick coastal road to avoid traffic.
Ah
great, roadworks.

I was thankful for my bike, letting me
skip past the waiting cars, all honking their horns, their drivers
sitting impatiently behind their wheels. Not something you wanna be
doing on a warm Saturday, the beaches and national parks awaiting the
many families cooped up in their tin shells. I'd never owned a car
and never wanted one; my bike and I were born to be together.

I swerved this way and that, cutting
cars off here and there. They'd shout and honk their horns, but I
didn't care. In fact, I kind liked the attention.

My
head was still pounding.
Never
again. Sure, I'll believe that when I see it.

It didn't go on long though, the
traffic. Within a few minutes I was escaping on the other side, my
bike set free from its shackles, able to stretch its legs. I headed
for the fast lane, shooting my way up the highway, checking out any
hot girls in their convertibles as I went. I always got a lot of
attention on my bike. I guess the girls liked it, that bad boy image.

A few other cars were cruising along at
speed. I always noticed that; how cars would often go faster after
roadworks to make up time. There was one that stuck out though: a
simple station wagon among the sports cars and land cruisers. I
laughed in my head as I saw the driver from behind: a middle aged
woman, hunched up in her seat, clutching tightly on the steering
wheel.

She looked to have a younger girl
beside her, daughter maybe. Time to check her out.

I
zipped my bike up and around the passenger side of the car, slowly
catching up and peering in to get a better look. I recognized the
face as soon as I approached: it was Grace, that girl from the double
date with Brad. Must have been 5 months ago now.
Damn
she's looking hot.

I
saw her turn towards me, looking at me inquisitively. She couldn't
see me though, not under my helmet.
I
wonder if she'd remember me if she could?
I
wonder where she's going?

I dropped back after a few moments,
letting off the gas and gliding slowly in behind them.

Oh fuck!

A car was approaching behind them as I
pulled back, having to swerve slightly to accommodate me as I moved
in behind Grace's car. The car moved to the left, hitting the back
left side of Grace's car with a thud.

The car started lurching from side to
side, the driver trying to keep control by turning into their
momentum. She braked as I slowed behind them, not quite knowing where
to go and, suddenly, out of nowhere, the car turned, twisting ninety
degrees and flipping over onto its side, barrel rolling across the
highway as glass shattered everywhere and sparks flew.

Shit, what the hell have I done!

The car carried on spinning violently
across the road, rotating a couple of times before settling down on
its back and sliding another ten or so meters along the tarmac. I
looked in my rearview mirror to see cars screeching to a halt behind
me, several of them crashing into each other to avoid the crash
ahead.

My bike came to a stop alongside the
wreckage as I jumped off and scrambled towards the car. I paced
straight round to the passengers side and dropped to the floor,
cutting my hands on broken glass as I crawled.

I saw Grace, dangling from her strap, a
gash to the side of her head dripping blood, cuts all over her pretty
face. I clambered into the wreckage without thinking, reaching up to
support her head as I tried to release the strap. It clicked and her
bodyweight slumped into my arms, the blood streaming from her head
onto my sleeve.

I heard a clamouring behind me as
people gathered to help, indecipherable noise amid the chaos. I
smelled gasoline and looked to see the back of the car dripping, the
coiled wreckage spewing up its fuel.

I need to get her out.

Hands and faces appeared at the door,
reaching in to help. I twisted my body inside the tomb of twisted
metal and pulled Grace towards the opening, supporting her head and
neck as carefully as possible. There was no time for anything else,
no time for stretchers and supports.

“
Pull
her out,” I called urgently to the faces at the door. “Support
her neck and head.”

They pulled her carefully to safety as
I saw sparks cracking from the back of the car. “Get out, get out
now,” I heard from outside as I turned to see the driver dangling
awkwardly, her body limp and lifeless.

I stretched further and reached for her
strap to free her. It was twisted and caught, unwilling to come free.
Outside people were trying to pry open the fused door on the drivers
side, the bent metal locking her in.

“
A
knife,” I shouted, “I need a knife.”

I felt for a pulse as the people
outside started searching for a knife to cut her free. It was faint,
her heart beginning to falter. The sparks continued to fly at the
back of the wreckage, each one threatening to light up the fuel and
turn the car into a fireball.

“
There's
no knife, get out now,” I heard from outside as I felt people grip
at my legs. “You have to get out, it's going to catch fire,” they
shouted as they pulled, inching me further from the woman caught in a
web of metal and fabric, the seatbelt holding her fast.

I pulled furiously at her, my mind
frantic as I was dragged from the car. She wouldn't budge, wouldn't
move. I looked to the back of the car to see the sparks shooting at
the gathering pool of gas, one of them catching light and quickly
sending the inside into an inferno.

I tugged once more but it was no use,
the heat beginning to build inside as people outside scattered. The
last two men at my feet urged me to let go, heaving my body from the
car with one final pull as I finally relented. I saw the flames
advancing, licking at the woman's clothes, darkening her skin as my
body was torn from the vehicle, dragged back across the tarmac to
safety as the car was engulfed in flames.

The faint wail of the emergency
services could be heard in the distance as I looked back to Grace.
Several people were around her offering assistance, checking her
breathing, stabilizing her wounds. My mind was all over the place,
unable to catch up with what had happened.

Instinct took over as I lurched towards
my bike and pulled it to it's wheels. I realized only now that I
still had my helmet on as I kicked the bike to life, hurtling back
down the highway to shouts from the crowd. Shouts asking where I was
going, why I was going. Shouts telling me that I was a hero.

I didn't feel like one.  

September 8
^th
2012

Cain

I woke up suddenly, images littering my
brain, keeping me from sleeping, keeping me from eating, forcing me
to drink. I turned on the light and leaned up in bed. It was soaked
in sweat, my body dripping.

I looked down at my hands, covered in
cuts, covered in bruises. It was a familiar sight, but usually for a
different reason. This time I was haunted by it.

It had been three days and three nights
since I'd caused the crash, since I'd saved Grace from it, since I'd
seen her mother burn to death in front of my eyes. The news had told
me that, told me that it was her mother, that Grace was stable in
hospital. I was at least thankful for that.

The news also called me a hero. Some
guy had caught the whole thing on their phone, showing me jump off my
bike and dive straight into the wreckage. It showed me save Grace,
try to save her mom. I looked like a hero, but I wasn't one.

No one knew it was me though. I never
had time to take off my helmet, didn't have time to think. I was
being called a 'mystery hero', the police urging me to come forward.
I was never going to do that - never.

I didn't know why the other driver
hadn't told them what happened. Hadn't told them that I'd spun into
their way, forcing them to swerve and hit Grace's car. It wasn't
their fault, it was mine. But I guess they didn't want to be part of
it either, didn't want to get caught with the blame. How they must be
feeling, and it was all my fault.