Decipher (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #3) (4 page)

“Nope. This one is the closest. We’re just down the hall, remember?”

She gave a small nod.

“So, are you happy with this room then?” I asked as I sat on her bed again.

“Can we leave the light on?”

“We can look at getting a night light for the hall if you like? Will that work?”

She gave me another little nod.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then. When you and Mummy move in, we’ll paint the room any colour you want.”

“Daddy?” She looked up at me from beneath her lashes. It was a look Alyssa had perfected years earlier. One that made me willing to agree to almost anything. With little gestures like that, the resemblance between mother and daughter was uncanny. Except for the colour of Phoebe’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Can I sleep with you? Just one night?”

There was no point even trying to resist. I had no idea how I would survive the two of them, but I also knew I couldn’t survive without them. “Sure, sweetheart. Just for tonight though.”

I picked her up and carried her back to my bedroom where Alyssa was fast asleep. The moment I placed Phoebe on the bed, she climbed next to Alyssa and snuggled against her shoulder. Even though I was tired as fuck, I had to take a moment just to watch and appreciate how much my life had changed. I’d experienced what my life would be like if I lost them; I never wanted to feel it again.

CHAPTER FOUR: RELEASE

WHAT FOLLOWED WAS a terrible night of sleep, made worse by the tiny foot shoved in my face for a while. Then kicked against the green-yellow bruises along my ribs. Then buried in my armpit. I’d never known anyone who fidgeted so damn much while they slept. Even after getting to sleep between Alyssa and me, Phoebe still woke at regular intervals.

I was torn from sleep by the sound of the phone in my study ringing. Although getting up was the last thing I wanted to do, I didn’t want the noise to wake up Alyssa or Phoebe. I raced downstairs to answer it.

Even before I said hello, I’d guessed who it might be. The international beeps only strengthened my suspicion. There were only a few people who would be calling me from overseas, and I didn’t think Morgan would be calling while he was in race-preparation mode. If at all.

As soon as the caller spoke, my assumption was confirmed: Paige Wood, the owner of Wood Racing, and Sinclair Racing’s rival. The call wasn’t exactly unexpected. Not after everything that happened and my conversation with Alyssa about the possible reasons for the in-depth and highly damning magazine coverage.

“I heard the unfortunate news,” Paige said, almost sounding sincere. My sacking from Sinclair Racing had yet to be announced publicly, but she’d found out anyway. Most likely she’d heard it from one of the boys in Bahrain. Gossip spread fast through the pits, after all.

Or maybe she’d made an assumption based on her prior knowledge of what the magazine article would contain. Danny’s expectation of loyalty wasn’t exactly a state secret. It wouldn’t have taken much to use it against me. A few tugged strings to get a photographer to snap a photo of me sitting at the Wood Racing table would do it. Added to the history I had with Paige—history I’d hoped hadn’t made its way to Danny’s ears but that Danny’s wife, Hazel, had witnessed herself at Bathurst—it would have been far too easy for her to set me up.

“Yeah, well, these things happen, don’t they?” I didn’t feel like chatting idly on the phone with her. More than anything, I wanted to demand whether she’d been involved in the destruction of my reputation, but I couldn’t accuse her of anything without proof.

“You do know that this setback need not be the end of your career, don’t you?”

What’s her game?

“I mean, I’m right in assuming you’re free of your contract now?” Even down the telephone line, I could hear her Cheshire cat grin. It confirmed for me that she wasn’t just lucky to be the one who’d been courting me prior to my unceremonious dumping.

“So what if I am?”

“Well, it leaves you free to discuss your options elsewhere, doesn’t it? Like I said, it doesn’t have to be the end. There are other teams willing to get behind you. Team owners who’d just love to have you.”

“I’m not looking to race anywhere else, Paige.” My voice was cool as I ignored the innuendo in her tone. When I said her first name, I said it with such contempt it had to show my complete lack of respect for her.

“You know you’ll always have a position available under me. I can use a driver with your . . . skills.” The pathetic cougar was trying to lure me with techniques that might have worked six months ago, but had lost all of their power now that I was back with Alyssa.

