Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3) (24 page)

“I guess I don’t. I mean, if you can deal with me hanging with Flynn, I can extend the same courtesy, right?”

I nodded, but used the opportunity to redirect to another issue I’d been meaning to raise with her but hadn’t. “You know what burns me the most there?”

“What?”

“That it’s still Flynn’s name on the certificates.”

“Shit, we were going to fix that, weren’t we? Sorry, Dec, there’s just been so much going on. I hadn’t even thought—”

“I understand, Lys. I really do, but now . . . I don’t know. I guess I want the world to know she’s mine. To celebrate that fact.”

“The world hardly looks at birth certificates.”

“You know what I mean. How do we do it?”

She nodded. “It’ll probably be best if we have DNA tests done to make sure there are no hiccups in the process. That’ll be undeniable proof that there was a mistake on the original certificates.”

“Won’t that paint you as some sort of hussy who slept with more than one man and didn’t know the real father?”

A laugh slipped past her lips. “Hussy? Really, does anyone even use that word anymore, Dec?”

Ignoring her remark, I pressed my question. “But you’re okay with people thinking that?” If she was hesitant or worried about it, she didn’t show it.

“It’s better if the world thinks that, considering the alternative is that I falsified a legal document, which is much worse, especially when I’m supposed to be getting into law soon.”

“There were extenuating circumstances though.”

“I know. It’s stupid. I would’ve preferred to keep it blank, but there was just too much paperwork for me to cope with on my own. I was drowning and all I wanted to do was sink under it all. If it hadn’t been for Phoebe needing me and Flynn supporting me however he could, I don’t think I would’ve kept afloat.”

My heart broke listening to her and once again, I wondered whether I’d ever fully understand just how hard that time was for her. All of my pain—all of the agony that had torn through me after learning the truth—was removed from the heartbreaking events by time and distance.

“Can we play soccer ’gain, Daddy?” Phoebe asked as she came running back into the room with a pair of pink sandals with Velcro straps on her feet.

Alyssa swiped her fingers under her eyes, wiping tears that I hadn’t even seen fall. A smile lifted her lips and the mask was back in place. I wrapped my hand around hers and led them both out to the car. We could have walked, but it would have been well after dark before we got home, and I for one didn’t plan on fighting away the mozzies and midges. Plus, it was easier hiding from the pap in a car.

Later that night, Alyssa jumped online and booked to have DNA testing done and also started the process of amending the birth certificates. I had no idea how we’d get to the facility without the paparazzo following us, but we’d deal with that when it came. 

Slowly, but surely, the pieces were coming together.

WHEN WE woke Monday, it was with a little trepidation, because the
Woman’s Idea
article was due to hit the stands within twenty-four hours. It could only go three ways. Either it’d go over well with the sponsors and public, and things would start to turn away from the constant negative press, it would be slammed as nothing more than a publicity stunt, or it would be ignored completely by everyone. As much as I hoped for the former, I thought it was much more likely to be the latter. People just didn’t seem to buy the magazines for the happy stories, only the fucked-up ones.

I just hoped that the bastards who’d set me up so far didn’t take it as an excuse for a renewed attack, but there was little I could do about it.

Around lunchtime, the calls started.

For me, it was Eden first, calling to congratulate me. There was no doubt in my mind that she’d already seen the article when I’d emailed it to Danny. When I confronted her about it she just laughed and said that it looked better in the full-gloss magazine.

Then it was a few other drivers I’d been on the track with. Each one told me that their wives or girlfriends had purchased the magazine and shown them—even the ones that I was certain had neither a wife nor a girlfriend—and that they wanted to offer me their support.

For Alyssa, it started with her mother. Ruth called and gushed over the article, spouting about how happy she was to see us so happy. So in love. She demanded we investigate the possibility of getting some of the photos for her too.

Around four, my phone rang again with a Brisbane number. The first person that sprang to mind was my cockhead father. Considering his little bit on the side—if they were even still together—was so heavily into the gossip magazines, I had no doubt she’d have seen the cover with Alyssa and me staring into each other’s eyes with a hunger and need that was unmistakable. I wondered what he would have thought about the proceeds being donated to charity. He was probably having conniptions over the fact that we’d never see a cent.

