Between Before and After Page 19

  “I was too late.” Tears rolled down Max’s cheeks.

  “You would never have…” Gavin cleared his throat and tried again. “They said he died instantly. You couldn’t have done anything.” Impulsively, he reached over and grabbed Max’s forearm. “You understand that, right?”

  Max shrugged Gavin off. He wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt and cleared his throat.

  “I need to get out of here. I can’t do this.” He got to his feet and stumbled over Kate as he made his way to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Kate stared up at him, bewildered.

  He stopped short, as if he had forgotten what he was doing. Finn’s heart ached for him. It wasn’t fair. Max shouldn’t have to carry this around with him. It had been three years – that was long enough for anyone to endure. He deserved to have his life back.

  Kate got to her feet unsteadily, wiping her eyes as she made her way over to him. She placed a trembling hand on his shoulder but he refused to turn around.

  “I’m sorry,” he heard her whisper. “I’m sorry you had to find him and I’m sorry it hurts so much.”

  Finn’s heart began to race. His whole body was sore, he was so tired. Listening to Max talk about that day was almost more than he could handle. He felt like everything was slipping away from him, like a handful of sand through his fingers. The tighter he held on, the faster it all disappeared. He couldn’t stop it. Like a familiar friend, anger rose up out of the depths of his soul. Only this time, it was accompanied by its twin – guilt. The voices in his head and in his heart came alive.

  “This whole fucking mess is Danny’s, not yours. Stop punishing yourself – it wasn’t your fault.”

  Everyone turned to stare at him.

  “I’m so sick of it!” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “This bullshit – the nightmares, the drinking, the fucking guilt. He’s the one who fucked up here Max, not you!”

  He wanted to stop talking but he couldn’t, not now that he had started, not after all this time. Not after almost three years of burying all these feelings so deep down – carefully hidden so that he wouldn’t have to deal with them, ever. Except that they had burrowed their way out like worms, eating away at his insides, forcing their way to the top. They were at the surface now and they had to be dealt with, whether he was ready or not.

  He whirled around and grabbed the thing nearest him – a wooden floor lamp. Ripping the plug out of the wall, he marched through the house and out of the back door. He raced through the carport, ignoring the voices that chased him.

  Rounding the corner of the house, he spied the Monaro glinting in the moonlight. He broke into a sprint, turning the lamp upside down and raising it over his shoulder. Coming up alongside the car, he let loose, smashing the side window into a million satisfying pieces.

  “Finn!”

  Ignoring Gavin, he aimed a punishing blow at the window right next to it, watching as it too shattered, another piece of his heart shattering with it. He hit out at the car again as sweat poured off his brow, mingling with the frustrated tears streaming down his face. His head whirled with insult after insult, all aimed at Danny. He felt sick to his stomach, the anger, fear and frustration of the last three years pouring out of him.

  Swinging the lamp, all he wanted was to hurt Danny. He needed to punish him for what he had done, to all of them. As much as he wanted the pain to stop, the frustration that burned inside of him refused to abate, no matter how hard he hit or what he smashed. Angry tears blinded him. He couldn’t even see what he was hitting anymore.

  As he raised the lamp yet again, he was tackled from behind. He hit the ground hard and had the wind knocked out of him temporarily.

  “Enough!” Gavin cried desperately, sitting on top of him. “No more!”

  Recovering his presence of mind, he frantically struggled to free himself but found that Gavin had him pinned down, angering him even more.

  “Get the fuck off me!” he growled, in a voice that he didn’t even recognise as his own.

  He tried to wriggle out of his grip, but Gavin bounced his head off the hard ground. “That’s enough!”

  Pain shot down his head and neck and he choked down a moan, finally giving up the fight. His body went limp, the effort to breathe engulfing all his remaining energy. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force down the sob that welled up inside him.

