I speed up and lose it on a corner, the wheels skidding out beneath me. I nearly roll the car. I correct myself as quickly as I can, and I drive around the next bend, immediately spotting two cars.
Ben has crashed into the car to stop it. It’s literally just happened. He hit the commodore in the driver’s side, causing the car to flip. Ben’s airbags have gone off, and he appears to be okay.
A gunshot fires from the car and I duck down.
I think Cole’s trapped inside. Did he just shoot her?
Tully?
I sprint for the car and a shot fires out at me, but I don’t stop. I hold up my weapon and shoot him through the window.
He slumps, bleeding from a gunshot wound straight to the head.
Tully is still unconscious in the passenger side, trapped by her legs.
“Tully, are you okay?” I whisper frantically. “Tully!” I cry. I can’t get to her.
She moves and puts her hand to her head, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. Relief washes over me, turning my skin cold at the thought of having lost her.
But she’s okay.
A police siren creeps in from the distance, and I know Ben has called for backup.
I drop to my knees as the lactic acid in my body takes over. “You okay?” I call to Ben.
“Yeah, man,” he calls back.
Fuck… that was close.
Tully
I lie in the hospital bed as they take my vitals. “I’m fine,” I sigh.
“You’re not fine,” Brock grunts. “You have a fractured cheekbone.”
“Which is going to be fixed after surgery tomorrow.”
Brock kisses my hand. He hasn’t left my side for two days. His family have all been to visit me, and Ben even bought Meredith in. It seems the boys all have a soft spot for her now. Callie has been here at night, too. Simon can’t come as he is in another hospital, but he’s called me every few hours. I’m blessed to have so many people care about me.
My mother smiles nervously from her chair across the room. I know she’s impressed with the way Brock is looking after me. I think she may finally be beginning to accept that Simon and I are just friends now. Watching her and Brock play nice to each other is really quite entertaining. They’re both being so polite, I fear I may be sick any moment. I know it’s completely for my benefit only, but I’ll enjoy the peace between them while it lasts… which I already know won’t be for long. Peter and my stepfather arrive, and I see anger flare to life in Brock’s eyes. He steps back and folds his arms over his chest, raising his chin as he glares at Peter. Arrogance personified.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello.” Peter smiles, glancing nervously between Brock and me. It’s obvious that he’s trying to work out if I told Brock about the little incident in the lab this week. Well, yes, I did. Peter stands at the back of the room next to my mother, scared to come too close to me.
“You gave us a fright, Tully,” Peter says.
I smile sleepily. “It’s all okay now, though.”
Peter nods as he watches me. “I thought it was Cole all along. I thought it was Cole, but I just couldn’t prove it,” he says.
Brock rolls his eyes in disgust. In the investigation with the police, and with the evidence Brock had on Peter socialising with the girls after hours, Peter has had to come clean about sleeping with the working girls. He’s saying it was for fun and that no deal was ever negotiated, but Brock doesn’t believe it for a moment.
Brock thinks that Peter falsely promised the girls protection in lieu of sex.
A crime that may never be proven. There is no proof. All the girls involved are dead now.
They weren’t protected at all.
“I just can’t believe that Cole was responsible for everything,” I say quietly.
“He’s blackmailed millions of dollars from wealthy businessmen and murdered thirteen innocent people,” Brock says. “Wendy Woo had secretly taped Cole threatening her if she didn’t blackmail another client, and he confessed to the other murders by telling her she would be next. Scared for her life she went to Chancellor, a man she trusted, and he had converted the file and put it onto a memory stick for her to hand into the police. But it never got there because she didn’t know who she could trust in the police department.” Brock side-eyes Peter again. Peter drops his head in shame. “So many innocent people died for no reason other than money,” Brock adds.
I frown as I listen. “At least Chancellor’s children know that he didn’t commit suicide,” I whisper. “And his wife knows everything now?” I ask Brock.
“Yeah, but she isn’t telling anyone the gory details, only that he was murdered. She doesn’t want his name dragged through the mud or his children to know that he had anything to do with those types of women,” Brock says. “How people can carry through with such atrocities for money is beyond me.” He stares down at me. I pick up his hand to kiss the back of it and he brushes the hair back from my forehead.
I smile up at him, and he bends and kisses me softly. “But you’re safe and that’s all I care about.
Brock
“I’m going to get going, Tull,” Peter eventually says.