Good.

With the expectation that he was the one calling, I moved away from Alyssa and Phoebe and answered the phone with a, “What do you want?”

“Declan, wonderful article in
Woman’s Idea.
Absolutely darling!” The voice wasn’t the one I was expecting. Instead, the smooth tones of a female voice filled my ear.

“Ms. Wood.” Even though she wasn’t exactly top of my list to talk to, it would at least give me a chance to put my plan in place.

“I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered your position on the driver role I have here for you? It’s ripe and ready for the plucking if you want it.”

I glanced through the window at my family. Fuck, Alyssa would be pissed if she knew what I was about to do, but I didn’t have much choice. I had to do what I could to look out for my family. And that meant finding a way to show the haters and the doubters, the ones who’d try to hurt us and pull us apart, that we were as solid as a fucking rock and that they would be better off backing the fuck off rather than push me. “Yeah, actually I have. And I’m definitely considering it.”

“You are?” It was the reason she’d called, and yet she sounded surprised as fuck at my answer.

“Yeah. It’s just, well, I was wondering whether you might be able to do something for me before we talked more about it.”

“Anything.” She was almost too eager. Something told me things weren’t as rosy at Wood Racing as she’d have everyone believe.

“Have you got tickets to the New Year’s Masquerade Ball?” I figured she would; they usually went to all the local charity events, and even Sinclair Racing came up to Brisbane every year for the event. It was the reason I’d even been there, and how I’d hooked up with Darcy. Even if they didn’t, I figured if things were so bad that she needed star power enough to launch the dirty campaign against me, she’d do whatever it took to get the tickets I wanted.

“We have a table.”

“I’d like to come along and discuss my options with you there, if you’re attending. I think it’s fitting, don’t you? Considering that we might be unmasking my future in the sport and all that.”

“Of course, and I assume you will need more than one ticket?”

“Yeah, one other. Can, uh, can you send it out for me though? I have a different woman in mind and don’t want to have to explain that to anyone else.”

“Trouble in paradise already, young Declan? Is your girl not woman enough for you?”

I forced a laugh. “You know how it is. There’s only so much you can drink from the same well without craving a different taste. And what my family doesn’t know won’t hurt them, right?” Even saying the words made me feel sick. I was trying so damn hard to implicate myself without saying anything that would be regarded as concrete evidence if she were recording the conversation—I wouldn’t put it past her—but I had to give her enough to be convincing.

“I can appreciate that. Why do you think I’ve never stayed married for long?” She gave her throaty, I’m-so-sexy laugh that probably would have made old me’s dick stand on end. Instead, my cock hung flaccid between my thighs, waiting to come alive at Alyssa’s command. “So where can I send the other ticket?”

I gave her Darcy’s address. “And can you send a note with it?”

“Of course. Anything for my new star driver.”

It was almost too fucking easy. “Okay, I want it to read, ‘It might not be New Year’s but I’m humbly requesting a do-over. DR.’ Have you got that?”

“Every word. I don’t suppose I can tempt you to come in to see me earlier and start on some of the negotiations?”

“Sorry, Paige,” I said her name with as much honey in my voice as I could muster. “Alyssa has been watching me like a hawk while she plans her move to Sydney. She’s agreed to let me find out more about this ball because it’s for charity. Besides, it’s not that far away anyway.”

“Can I take it that this, Alyssa was it? That she’s moving to Sydney regardless of where you drive?”

“That’s right. But I’ve gotta have my own priorities sorted, right? I’d be an idiot to throw away something so important over something so insignificant.” Not one word was a lie. It was hardly my fault that Paige would interpret it to mean that I wouldn’t leave a job for a relationship and not the other way around.

“I think that’s very reasonable. I’m sure if it’s needed, I can find you some accommodation near headquarters until you’re back on your feet.”

I could imagine. The room would probably come with an all-you-can-eat Paige Wood buffet. A shudder ran down my spine at the thought. How could I have ever had the slightest interest in her when I had someone like Alyssa waiting for me the whole time?