  Gavin climbed off him and breathing suddenly became easier. A moment later, he was hauled upright. Exhausted, he hunched forward, his head bowed low. Helplessly, he could feel the anguish building up inside of him, searching desperately for release. He struggled to keep it down, but it burst out anyway.

  “I should’ve known,” His heart sank as the truth came tumbling out. “I could’ve stopped all this – I could’ve stopped him.”

  No one made a sound. Finn’s heart beat double-time in his chest and he thought he was going to be sick. Suddenly, Kate was kneeling in front of him, her eyes full of forgiveness and acceptance. If only she knew.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” she said gently.

  “Finn, don’t waste –“

  “You weren’t there!” he said, glaring up at Gavin. “He nearly hit Kate, for Christ’s sake! It was tearing him apart, and I just left him there! What the hell was I thinking?”

  “You weren’t thinking he was going to kill himself – none of us were, we’ve been through this before, a hundred times!” Gavin shook his head. “You couldn’t have stopped him because he didn’t want to be stopped!”

  “I saw him!” he blurted out, the words accompanied by a rush of fear and adrenaline. “I saw him do it!”

  Silence surrounded them like a living entity, squeezing the air out of his lungs, drowning him in guilt and fear.

  “I saw him put the gun to his head, pull the trigger,” he breathed. “I saw him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “What do you mean?” Kate said, confusion written all over her face.

  “What are you talking about?” Gavin sat back on his heels, frowning at him. “What do you mean, you saw him?”

  The elation at finally having said it, after all this time, evaporated in a heartbeat.

  Fuck.

  He wished he could take it back but it was too late. He fought against the bile that was rapidly making its way up his oesophagus. It served as a reminder. He had vomited that day, too.

  “I was there. I saw him do it.”

  They stared at him in the mounting silence and he knew there was no turning back. The silent questions hurtled towards him through the air and he heard them as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud. Before he knew what he was doing, his own words tumbled out in a rush, tripping over one another in their haste.

  “I got halfway home before I realised that it wasn’t good enough. I needed to find out the truth. After the way he’d been acting, it had to be bad.”

  He glanced in the rear-view mirror and indicated to turn right, merging into the traffic. He wasn’t going to give up this easily. The haunted look on Danny’s face was burned into his brain. Whatever the problem was, it was obviously big enough to hurl him into the depths of despair or he would never have lashed out at Kate like that. What kind of friend was he if he just let him fob him off? He could help – he knew he could. He just needed to know what they were up against.

  The drive back to Danny’s place seemed to take forever as he tossed around ideas in his brain. It couldn’t be drugs or he’d have seen it. Was he gambling? Was it something to do with work? Was he having an affair? No, not that. He wouldn’t do that to Kate. Or would he? Jesus, he didn’t know anything anymore. The wall of frustration grew ever higher.

  “I didn’t want you going back there until I knew it was safe.” He locked eyes with Kate, who stared back at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. “I wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt you.”

  He shook his head slowly, the bitterness in the back of his throat taking him back to that d
ay, to that exact moment. “He wouldn’t answer the door this time, though. Jesus, if I’d had my fucking key with me, I might’ve…”

  Why wasn’t he answering the door? Panic overwhelmed him. He couldn’t explain it. The feeling wrapped itself around his throat, digging its claws into him until he could barely breathe. Something was very wrong, he could feel it. He walked back across the veranda and down the steps, making for the side of the house. Fighting his way through the overgrown bushes, he pushed his way through and into the garden beyond. Branches lashed at him but he brushed them off. He finally made his way through the jungle to the back door.

  “I went around to the back door. I knocked but he didn’t answer and it was locked. I thought maybe he’d gone back to bed.”

  He stood at the back door, unsure about what to do next. He had come this far. He wasn’t leaving until he saw him. Fighting his way through the undergrowth again, he grabbed hold of the windowsill outside the bedroom, jumping up to peer inside. The curtains were drawn, blocking his view. Damn it, where was he? In the state he was in when he left him, he couldn’t see him nipping up to the shops for a bottle of milk.