I’d tried the softly-softly approach in telling her I wasn’t interested in racing for her, but I couldn’t do it any longer. There was only one way I could face the situation: head-on. Fuck the evidence, I’d call her out. There was no point just standing around and shooting the shit on the phone when there was no doubt left in me that even if she hadn’t coordinated it somehow, she’d known about the article. “Did you have something to do with this?”

“With what, darling?”

“With the article.”

She laughed, each of the shrill vibrations sounding less sincere than the last. “How would I have any influence over what goes to print at a gossip rag?”

The words and her tone made it sound like a lie. If I hadn’t already been convinced, it would have been proof enough for me. “You turned me into a fucking liability.”

Her throaty chuckle came down the line again and I wanted nothing more than to reach down the phone line and cram something into her mouth.

“I did no such thing, my dear. But you should know even the biggest liability can be turned into an asset, with the right amount of spin.”

Sick of her voice, of her laugh, of everything about her, I decided to end the charade of polite conversation. “Why don’t you go spin on it?”

“You’re turning me down?” She seemed genuinely confused, as though everything had been a done deal. In her mind, it probably was.

I had no doubts left that she’d had it planned for a while. The timing might have been pure luck on her part, because I was in Brisbane at just the right moment with just the right reason to attend the fundraiser, but I was certain if it hadn’t been then and there, some other fabricated bullshit would have caused my downfall. “Yeah, I’m turning you down. I’m a Sinclair man through and through.”

“Sinclair is done with you, boy. They chewed you up and spat you out. No one else will want their leftovers.”

I chuckled at the way she’d turned. Her true colours were definitely on display. “You obviously do.”

“This position was an act of charity. A last-ditch effort to save your career before you pissed it down the toilet.”

“Well, you can shove your charity up your fucking arse, Paige. I don’t want it.”

She blustered and muttered a few words I’d never heard from someone who pretended to be so refined before hanging up the phone. Good riddance. I’d rather never drive again than go work for her.

I headed back to bed, ready to enjoy a lie-in with my girls, but Alyssa stopped me halfway up the stairs.

She put her hand on my chest and gave me a wary smile—no doubt still coming to terms with everything that had unfolded in the last two days. I sure as shit knew I still was.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Paige Wood.”

The corners of her mouth twisted like she’d tasted something bad. “And?”

“And I’m pretty sure we’re right that she’s part of it. I just wish I knew how.” The why seemed pretty fucking obvious after her phone call. 

Alyssa lifted her hand and brushed her fingers through my hair. “We’ll figure it out together. But first, let’s get started on a game plan. She’s asleep again for the moment,” she said, indicating my room where Phoebe had obviously settled again.

With Alyssa at my side, we headed back to my study to dig out my contract with Sinclair Racing. While she wasn’t looking, I slid the letters I’d written her into a drawer, embarrassed that I’d been such a pussy when I’d thought she was gone. Every word was the truth, but I didn’t need her to see my weakness.

After an hour of studying every clause and paragraph, she declared there was nothing I could do to fight the dismissal. The contract was lopsided, with the power almost completely in Danny’s court. I couldn’t cancel early without penalties, but Danny had ultimate veto over the agreement and could cancel it at his own discretion. I kicked myself for not having someone more skilled than my fuckhead father go over it to ensure it was fair. Then again, Danny might never have signed me if he hadn’t had an easy out. After all, I’d been young and stupid when he’d drafted me.

Dropping into my office chair, I buried my head in my hands. “What am I going to do, Lys? Racing’s the only thing I know.”

Even as the words came out, it struck me that it was an opening for a great big fucking
I told you
so if she was so inclined. If I’d gone to uni like she’d wanted me to, if I’d had a backup plan of any sort, I wouldn’t be completely screwed. But I might not have ever had the chance to race either.

Instead of an
I told you so
though, she reached over and grabbed my hand in hers. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll work something out. There are other teams. Maybe there’s a way to get you onto one of them.”

I stood and paced away from her. “Why would they take me though? It’d be a PR nightmare for them.” I didn’t add the bigger concern, that most other teams would mean moving away from Sydney. Neither did I admit that I wasn’t sure whether I even wanted to race for anyone but Sinclair. They’d been my home for almost four years, and I knew what to expect. I knew the cars, the crew, and the inner workings. A new team would be an unknown entity.