After we’d said goodbye, I headed inside. Phase one of getting revenge on those who’d tried to ruin my life was set. Morgan would help with the planning of phase two on the weekend. Then all I had to do was wait for the pieces to fall into place. In the meantime, there was little more I could do but keep organising our move and doing what I could to look out for my family.

“Everything okay?” Alyssa asked around Phoebe, who was curled against her chest, fast asleep.

“Perfect,” I said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: TESTING

THE DAYS SLIPPED away like laps at Bathurst, each one passing in a blur as a set-up for the next big one. The move, the ball—
Christmas
—everything was so close, and barrelling down the straight far too fast.

It was amazing just how quickly time went with them at my side. More amazing was how fast I’d settled into the whole domestic scene that I’d once avoided like the plague. Existing on a diet of takeout and booze had been fine when I was single, but it wasn’t like Alyssa or Phoebe could, or should, live the same way. While Alyssa cooked most nights, there were some nights I had to. The ones where she was at work, it was step up to the plate or risk a super-tantrum from a hungry toddler. Given a choice between the stove and Phoebe, I knew which one I was more willing to fight.

Because Alyssa only worked a few nights a week, Phoebe didn’t need to go to day care anymore, and I had no other place I needed to be, we spent most of our time together. We went to the park as often as we could, and tried to ensure Phoebe had as much quality time with both of us as she could, considering we had no idea what to expect when our lives started over again in Sydney.

I was so determined to make the most of our time in Brisbane that I arranged playdates for Phoebe with Ben and his kids. We even managed a dual family outing to the movies one day. It ended up as a disaster because none of the kids would sit still long enough to get through the movie, but it was a good day anyway.

Outside of that though, Alyssa and I mostly cleaned and packed her house. I had no idea there was so much involved. When I’d moved to Sydney, I had a suitcase full of clothes, and that was about it. Everything else stayed with Mum and Dad.

As the days had gone by, Alyssa’s place had become less and less a home, and more and more just a house, as every bit of personality was stripped away and boxed up. We were constantly busy, but it still felt like there was a pause button over our lives, as if they wouldn’t truly begin until the new year. Until we were all settled into our new life in Sydney.

The closer it got to the day Alyssa and Phoebe would be moving in with me permanently, the air between Alyssa and me seemed to grow thicker. Or maybe I just imagined it because of the blanket of guilt I’d wrapped myself in ever since the phone call with Paige.

Even though I probably should have told Alyssa of my plan, I didn’t. I was certain she’d only tell me to stop. Only because she didn’t understand. She’d already moved on, and had said she was happy it was all behind us now. That she was ready to move on with the next part of our life.

As much as I wanted what she said to be true, it wasn’t for me. Mostly because she didn’t need revenge like I did. She was too forgiving, but I couldn’t be. Not when our future happiness could be attacked. I needed everyone who’d hurt her—who’d tried to hurt me—to burn. I needed to look in the eyes of every person who’d tried to bring me down—and very damn near succeeded—and show them all how happy I was. How happy we both were.

If I didn’t make them pay, how could I ever really be free? When the tables finally turned, and I had them crushed and disappointed at my feet, maybe then I could let it go and move on in peace. Even though I couldn’t bring Alyssa in on the plan, I was certain she’d thank me once it had all gone down. She’d be just as happy as me to rub their noses in the fact that they’d not only failed to bring us down but had given us the chance to be stronger than anyone could have imagined.

After all, if Tillie and Talia hadn’t run that first article, Alyssa and I might have never been forced together on the plane to London. I would never have learned the truth about Phoebe and Emmanuel, and we certainly wouldn’t be planning to move all of her shit into my house.

In just a few more weeks.

Around the family stuff, my night out with Morgan had come and gone in a flash. Just like he’d promised, he’d played his part perfectly, getting me a pair of tickets to the New Year’s Masquerade Ball, and booking a room at the Suncrest, where the ball was being held this year.

