Colour Series Box Set (110 page)

THE DRIVE BACK
to the office was both satisfying and painful. He put his hand on my thigh and left it there, like he was my lover. He was being possessive of something that doesn’t belong to him. The conversation was not much better.

“He shoved those things inside you, is that even allowed?” I could hear the jealousy in his voice as his foot tapped on the floor mat. “I mean, surely he can’t just touch you there.”

“What did you imagine a gynecologist did, Harmon?” I’m truly shocked at his ignorance for a man who googled insemination and was ready to have his doctors knock me up.

“I don’t know, but that just seemed so . . . umm . . . intimate. I mean he grabbed your boobs.” I want to laugh but I am concerned at this jealousy, instead I pull over into a service station so Harmon and I can chat for a minute. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping so we can have a little talk, because you’re losing your shit.” I snap at him as I forcibly remove his hand from my leg. “Firstly Harmon, he is my doctor. It is not the first or the last time he will shove his equipment in me, that’s his job. Second you wanted to go with me, because you don’t trust me, because you have deluded yourself making this more than what it is. I’m not yours, Harmon, I don’t belong to you. I have fucked other men and I will continue to do so when this is over. You are just lucky that I haven’t killed you yet. Get this picture of you and me out of your head. This isn’t my fault. You heard the doctor, there is
nothing
wrong with me. You are probably shooting blanks.”

“I am NOT firing blanks, you bitch.” He loses his short temper with me grabbing my jaw in his hand forcing me to look into those empty eyes. Only now can I see the insanity in him, the madness that lived in his brother is right there below the surface and he’s losing control of it. “I can’t do this your way Avery, I can’t have him or anyone touching you, fuck. How do I know you aren’t fucking him?” There it is the insecurity that rules his weak mind. “When he touches my boobs, it’s to check for cancer, you know that disease that killed your brother, but you didn’t give a shit about Callum. You didn’t watch him die slowly.” I sigh loudly. “I’m not fucking him, he’s my doctor. You don’t have a choice about how we do this, because I am the one with the womb you idiot.” I pull my head back escaping his grip. “Harmon you need to get a grip, because I have money and I can live quite happily without this company. I’m doing this for you, not me.” His jaw ticks, and his pupils dilate with rage as he grabs me leaning closer again. Fear pricks at my mind, he’s becoming a danger to me. His lips touch mine, I turn to ice. His tongue swipes at mine and my mouth feels like I swallowed ash. He tries to pull me closer still and I go stiff in defense.

“I want you so much it’s all I think about, Avery. Don’t you understand the life we could have,” he says with his head rested against mine.
Fight.

“
I have a life Harmon, you need to get your own. This fantasy will never come to life.” I shove him back to his seat and start the car again. When we get to the office I leave the car on for him to get out, I need to go and see the manager at the croc farm to sign the new license to trade in skins.

“Are you not coming up?” Harmon looks at me as he clicks his seatbelt open.

“No, I have things to do.” He gets instantly angry,

“But you are ovulating, I’ll just come with you.”

“I’ll still be ovulating later, I promise.” I’m in no mood for this.

“Then we can do it again then.” He snaps and puts the belt back on, I have upset his little world.

“You know that this company you are so desperate to have doesn’t run itself, you actually have to work.” I bite at him as I speed out of the parking again. I don’t need this now. He is being petulant.

“You never work,” he whines like a child that was told to pack up his toys.

“I’m always working, Harmon. Always.” It’s the truth, I don’t get to be off from work because this work is my life—for now. This field trip might be the reality check he needs. The drive from the city to the Francshoek Valley is about an hour if no one has caused a traffic jam. That hour of silence with him huffing and puffing next to me felt like a year, I eventually turned the music loud enough to drown him out and let my mind drift to another time.

The first time I came to the croc farm, I was in awe of the beasts that could crunch bones and so easily dismember a body, my father brought me to show me our newly acquired assets. It was muggy and hot, crocs don’t smell nice, the green water in their dams combined with their shit was vile and it hung in the air. We’d killed a man the night before, one of the many times I worked with my dad as a team learning to hone my skills. The body was in the back of the car, this was the first time we were going to see if this was an effective means of disposal. I watched them all laying in the sun on the grass embankment, warming their cold-blooded bodies. I thought they looked so menacing even with their eyes closed asleep you could tell they were the villains. Two men helped us drop the body into the rank green water, no sooner had the splash been hard there was a frenzy, chaotic movement as they all swarmed it. Within minutes it was ripped apart and consumed, all of it even his head was gone. What a brilliant thing nature is.

“Where are we going?” Harmon asks me disrupting the memory, one where I had actually enjoyed the day with my father.

“To one of my properties. I told you I had shit to do.” I grind the words out between my gritted teeth. I hate Callum for this right now, I feel like everything he and I shared was based on this monumental lie. The thought of him makes me feel used and violated. Not even being raped felt like this, the betrayal of the man I spent my life idolising has almost destroyed me and even now I’m living with the ghosts of his madness. It’s no wonder his wife killed him, had I known the truth I would have killed him instead of offering a part of me to save his life. Just thinking of him makes my anger burn with a new heat and his little brother beside me is feeding the monstrous rage in me allowing it to consume me.

I park in the dusty parking area outside the staff entrance to the farm, as I open the doors the smell I am now used to fills my nostrils and I hear a gag from Harmon. It is not pleasant here, this place is a barbaric reminder of the cruelty of life.

“What is this place?” he asks covering his mouth and nose.

“Crocodile farm, I don’t just farm wine my interests are diverse.” I glare at him and smile, the smell no longer an issue for me.

