Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives) (4 page)

“You
said it: I’m not sane.” Ash jumped out of the car and headed for their home.

Dante
locked up and followed Ash up the front steps, wishing he could rewind today
and start over again, because this wasn’t what he wanted. He’d thought he had,
but now, the reality was setting in: He was going to be jobless soon, with
debts coming out of his arse. He glanced back at his car, wondering how the
hell he was going to pay it off, and not only that, but he couldn’t even put a
dent in his credit card bills, let alone pay for food, booze or ANYTHING! He
was so fucked it wasn’t funny.

He
kicked off his boots, not caring as they hit the wall, smearing the paintwork
with mud, because he wasn’t getting a cent from the sale of the house anyway,
Craven bleeding him dry.

Ash
said something, probably telling him off. Ignoring his brother, Dante stepped
inside, then froze, his eyes locked on the couch. Seated next to Ash’s
girlfriend,
Kara
stared back at him, her blonde wavy hair framing a
black-eye, bruised skin and a split lip. Dante barely noticed as Ash took off
down the passage with his girlfriend racing after him, Tiana asking Ash what
had happened to his forehead.

“
Kako
si
, Dante?” Kara said, placing an icepack on the coffee table.

“You’re
asking me how
I
am, lookin’ like that?” He gestured to her face. “What
the hell happened to you?”

Her
tongue flicked out to dab her split lip. “My husband beat me up,” she replied,
her Croatian accent thicker than normal, telling Dante she was nervous.

Dante’s
jaw hardened. “Gimme your address,” he said, walking towards her, “I’m gonna
kill the bastard.”

She
shook her head, then winced at what she’d done. “No, you can’t.”

“Why
the fuck not? He needs to pay for what he did to you.”

“What’s
done is done, and I don’t want you getting into trouble on my behalf, I’ve
caused you enough grief.” She removed the pink cardigan from around her
shoulders, one that belonged to Ash’s girlfriend, revealing a tight
leopard-print dress with a long zip down the front. A pale bruise coloured her
chest, suggesting that Kara’s husband had hurt her before today.

Dante
sat down on the coffee table in front of her. “This isn’t the first time he’s
hurt you, is it?”

“No,
he beat me a few days ago.” She dropped her gaze for a second, then looked back
up, her pale blue eyes almost colourless in the light. He looked into them,
mesmerised. Ash had said that eyes were windows to a person’s soul, but hers
were the windows to his.

She
smiled at him, although it came out as a wince, then she lowered her gaze
again, but this time focusing on his mouth. Her pupils dilated, her lust
unmistakable.

Taken
aback, Dante stood up quickly, not expecting her reaction—nor his. She was
battered and bruised, yet he was getting turned-on, but not from her damaged
state, because for those few seconds her bruises had faded and all he saw was
the woman he’d fallen in love with—was still in love with, that revelation
hitting him hard. He’d thought he was over her, especially with Beth now in his
life, someone who he also loved, but one look at Kara and his heart broke all
over again.

“You
should go to the police,” he finally said, feeling awkward standing in front of
her, fidgeting like an addict.

She
shook her head. “No, my husband is too good a lawyer; he’ll make me out as the
villain.”

“Unless
he’s covered in bruises, I don’t think so.”

“It
doesn’t matter, plus I brought this upon myself.”

Anger
seared through him. “Like hell you did! No man should raise a hand to a woman.”

“I
hit him too.”

“I
don’t care, and he pro’bly deserved it.”

Her
lip pulled up. “My knight in shining leather.”

He
shoved his hands into his pockets, not knowing what to say to that.

She
patted the cushion next to her. “Sit with me.”

Dante
remained where he was. “Why did he hit you?” he asked, saying the first thing
that came to mind, because there was no way he was getting close to her again.

“Because
I told him I should’ve married you.”

Dante’s
mouth went dry. “
Š
to
?”
he croaked out, the Croatian word for
what
slipping through.

“You
heard me,” she said, her gaze unflinching.

Dante
opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d dreamt of this moment for so long,
played it over and over again in his mind’s eye, where Kara would return to
him, saying she’d made a mistake, but it had just been a fantasy, because he
never thought it would actually happen, especially after the cruel names she’d
called him before walking out.

Kara
brushed her soft curls aside. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

He
frowned. “What do ya expect me to say? I haven’t seen you in three years, yet
you walk in here telling me we should’ve gotten married, like that last day
between us never happened?”

“That
was one day out of a year and a half of us being together, and one day I wish I
could take back.”

“Why?
Unless you missed your favourite whipping boy.”

“I
understand you’re upset, and I’m sorry for that, but if you would allow me, I
would very much like to make things up to you.”

He
sniffed. “You have a nerve saying that.”

“Why?”

“Cos
you can’t take back what you said, what you did. You called me a whore and
walked out on me like I wuzn’t worth your time, like our relationship meant
nuthin’.”

“I
called you a
prostitutka—
”

“It’s
the same thing!”

“You
didn’t let me finish. I meant to say, I called you a
prostitutka
out of
anger, not because you were one, but because I was in pain. I knew my time with
you was coming to an end, so I lashed out at the one person who didn’t deserve
it.”

“What
are you on about?” Dante said, totally confused, her words not making sense.

“You’re
a beautiful and sensuous man, Dante; you weren’t made for one woman, but many,
even though I wish you were mine alone, because you’re everything I want in a
man.”

“You’re
sounding like you think I cheated. I told ja then and I’m telling ya now, I never
did. All I wanted wuz you.”