He’d had another surprise for me too. Tickets to the last race of the season. “I can’t exactly celebrate stealing the championship from you without you there, can I?” he’d said as he’d given me the details and insisted I attend. It was close to my house, so at least I wouldn’t have to worry about accommodation.

Telling Alyssa about the trip was a dance around our feelings. A part of her obviously wanted me to go because I wanted it so badly, but it was also clear she didn’t want me to go. Because of that, there was a part of me that wanted to stay, even though I really wanted to be back at the track again. Neither of us wanted to disappoint the other, but she’d ended up winning—and losing at the same time. As much as I wanted to stay for her, I couldn’t say no to her when she told me to go.

Because I was going to be away for three days, and we still had to arrange the changes to the birth certificates, we’d planned a day in the city with just the two of us. Only the day before, we’d got the DNA results—which came back exactly as expected. I was Phoebe’s father, not that there’d ever been even the tiniest doubt.

“She’ll be fine,” I said reassuringly as Alyssa stared out the Prado window at her parents’ house. We’d just dropped Phoebe off to spend the day with them while we went into the city to organise all the shit we needed to do to lodge the forms to update Phoebe’s birth certificate.

Alyssa had agreed when I suggested I should wait in the car while she got Phoebe settled. The last time I’d been at the house was the disastrous reunion that had resulted in Josh and Curtis cornering me against the side of their house and trying to run me out of town, Wild West style. Considering it had almost worked, I understood Alyssa’s ready approval of my request.

“Think of it as an opportunity for them to spend some time together before we take her away,” I added. “We’ve only got a handful of weeks left in Brisbane now.”

“I know she’ll be fine.” Alyssa sighed. “Just dropping her off here, it’s a reminder that I won’t be able to do that soon. That we’re moving. It’s an adjustment, that’s all. This place is all I’ve ever really known, you know?”

My chest tightened as I wondered whether she was starting to regret her decision. I knew she trusted me. I knew she loved me. But in that moment, I wondered if it was enough. Was I being selfish asking her to move in with me so soon?

“Did you want to stay?”

She shook her head, and her hand came to rest on my thigh. “No. I’m happy about where I’m going . . . where
we’re
going,” she added with a smile. “And the job is what I’ve been working toward. I just can’t help feel a little sad about having to leave all this behind too. I guess in a perfect world, we could have it all. But if it was a perfect world—” She cut off and looked down at her hands. I didn’t have to ask what she was going to say because I already knew.

I picked up her hand and placed it against my lips, kissing it softly. I didn’t have words to comfort her, because they would just be trite and meaningless anyway.

“Do you think we can do a bit of Christmas shopping while we’re in the city?” she asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Of course.” The mention of the C-word was another sharp reminder that I’d soon be facing my first Christmas as a father. More than that, we’d be doing Christmas with Alyssa’s family, and staying through until New Year’s for the ball. So many challenges all lined up to greet me. All I could do was grin and bear each one as they came.

The positives were that ever since my phone call with Paige, our friendly neighbourhood pap had fucked off to whatever assignment his bitch of a boss had for him next. Which left us free to just be a family without being goaded into reacting negatively to bullshit, and also confirmed my suspicions that he’d only been following me to dig up more dirt.

It was good that he was off our back before we went to the clinic clearly marked as a DNA testing facility. And before we hit our itinerary for our city trip. DNA tests and trips to Births, Deaths, and Marriages weren’t exactly the sort of things you wanted random photographers following you to.

A little over an hour later, we’d completed all of the paperwork that would facilitate new birth certificates. The office had been a little cold, clinical, and the process had been free of emotion, and yet I was still a bundle of nerves by the time we left. It was like I was on my way to becoming official. 

“So this ball, is it really fancy? Can I still wear that same dress? I’m not sure I can afford a new one.” Alyssa’s stream of questions was obviously a way to fill the space between us as we walked back up to the Queen Street Mall.