  “I couldn’t see in, so I went to the living room window instead.”

  He sucked in another shaky breath. He wouldn’t blame Max for hating him. He had steadfastly refused to tell anyone about this moment for three years. He had told himself that it wouldn’t do any good. All it would do was prove what a coward he was. As each year wore on and the misery seemed to settle in their bones, the guilt crept in.

  “He was kneeling on the floor with the gun to his head.”

  He whispered it, but in his own mind, his voice was a booming baritone. The words hung in the warm night air.

  “He saw me.”

  Tears spilled down Kate’s cheeks but she refused to blink. The world seemed to shrink until it was just him and Kate, in the moonlight.

  “And I saw him do it.”

  Their eyes locked and in that split second, the horror of what was about to happen flooded through him, as if his brain was trying to prepare him for the inevitability of it. What happened next was horrifically surreal. The gunshot was so loud he flinched, his senses assaulted by the suddenness of it. Danny’s head jerked sideways and he fell to the floor, a projectile of blood and gore fanning out behind him. It covered the wall, the furniture, everything. Finn lost the contents of his stomach within seconds, vomiting into the garden. The horror of it sucked his strength, leaving him on his hands and knees in the overgrown garden, gasping for breath. He couldn’t see or hear anything. He couldn’t feel. He couldn’t think.

  He drew his knees up in front of him, as if physically barricading himself against an imaginary onslaught. A hand rubbed his back. It was so comforting, he closed his eyes.

  “What happened next?”

  He opened his eyes. Gavin was kneeling on the grass in front of him. “I drove home.”

  Slowly, he came back to himself. The shock receded and he went from feeling nothing to feeling everything. His brain spun in circles, mirroring his stomach. Branches dug into his back and the rock he was half-sitting on felt like it had buried itself in his thigh. His breathing came in short, laboured bursts. What was he going to do? He had to get in there but, Jesus, he didn’t want to go inside, not to that. He squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to tell someone. Who should he tell? Neighbours? Police? Police. That’s it – he needed to call the police. They would know what to do. But what about Kate? She would freak out if he arrived back at his place with the police.

  “I knew I needed to call the cops, but I didn’t have my cellphone on me. I thought I’d drive home and tell Kate myself, and call them from there. I just wanted to get the hell away from that place.”

  He shuddered, the memory crawling like an icy spider down the back of his neck.

  “You drove home after that?” Lacey asked tearfully.

  “I had to. I needed to tell Kate,” he insisted. “But by the time I got there, Max had already phoned her. Then it was all on. I was too late.”

  “He must have gotten there right after you left,” Gavin said to Max, over Finn’s shoulder. Finn was too scared to turn around. “Why didn’t you tell us this then? Why’d you wait so bloody long?”

  “Because it’s my fault.”

  “What do you mean?” Lacey mumbled. “How could it be?”

  “Because I left him there like that, in the state he was in. Because if I’d had my key on me, I could’ve gone back and stopped him, I wouldn’t have wasted time trying the back door and looking in bloody windows.”

  The choking sob that rose up from deep inside threatened to drown him. He hung his head, trying desperately to get a handle on himself.

  “I’m so sorry, Max,” he croaked, unable to look at him. “You shouldn’t have had to find him like that. That wasn’t meant for you, it was supposed to be me. I should never have left him alone like that – I should’ve stayed! If I’d stayed…”

  “Don’t do that to yourself.” Lacey sat down beside him, draping her arm around his shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. You got there too late. That’s all there is to it. It wasn’t meant to be.”

  Finn shook his head helplessly, searching out Max. He stood off to side of them, watching. His expression was maddeningly blank. Finn struggled to read him. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

  “You should’ve told me.”

  Kate’s voice was so full of heartache, it made breathing almost impossible. His chest seized, as if his lungs had forgotten what to do. Slowly, he looked up at her. Her cheeks were wet with tears and she looked just as she did the day Danny died.