“Not necessarily. People have been through worse scandals and come out with their careers intact.”

“How?”

“It’s all about how you handle the next few weeks.”

I moved back to her side. “Okay. So what do you suggest?”

Even as the words left me, a sense of relief flowed over me that she was in my corner and fighting for me. I was certain if I had to face it alone, I’d have cracked and be somewhere at the bottom of a vodka bottle by now.

“I think we need to present a united front. Both of us in front of the media to prove there’s no scandal.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not dragging you through the mud just to find a fucking job.”

She rested her head on my shoulder and linked her fingers with mine. “You did read the article, didn’t you? I’ve been dragged. This is about showing all of those people who tried to hurt us that we’re stronger than that.”

Her words meant more to me than I could ever express. “God, I love you, Lys. I—I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I kissed the top of her head. “Are you sure you’re ready for this though?”

“No. But I’m ready for us, and that’s enough for now.”

What she didn’t say was as clear as what she did. It was make or break time for my life. I had to stand up and be ready to claim what I wanted as soon as the opportunity arose, or I would risk missing out. She’d proven her faith in me, that I had her trust, and now I just had to keep it.

No more fuck-ups.

Not long after, Phoebe woke up in tears, sobbing because she’d woken alone and hadn’t recognised her surroundings. Alyssa had raced to her side before bringing her down to the kitchen for some breakfast.

Guilt wracked me that I couldn’t provide an environment to make my own fucking daughter feel safe. Feeling the familiar spiral of panic sinking into my stomach, I closed my eyes and took two deep breaths. Alyssa clearly picked up on my mood because she came up to me and grabbed my hand in hers. As it always seemed to, her touch instantly tugged me back from the edge.

“It’ll take some time for her to settle in.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is? I want everything to be okay for her.”

“Just wait until we’ve moved in properly, and all of our stuff is here. It’ll make it easier.”

“Really?” It was hard not to be insecure when it came to Phoebe’s happiness. Or Alyssa’s.

“She’ll be drawing on the walls and running around like she owns the place before long.”

“Drawing on the walls?” I swallowed down the swear words that rose to the tip of my tongue. I may have been happy to have her paint her room whatever fucking colour she wanted, but that was worlds away from vandalising the goddamned walls.

Alyssa leaned back and grinned at me. “Dec, she’s three. It’s inevitable.”

“So what are you saying? That I should just let her get away with it?”

Alyssa’s grin morphed into laughter. “No. She’s three; she still needs discipline. I’m just trying to get you to understand the level of crazy that comes with having a live-in toddler.”

Even as she said the words, Phoebe saw the two of us in an embrace and rushed to our side, once again mashing her face between our legs.

“There are benefits though,” I said.

Alyssa just laughed.

“What?”

“Toddler. Remember?”

Wondering what the hell Alyssa was talking about, I glanced down. Fucking hell. Running from just behind my knee around to my shin was a huge smear of vegemite, butter, and crumbs from Phoebe’s hands.

Alyssa picked Phoebe up to rest on her hip. “Are you finished with your breakfast?”

Phoebe nodded as she sucked on one of her vegemite-coated hands. Did any of it stay on the fucking toast?

“Do you mind getting the dishes while I do this?”

I flashed her a smile. “I’m sure I can manage that.”

What I hadn’t realised was that doing the dishes included wiping down the entire fucking table because somehow Phoebe had got vegemite over at least a third of it.

Fuck, kids were messy.

Messy, but worth it.

I SPENT the better part of my day with my girls, mostly running around the backyard and trying to push everything out of my mind. A little after five, Eden came to visit with a copy of a press release from Sinclair Racing. We set Phoebe up with a Wiggles DVD and sat at the dining table to chat.

With an apology on her lips, Eden passed the soon-to-be-issued document to me. The release announced my termination from the team. My heart shattered as I read the words ready to go to all major press agencies in the country. My termination in black and white. The devastation that swept through me made one thing clear: at least a part of me had been hoping for a last-minute reprieve. For Danny to call and say he’d made a mistake and had reconsidered.