“What on earth do we have farm crocs for?”
We
the word out of his mouth makes me want to spit.

“Not
we.
This is
my
farm Harmon, it has nothing to do with you or O’Reilly International. My father bought it for me to help get rid of my toys.” I make the purpose of this place very clear, “Our business tends to produce a vast number of dead bodies, they’re not easy to get rid of. This place is one of the ways we make them disappear.” I talk as we walk towards the big wooden gate that will take us into the back of the farm, the commercial part. The other side of the property is disguised as a tourist attraction. He has no words, he just follows me inside where Edgar greets me with a big smile. He runs the farm and has a creepy infatuation with the animals.

“Avery, so glad you are here.” He reaches out a hand for me to shake and his yellowing teeth are bared to me in a smile.

“Edgar, this is Harmon O’Reilly. I came to sign the new license application quickly.”

“Hi.” He gives Harm the once over and clearly doesn’t like him. “Sure. Let’s pop into my office and sign it. I need to supervise feeding at the number four pen in twenty minutes if you two want to watch?” I step into the small office, the old furniture is permanently imbedded with the stench of crocodile.

“I would love to.” I know what that means and seeing the stuck up office boy witness feeding will be so much fun. I see Harmon about to open his mouth and speak but he obviously decides to shut it. I sign the documents that are put in front of me and he finally chimes in.

“Are you even going to read those, you just sign things blindly, Avery. That could be anything.” He snatches the papers and starts to read them, I know what they say because I have signed them since I was eighteen and this place became legally mine. I don’t need to read them. Looking sheepish he hands them back to me without a word after he has read them through.

“It’s a licence to trade in skins, Harmon, not an agreement for organ trade or sex slaves.” My claws are out today.

“Okay, let’s go feed the babies,” Edgar says grabbing his big chain of keys. It jingles like a jailer as he walks out ahead of us. The long maze of wooden bridges are erected over the pens below give us a view of the nearly six thousand crocs we have here at any given time. Crocs need copious amounts of food and we get ours from local farmers, chickens, cows and sheep—who cares—as long as its dead they’ll eat it. Today, there’s a huge plastic bin filled with chickens that have passed the sell by date and then some, they’re ripe and I can smell them a good way off. Two farm hands are waiting for us at the small gate that opens into the pen, a big number four is painted on the gate, these crocs are four years old and almost ready to be slaughtered. Different ages for different purposes, handbag crocs die younger than paté crocs. The younger they are, the softer their skins. We make a fair profit off the meat as well, after tasting it I can’t understand how though.

“Okeeeey jullie twee gaan in en passop.” Edgar sends the two men in and warns them to be careful, one has a large stick in his hand and the other lifts the large bin and carries it behind him. Edgar is holding a hunting rifle in his hand just incase they get out of hand. They empty the drum, some in the water, some on the grass and then make a quick exit as the animals turn from lazy sun basking beasts to barbaric savages tearing into the meat.

“I wonder how many of my lovers those crocs have had the pleasure of eating?” I say loud enough for Harmon to hear me. Looking him the eyes, I don’t need to say more my intentions are clear, this is where he will find his end. I only hope it is soon, because I can’t be nice much longer its killing me.

“Thank you, Edgar, I will see you soon.” I put my hand on his shoulder and say goodbye, I like the old man he doesn’t judge and I can trust him to do his job quietly.

I’m tired of playing by the rules of someone else’s game, I need to find a better way to end this shit.

“What now? We have business to attend to, Avery.” Harmon pulls me into his chest as we get to the car and I have to swallow my own vomit. Best get it over with.

“You can come with me to the estate, but you are leaving when we are done, Harmon.” I spit and shove him away from me, the crocodile smell is less offensive than his aftershave.

“How am I supposed to leave, we’re in your car?” The whining again.

“I have another car at the estate and a driver who can chauffeur your ass home, Harmon. You. Are. Not. Staying.” I slam my door waiting for him to get into the passenger side.

There is no fear for one whose mind is not filled with desires.

WHEN MY SISTER DIED,
I missed her like only a twin could miss their other half. I cried, I got angry, I yelled and then I made myself a promise. I would do my best to stop the suffering of others, those I could not save, I would help them end their suffering. Yet, here I sit and nothing can soothe the pain in me, I cannot put to rest the ache in my heart. I may have saved her but I sacrificed myself in the process, I was going to stay. I wanted to try and make her world perfect as it always should have been. Waking up with her next to me, going to bed knowing she’s mine. Harmon had other ideas, his little tip off to the police has turned my life into a series of disasters that have taken far too long to fix. The Italian made it go away, but I have to stay away until he has what he wants from Avery. I’m not privy to what that is. He did swear a lot and call Harmon some less than favourable names in Italian, it would seem that he likes him even less than I do. By the time he was done ranting about him, the man’s face was red and he had beads of sweat on his forehead. You see, cancer has no loyalty. It takes anyone it wants without consideration and the balding man with a blood thirst for revenge has a son who he would give anything to save—even give up his revenge. When he muttered about Rowan killing his brother I automatically corrected him, it was not something I thought about directly, it came out my mouth. “But Callum killed Renzo.” His eyes went wide and grabbed my shirt pulling me right up to his face.

“What did you say?” He fumed at me.

“I said, Callum killed your brother, Lauri begged Rowan in her final letter to him not to kill him, she wanted hers to be the last death in that feud.” He looks at me like I am talking alien. “Who told you it was Rowan?” I’m now intrigued and as confused as he is. I’m an outsider and I know that, Callum and Avery both told me the story of how he came home.

“Harmon.” I should have known that would be his answer.