  Abandoned.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were so… I didn’t think it would’ve made any difference.”

  She shook her head, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps as she struggled to speak. “That wasn’t your decision to make.”

  Suddenly, she turned and walked back towards the house.

  “Kate!” Lacey called after her but she didn’t stop.

  “I’ll go,” Max said, turning his back on Finn.

  He watched Max follow her through the carport and into the house. It was like losing Danny all over again. The cavity in his soul seemed larger and blacker than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Kate ran the last few steps into the house. What was happening? Where had all this come from? She was not prepared for this. Just when she thought she was moving on finally, everything was getting dragged back up again, only this time with a new and disturbing twist.

  “Katie, wait.”

  She ignored Max and went straight to her bedroom, pushing the door closed behind her. Falling into a ragged heap on the floor by the window in the corner, her body gave in, diverting all the energy to her brain as she tried to decide what to do next. The door opened and Max stood there, the light from the hallway silhouetting him. He shoved his hands in his pockets but she couldn’t see his face.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She huffed out a laugh that bordered on the hysterical, as if the question was so ridiculous it didn’t deserve an answer. “Are you?”

  Ignoring her, he walked in, kicking the door closed softly with his foot. He sat down on the bed, falling backwards with a loud groan.

  “Un-fucking-believable,” he mumbled.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  “That, and I need a drink.”

  With the door closed and the curtains open, the only light in the room came from the moon. It cast a pale blue glow over everything and she watched the shadows on the wall opposite her.

  “When did everything get to be such a mess?” she said into the darkness. “I want to get off this merry-go-round. Everything’s fine, then it’s not, then it’s fine, then it’s not. I’m sick of it. I want some stability in my life again. This up and down is making me dizzy.”

  She could hear him breathing but he didn’t say anything. Her stomach
clenched as she heard voices in the hallway. She held her breath, waiting for the knock at the door but it didn’t come. Relieved, but also a tiny bit disappointed, she heard them go into the living room and then all was quiet again.

  “Why the hell didn’t he say anything before?” she sniffed, pulling her knees up and hugging them. “Why’d he keep it to himself all this time?”

  For several moments, he didn’t respond. Sitting there, in the dark, seemed like the best place to be in the world right at that moment. She rested her chin on her knees and sighed.

  “Judging by what he said out there, I’d say guilt,” he said finally.

  While she could see where he was coming from, she still couldn’t quite get herself to the position where she could understand completely. Lying way back there, behind the disappointment and the sympathy, was fear. He had kept this secret from her. She didn’t think he was capable of that. She could see a disturbing pattern forming.

  “First Danny, now Finn.”

  “What?”

  Max rolled over onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. She could see him frowning at her in the moonlight.

  “Secrets,” she clarified. “I’m sick to death of all the bloody secrets. No one seems to tell the truth anymore.”

  He stared at her in the darkness and she found the silence uncomfortable. She pulled her knees in closer and turned her attention towards the window.

  “I don’t think he did it on purpose.”

  The moonlight was shining off the water, giving it the impression of a lake. The mountains on the opposite shore loomed over it, the three-dimensional effect of the native bush that covered them completely flattened out by the darkness. Everything looked false, warped. Just like reality.

  “Nothing’s ever as it seems,” she said.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  She gazed out over the water, almost in a trance. “Danny hid so many things from me over those last couple of months. He changed right in front of my eyes and he shut me out. Then he was gone and I was just expected to pick up and carry on, like it was all some kind of master plan.” She shook her head miserably. “That is such bullshit. I don’t believe in fate or destiny or any of that. I think stuff happens and you do your best to deal with it. Nothing’s pre-ordained. You get given a shit-load of choices, and depending on which door you open, that’s your new life. You can change it any time. You can take another door. You can be honest or you can lie, but you’ve always got those choices.”