She
smiled. “You mean that?”

“I
wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

She
dropped her gaze for a moment, then looked back up at him, her soulful eyes
reaching inside of him and twisting his gut. “Please forgive me,” she said.

He
shifted about, both wanting and not wanting to, then finally breathed out,
realising that this wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t be arguing with her when
she had been viciously beaten. “No, I’m the one who should apologise, you’re
all bashed up and I’m yelling at you, it ain’t right.”

“No,
you have a right to be mad at me. And don’t worry about how I look, because
the bruises will fade...” She pointed at his chest, “...but I can see that the
scars I put on your heart haven’t. I did you wrong, and I am truly sorry for
that, and if I can, I want to help heal those scars, because I love you, Dante,
always have.”

“Jesus,”
Dante said, running a hand over his face, the woman absolutely flooring him.

“Still
taking the Lord’s name in vain?” she said with a sad smile.

“What
do ya expect me to say?”

“I
know it’s too much to ask, but I prayed all the way here that you would say you
loved me too.”

“I
can’t.”

“Because
you don’t?”

He
turned his back on her, not willing to admit anything. She stood up, moving
around to his front. Although the woman was a head shorter than him, she made
him feel so small.

“I
know I am a selfish woman,” she said, “but to be selfish, a person must want
something—or someone so bad that they are willing to fight and scream, and to
walk over others to get it, even if they don’t deserve that precious prize. And
I’m willing to do that for you, Dante.”

“I’m
not a prize.”

“I
didn’t mean it like that, all I meant to say is that you’re precious to me, and
I know I shouldn’t be asking this, but please allow me to be with you again,
for us to have what I stupidly lost.”

“You
can’t be serious?”

“I
am
very
serious, and this time I won’t walk away from you, because I
want to live with you forever.”

“Well,
you can’t,” he said, not believing her nerve—or the strange words leaving her
mouth.

“Please,
Dante, don’t make me leave.”

“No,
you’re the one who left—”

“—and
now I’ve returned.”

“There’s
no room for you here.”

“Not
even in your bed?” she said, running her fingers down his chest.

Shaking
his head, he took a step back. This wasn’t happening, this was all a dream. He
ran a hand roughly over his face, but she was still standing there, her soulful
eyes filled with longing.
Longing?
Jesus, he was turning into a sap, and
a delusional one at that, because she didn’t really want him, other than to use
him for a place to stay.

“Find
someone else to leech off,” he said.

“I
have nowhere else to go.”

He
sneered, her words confirming his thoughts. “You can’t stay here. I have a
woman now, and she’s the jealous type.”

Kara
stared at him, then her face cracked, her pale eyes glossing over with unshed
tears. “
Oprosti mi
,” she apologised, “Of course you’ve moved on.”

Dante’s
sneer dropped, guilt replacing it. “Don’t cry.”

“No!
I deserve all of this.” She snatched her bag off the coffee table and rushed
for the door.

Dante
grabbed her arm. “Where will you go?”

She
wrenched it free. “Home; where I belong.”

“You
can’t go back there.”

“What
choice do I have? I have nowhere else to go!” she yelled, her face so
vulnerable, making him want to wrap his arms around her and say everything was
going to be alright, but it wasn’t, because he was with Beth now, and even if
he wasn’t, he couldn’t return to the way things were between him and Kara,
because she was too dominant, too demanding, and their time apart had made him
realise that. He didn’t like being dominated, hated being made to feel small,
to be her whipping boy again. He wasn’t like that before he’d met her, nor now,
but he would fall into that trap again if he took her back—which he knew
without a doubt.

She
went to leave again, but he pulled her into his arms, silently cursing himself
for doing it. “You can stay in my room,” he said, sure that she could feel his
heart hammering against her cheek. “I’ll take the couch. And I’ll make sure my
woman understands. She’s coming over tomorrow. I can stay with her for a few
days, give you some time to find someplace else.”

She
looked up at him. “But I don’t want to run you out of your own home.”

“It
doesn’t matter; it’s being sold anyway, so it won’t be my home for much
longer.”

“Where
are you moving to?” she asked, her hands lowering to his arse.

“Howick,”
he said, letting go of her, knowing this was all wrong, that he couldn’t even
hug her without it turning sexual.

“But
you’re a South Aucklander through and through, so why would you move out east?”
she asked, looking like she hadn’t just felt him up. Maybe she hadn’t done it
on purpose, because she
was
short, but even the most innocent of things
between them always turned sexual: A hug was never just a hug, while a smile
always had underlying currents flowing beneath it, which all led to the
bedroom.

“Dante?”
she said. “Are you going to answer me?”

“Sorry,”
he replied, trying to remember what she’d asked—and failing. “What didja say?”

“Why
are you moving out east?”

“Cos
Ash thinks it’ll be safer for his family, plus he wants to cut ties with
Craven, so we hafta sell the house.”

She
frowned. “Why would you do that for? From memory, Craven pays well.”

Dante
exhaled, his fears returning. Again, he wondered how he could stay working for
Craven without upsetting Ash. “I don’t wanna quit,” he finally said, “but I
hafta support Ash.”

“But,
you love your job.”

“I
don’t love it, and if I did, my bro means more to me.”
Yes, Ash did,
which
meant he should quit feeling sorry for himself and start looking for labouring
jobs, because he couldn’t work in retail with his facial tattoo, plus he kind
of had a police record. Shit, who would employ him with that?

“But
you’ll have nothing left if you hand everything over to Craven,” she said. “How
will you support yourself without a job or a home?”