“You didn’t fight for her, Rafe,” Hilary wailed, her thin pale, hands gripping at her husband’s arm like a life-line.
“You knew how impetuous she was, that she acted without thinking. You could have waited until you were back in the country before going ahead with the divorce.”
“And she could not have sent me divorce papers through the mail, Hilary. I was in the middle of a war zone when I received them. Did Angie consider me when she did that?”
“She was acting out, trying to get attention from her absent husband,” Arthur scoffed, excusing Angie’s spoilt behaviour like he always did.
“Absent? It is my job for the love of God. She knew this when she married me, and she knew where I was heading for a career. It was her that backflipped, not me.”
“If you were half the man she thought you were, you would have given it up instead of taking off for months at a time, leaving her to her own devices in that hovel you made her live in.”
Laughing humourlessly, I gave into my anger.
“Like she stayed there while I was gone. I know the minute I left to go back, she hightailed it back to the mansion she grew up in. Angie didn’t do one hard minute on her own and you know it. You two mollycoddled her, and she didn’t know how to be an adult because you were there with your money. She didn’t know how to live on a budget because of you! So don’t throw shit in my face, you can have your idiotic party but I won’t be attending.” Throwing open the door, I stomped down the path and away from my stunned former in-laws, passing a smiling Nicole.
“Step one Rafe, good for you,” she whispered, giving me a pat on the shoulder as she passed me.
Step one, but why did it feel like I was still sinking in wet sand? Three years was enough for penance, wasn’t it? I was done with guilt and sorrow, staring at an unresponsive woman who I didn’t know anymore. Hell, I forgot most of the good times Angie and I had in the early days. The fighting and anger replacing all those memories.
I wanted to make new memories and feel something other than remorse.
I wanted to feel a woman’s soft, naked body writhing under me.
I wanted to be touched, to be kissed, to hear sweet feminine moans.
I wanted Peyton.
To hear her scream my name, to feel her body shudder when I entered her for the first time. To make love to the fairy floss-haired beauty and see in her eyes the passion I so badly wanted to create with her.
Reaching the car, I pressed the button on the fob and sank down into the leather bucket seat, and inhaled deeply.
Peyton.
Bunny.
Fuck, I hope I am ready for her.
***
Heading down the Midland Highway, I breathed a sigh of relief when the sign Welcome to Ballarat came into view. After one hundred and twenty kilometres of practically holding my breath, my knuckles turning white and aching from gripping the steering wheel so tight and my mind going a hundred miles an hour. Bouncing back and forth from anger and guilt, it was all really starting to take its toll on me. For a minute, I thought about taking the exit to the Souls compound and grabbing a bottle of Tequila, finding a quiet corner, and drinking myself into oblivion. That idea had merit, and I could really use a drink after months of abstinence while away on deployment. Even last night at the party, I only had one drink of light beer because I was too wound up from the flight home and because I wanted to see Peyton so badly. Seeing her, making sure she was okay, came first.
Choosing to turn left instead of right, the traffic in front of me flowed harmoniously, giving me a rest from concentrating so much on my driving and more time to ponder how I was going to approach Peyton when I got back to her place. Not being from Ballarat originally, I didn’t have a place here, not one with my name on the lease. I had my unit in Queenscliff with the others and in Bendigo, I rented a room at the back of a pub close to the facility Angie was in for nothing more than a place to sleep. I paid the publican a yearly amount for the room, and he in turn, made sure no one went in there. I never kept too much there, but I was a suspicious person by nature and very private. Those two traits served me well as a sniper and when coming into contact with an enemy. Trust was a big thing in my team, we trusted each other explicitly, but I found it hard to trust outside that group of five men.
Shiloh and Booth always let me stay at the compound whenever Team FIVE were in town. The club also owned the unit complex near the base which saved us a lot of money. I enjoyed being at the compound and never worried about strangers going into my room while not there. The original Souls had a level of respect and trust to be envied, they were loyal and I liked that about them.
Lately, however, I had been hanging out at Peyton’s more often when in Ballarat. At first, it was to keep her safe with the threat of Justin still being on the run. Peyton had such a hard time dealing with her anxiety over the fire I kind of talked myself into the frame of mind that was the only reason. Of course, I was shitting myself and everyone else with that load of crap. Carrying Peyton out of the burning building that night, something in me switched. A raw, fiery spark ignited in me the second she looked at me with those magnificent eyes, the way she held onto me, refusing to let me go. Every cell in my body screamed at me that she was the one, every part of my DNA demanded I claim her as mine and never let her go. Of course I didn’t, but I did insert myself into her life in other ways. Becoming friends might have given me the longest case of blue balls, but she let me in, and for that, I was grateful. Six months of torturing myself with nights on the couch holding her, smelling her sweet scent, and being with her, refusing to acknowledge that there was something more between us.
Something special, but unattainable. Until now. I hope.
I’d already sent Peyton a text before leaving Bendigo to let her know I was heading back a day early. I had to report back at the base in two days, and I’d rather spend those days with her than staring at my comatose ex-wife and fighting with her parents, and I absolutely did not have any intention of attending a birthday party for her.
Travelling down the familiar streets, turning right, passing by the vet clinic where Peyton works, I pushed the speed limit to the max until a little house with a bright red, tin roof came into view, my car still parked in the drive under the carport as if it belonged there.
Fuck, it looked good sitting there on Peyton’s property.
Swinging into the drive, I parked her ute behind my Kingswood, immediately knowing it had not been moved since I left early this morning, which meant Peyton either walked to work or she caught a lift with Addy. A grin lifted at the corners of my mouth, she was stubborn, my Bunny. Leaving my car there and walking, so it appeared someone was home. It pissed me off that she went to such lengths to feel safe in her own home, in the place she lived and worked.
The club had feelers out for Justin, but so far, he was keeping himself underground whether on his own or with some help by a person or persons unknown … but not for long.
Booth had a long and far reach, the AFP, for example. Mannix’s son James had been brought in six months ago when it all went down, his involvement, however, was coming to an end. Gabe mentioned something about James wanting to retire from the AFP, needing to do something different with his life. I wasn’t privy to what brought about this turnaround. James was a good man, and a dedicated cop. His concern over Peyton and Addy showed in his determination to catch Justin and make him face his crimes. Justin had a real problem and, in my opinion, a death wish, going not only after the club’s business but also Booth’s nephew’s woman. He also tried intimidating Bastian’s wife, Wren, before they married.