After Morgan’s visit, I’d given Alyssa one of the tickets for the masquerade ball—at the Sinclair Racing table. Although she’d been reluctant at first, it wasn’t hard to convince her that we needed one last hurrah in Brisbane. A night out alone, without Phoebe, before moving into what would be our new life. After all, we’d barely spent much time alone, and when we arrived in Sydney we wouldn’t have much opportunity. Our only ready babysitter would be Eden, but that would mean leaving Phoebe with Morgan as well, which Alyssa wasn’t keen on.

“It’s a proper ball. You’ll need a proper gown, and I’ll have to wear my tux.” I’d packed it the last time I’d gone to Sydney in preparation for the night.

“Do you know how much ball gowns cost?”

“Surely there’s a way we can hire one or something?”

“Maybe . . .” She sighed. “And it’s here at the Suncrest isn’t it?”

“Yeah, in the same room we had our date.”

A dreamy look glazed her eyes for a moment. “It won’t be as good as that date.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It might be better.” After all, what better way to get my revenge on everyone who tried to break us apart than to propose to her in front of them all?

With a nod, she dragged me up the mall. She moved with such purpose I knew she had a destination in mind.

“Well, I guess if I have to hire something fancy, it makes sense to hire it from here. The place I got my formal dress is just around the corner here.”

Even though I would rather race for Paige than go spend time in a dress shop, I sucked it up and followed willingly behind her.

“ARE YOU sure about your plan of action?”

I sighed when Dr. Henrikson started up his psychobabble. Because I’d gone back up to Brisbane, he’d agreed to another phone session in place of my scheduled face-to-face visit.

During the call, after we’d celebrated my job at Sinclair Racing, I’d told him my plan to get my revenge and the girl all in one fell swoop. His reaction was less enthusiastic than I’d hoped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Let’s put aside the most obvious issue, about how unhealthy your need for revenge actually is, and deal with the next one. Are you sure marriage is a good idea after being reconciled for only a few months?”

“Of course I’m sure. I mean, getting engaged is hardly the same thing as being married. We can set a date a year away if she wants. Two. But we fucking love each other, and there’s Phoebe to consider. Her parents should be married.”

“Why?”

“Because parents should be married.”

“That’s quite an old-fashioned notion coming from someone with your past, Declan.”

“For an ex-manwhore, you mean?”

“That’s putting it in a slightly less eloquent way than I would have.”

I paced around Alyssa’s backyard as I spoke to him. “Fuck you. I’m full of old-fashioned fucking values. I just got a little lost along the way. I’m finding my way back now, thanks to her. I’d have thought you’d be fucking happy about my progress.”

“I am delighted with your progress. I just don’t want you to make any rash decisions while you are still in a transitional phase of your life.”

I gave a non-committal grunt in response.

“Putting that issue aside for the moment, there’s the bigger one to consider.”

I stopped midstride. “Which is what exactly?”

“How will Alyssa feel having her engagement linked with your desperation for revenge?”

“She . . .” I trailed off. “She’ll be . . . I don’t fucking know.” The truth was, I did know.

She was sentimental about shit like that. I’d probably have my balls cut off if I even tried it. But it would be the best revenge I could imagine and why shouldn’t I kill two birds with one stone? She’d understand.

“I would suspect she’d much rather the moment be meaningful just because of its significance for you as a couple, rather than because of some perceived justice you inferred from the event.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve never even spoken to her.”

“I know. Although as I’ve explained in the past, I would like to change that when you are comfortable—”

“We’re not doing fucking couples’ therapy. We don’t need that shit. We’re perfect. Better than fucking perfect. We’re so peachy-fucking-keen we may as well live in a fucking orchard.”

“If you say so, Declan.”

“I do.”

“Will you at least consider what I’ve said?”

I didn’t answer him. Even though I tried to resist it, his words had crept under my skin and were writhing like insects. Perhaps it was worth thinking things over after all. Regardless, I would still make everyone who’d hurt me, who’d hurt Alyssa, pay. He spent the rest of our call going over what he thought was the greater concern as he pleaded with me to reconsider getting revenge at all. His words mirrored Alyssa’s—be thankful it’s over. But neither of them understood just how ruthless Paige could be. As soon as my return to Sinclair became public, I’d probably have a team of reporters on my arse all over again.