“Okay.” She smiles softly. “Thanks for coming.”
He nods and smiles my way. I clench my jaw and watch him leave. Tully and her mother begin to talk among themselves.
“I’m just going to the bathroom, babe,” I tell her.
“Okay.” Tully smiles and turns her attention back to her mother.
I walk out into the corridor and follow Peter down to the parking lot.
I’m furious.
For how he treated Tully.
For how he treated the girls who were murdered.
For his blatant lack of respect for women and their rights.
It’s about time someone taught him a lesson. That person will be me.
He walks down through the main doors and out into the parking lot. It’s dark and there aren’t many people are around. Peter weaves in and out the cars until he gets to his. He opens the door, and I walk up to him and get in his face.
“W-what are you doing?” he stutters.
“So, you think it’s fair game to force yourself on Tully, do you?” I growl.
His face falls. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t act dumb,” I snap before I punch him hard in the stomach. He doubles over in pain, coughing and winded by my hit. He stands slowly, and I hit him square in the jaw. He staggers back, his body slamming into the car. “That’s for Tully,” I snap. He falls forward and I hit him again. “And that’s for the way you treat women, you piece of fucking shit,” I growl.
“Stop it!” he wails. “Don’t hit me again. Please.” He holds his hands up over his face like a coward.
I roll my eyes and grab him by the throat. He coughs as I cut off his air supply. “You step one foot out of line again, and I will fucking break your neck, just like I promised.”
He whimpers. “I won’t, I promise.”
I throw him back and he hits his car with a thud, his body sliding down it onto the ground. I glare at him, watching as he cowers in fear, and then I walk back inside the hospital before I really hurt him. I would love to, believe me.
Yellow-bellied fucking sleazebag.
Twelve months later
I lie on the deckchair between the ocean and the pool and feel the sun’s warmth on my skin. Brock and I are at our favourite destination. The place we fell in love. The Halekulani in Waikiki. I bought this trip for him as a surprise for his birthday a few months ago.
It’s been a hard twelve months.
Brock has had major trust issues with me, and has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. It took him five months for him to be able to tell me that he loved me again after I broke his heart when I left him.
Stubborn man.
I moved in after a month at my insistence. Even though I knew he loved me, he just couldn’t say it out loud for some reason.
I hurt him a lot more than I realised.
Brock is lying on his back on his deckchair. His eyes are closed, and he’s wearing a black pair of board shorts.
I smile as I watch him. He’s tanned now, his big body rippled with those muscles I love so much. How I ever got a man this delicious, I’ll never know.
“I was thinking, Pock,” he mutters with his eyes closed.
I smirk. “Did it hurt?”
He smiles up at the sun. “A bit.”
I reach out and take his hand in mine, but he pulls his away. “I’m not lying here holding hands like a schoolboy.” He frowns.
Such a Brock thing to say. “What were you thinking?” I sigh happily.
“I was thinking we should maybe get married.”
My eyes snap open. “What?” I lean up to rest on my elbow and face him. “What did you just say?”
He opens his eyes just a little bit, and he smirks over at me. “I was wondering if you wanted to be Queen Pussy Porridge instead of just a Princess.”
My mouth falls open in shock. “Brock Marx! Are you… proposing?”
He gives me a breathtaking smile, full of hope and love and so much promise. “I was simply offering you a promotion.”
I giggle. “You really need to work on your romantic material. That proposal was appalling.”
He smiles and reaches over to take my hand in his. He kisses the back of it.
“But then you wouldn’t like me,” he says quietly.
I’ll never admit it out loud, but Brock being Brock is the most romantic thing in the world to me. I love that he doesn’t try to be something he’s not.
I move to lie down on the deckchair beside him. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my forehead.
“So, what do you say?” He smiles down at me.
I kiss his lips and smile goofily. “Position accepted, what’s the rate of pay?”
Five years later
I sit on the park bench and watch Brock push Kaia on the swing.
She’s two and the apple of his eye. He dotes on her.
We’re married and I’m four months pregnant and I never knew a deep sated happiness like this existed.
Our house is fully renovated and we just bought a farm a couple of hours out of Sydney to go to on the weekends. Simon is in remission and married to Penny and they have a son named Cooper.
I smile as I watch Kaia squeal with glee as Brock pushes her higher and higher into the air.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if her pushed her off and she went flying in the mud headfirst?” Meredith says from her seat beside me.
I giggle. “No Meredith, it would not.”