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“Why won’t you answer your phone?” Tarant glanced up from his monitor as Lexi dumped her car keys on her desk.
“Doctor’s,” she croaked. Brown paper rustled as she set the prescription painkillers beside them.
“Lurgy?” Tarant wrinkled his nose. “Don’t infect me with your germs. I have Delray at the weekend.”
Lexi clamped her jaw. Pain flared through her teeth and into her temples. Anger threatened to turn the headache into a throbbing migraine. “Your brother-in-law,” she snarled. She opened her collar to reveal her injuries. “In a bathroom at Garima’s church.”
Tarant’s keyboard clattered as he rose. The colour drained from his face like water down a plughole. “What?” he mouthed.
“Don’t pretend you’re surprised!” Lexi’s sneer pulled her lips away from her teeth. She lifted a finger and stabbed the air between them. “You’ve already seen what he can do, haven’t you?”
Tarant bowed his head and sank back into his chair. It rolled across the floor before he planted his feet. He covered his eyes with his palms and swore.
Rage blossomed as a knot in Lexi’s throat, exacerbating her pain. Tears sprang into her eyes again, a ready well of lost hope and innocence. She no longer possessed the energy to shout at him. Powerlessness swirled around her. She couldn’t defeat Rojas. He’d ingrained himself into a system which gave him ultimate authority. The only recourse left to her was self-protection. Even that no longer appeared viable.
She snatched up her wireless keyboard and hurled it at Tarant’s bowed head. It landed short, hitting the corner of his desk. The buttons detached, falling like dice onto the floor. The base unit landed on top of them. Tarant rose, alarm in his brown eyes. The destruction held less satisfaction than Lexi imagined. She craved a bigger statement, a louder crash, something with the power to purge the fury in her soul.
She lifted her monitor. Wires trailed behind it. The plugs snagged in their sockets, creating a ridiculous tug-of-war. Lexi closed her eyes and pulled. She pictured the breaking glass, the spilled innards, and the mess. In that moment of insanity, she understood Delray’s frenzy with the printer paper. Tarant had picked up every sheet. He could clear up her mess, too. He owed her.
She turned with the heavy monitor held aloft. Plugs pinged free and the extension block fell to the floor with a crash. She ached to satiate her urge to tear down the sky with her bare hands and roll in the aftermath.
Hard chest muscles took the impact as Lexi thrust the monitor forward. Her night stick dug into her thigh to remind her of another failure. She’d missed a golden opportunity. To withdraw it and beat the smug Harvey Rojas to death while he laid crippled on the cold tiles. Lexi snarled and thrust again. Tarant wrenched it from her outstretched arms and set it on the desk. It tilted backwards, sending Lexi’s in-tray and medications tumbling to the floor.
She spat and snarled, but he wrapped his arms around her. His bear hug pinned her fists to her sides. She lifted her knee, but he turned to deflect it. His thigh absorbed the blow. He said nothing.
Lexi’s world returned to its axis. Her blurred vision cleared. Tarant relaxed his bodyguard’s hold, but he didn’t release her. His warm torso enfolded her. The throb of his heartbeat rumbled against her sternum, raised but regular. Lexi dropped her chin and turned her head to nestle against his shoulder. Her jaw ached with the pressure and she leaned into the pain, accepting its grounding in reality.
Tarant’s arms moved higher, no longer restraining but offering comfort. She accepted the change in status, even when he rested his cheek on the top of her head. They stood there in the awkward embrace until Lexi’s joints complained at the inactivity.
“Lexi?” Tarant’s breath warmed her ear as she struggled free. His wide palms cupped her cheeks as he halted her resistance. “Listen to me,” he whispered. “Please, hear me?” She stilled, curious about the seriousness in his glittering brown irises. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. Coffee and peppermint washed over her. “Forgive me?”
Lexi’s chest locked. Nice, genteel replies flooded into her mouth. But she didn’t release them. Tarant Leon needed much forgiveness. She wanted his offences individually catalogued and picked through, not dismissed by a blanket-apology.
His features twisted and crumpled as he awaited her absolution for his many sins against her. Tears sparkled in his eyes. He’d never looked so defeated, so lost. Lachlan Mortimer would have smudged him from existence as though swatting a fly. Garima would forgive with his easy openness and lack of guile. Lexi found herself trapped between their extreme examples. Trapped. And clueless.
She bent her knees and dropped like a stone. Her bottom landed in her office chair with a thud. The night stick bit into her skin, useless unless she drew it. Tarant crouched before her, resting his forearms across her knees. He took a massive risk. Her body still throbbed with thwarted rage. He resembled a Jackaroo, crouching at a lake where crocodiles lurked. He knew the danger, but took the risk. “Trust me,” he whispered.
Lexi’s laugh cut through the silence. Her chest unlocked. She exhaled and gazed down at him, her eyes gimlet hard. “No,” she replied. “You lost that right two years, eight months, and twenty-one days ago.” She shoved his arms off her knees as though brushing away mud. He teetered on his splayed feet before clasping hold of her desk to right himself.
Lexi spun her chair to survey the damage. Energy seeped from her like a leaky battery. She rose, noticing Tarant wince as she stepped around him. Bending hurt her jaw, but she retrieved her brown bag stuffed with painkillers.
They surveyed each other, their relationship all but destroyed. Lexi’s gaze swept Tarant from head to toe, wondering how she’d ever loved him. Weak men were a plague on the earth. She dropped her chin and narrowed her eyes. “My keyboard broke,” she growled. “I’m working from home today.”
The paper bag crinkled in her fingers as she snatched up her car key. Her hands shook and light-headedness dogged her steps. Tarant said nothing as she left the office. She struggled to her SUV and fumbled with the remote. The night stick dug into her thigh again as she slumped into the driver’s seat. Lexi tipped onto her right side and retrieved it from the hidden pocket. The first of the concertinaed stems had extended along her leg, hence its uncustomary ill fit. Lexi stared at it before hurling it onto the passenger seat.
The motorcyclist with the expensive black bike joined her at the traffic lights on the Fairfield bridge. Lexi no longer cared. He trailed her home, stopping across the street as she waited for her gate to slide across the aperture. His tinted visor seemed to leech the sunshine into its matte finish.
Lexi locked up and stumbled into the house. Nahla met her with a mew of appreciation for her early return. Her enthusiastic circling caused confusion in Lexi’s vision, and she dropped to her knees and crawled to her bedroom. The cat followed, excited by the new game.
Lexi clambered onto her bed, still wearing her boots. Pain bloomed across her brow. A knitting needle dive-bombed random spots across her skull. Her phone vibrated, and she tugged it from her pocket. A swipe of her thumb killed the call. The doctor’s business card fluttered to the bedspread, and Lexi remembered his kindness.
Despite the blurring of her vision, she added his number to her contacts and sent him a text.
‘Thank you for your kindness. Jane Doe.’
