Page 3 of In Step

“No problem.”

A couple of locals passed with a smile and a hello to Hannah and Terry and the briefest of nods to me. Thirty years in the district and I still felt like a clown at a dinner party. Few saw past the fucked-up teenager, which made Terry’s friendship a gift I could never repay.

“Haven’t you got homework to do?” Terry handed Hannah her canes and she gave a huff of discontent before shuffling forward onto her feet and then disappearing inside the store. Terry took her place on the bench and tilted his head toward me. “So, what was it today?”

I grinned. “A Moro bar. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Nah.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Hannah was out of earshot. “She deserves a treat and a break from her strict diet every now and then. Plus, she loves thinking she’s got one over on me. It’s only you and Judah I let spoil her.”

A wash of nerves swept through me. “I hope I’m not muscling in on Judah’s thing with her?”

“Chill.” Terry patted my arm. “It’s fine. Isn’t that choreographer guy arriving today? Judah played the class some clips of the guy dancing, and in Hannah’s words, ‘He rocked.’” Terry made air quotes and I chuckled.

“Yeah, Judah and Morgan have gone to pick him up. I wouldn’t know anything about the dancing part, though. Not my thing.”

Terry shuddered theatrically. “I know exactly what you mean. I have zero rhythm, completely clueless. How arethings in the mussel business?”

I shrugged. “Good, I think. I gather Leroy buying the farm and wharf from his mum was a good decision. And Fox seems to be enjoying his new job as a fishing boat observer, although he’s still talking about farming seaweed, much to Leroy’s horror. He came out on the Green Lip with us today, and Patrick threatened to tie the two of them to the mussel farm backbone if they didn’t stop mauling each other. You’d think they’d been apart for six months, not three weeks.”

Terry laughed. “Yeah, I’m still trying to mentally file that one. Leroy with a guy? Fuck me. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I heard. Although, to be honest, Leroy withanyoneis a stretch. The guy’s crankier than a rattlesnake most of the time, although he’s certainly mellowed with Fox around. Goes to show you never can tell. Things are getting very cosy and domestic around this town all of a sudden. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?” He turned those shrewd blue eyes my way and I quickly looked away.

“Nah. Too busy keeping my head down and trying not to fuck up, surrounded by the Maddens, as I am. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know? Like one day they’ll wake up and come to their senses and realise that taking me on was a truly bad idea. And who would blame them? Here I am ensconced in Leroy’s bedsit above his garage, not to mention working for the guy on his mussel farm, and all after I’d been a total arsehole to his brother in high school. I’m lucky to still have all my teeth let alone a job. I feel like a cuckoo in the nest, and they just haven’t cottoned on yet.”

Terry watched me for a minute. “I don’t agree. I think this might be the very best thing that could’ve happened, foreveryone.This way, you and Judah and Leroy can’t ignore each other. Give them time, Kane, because you’re right. Youreallywere a fucking douchebag back then.”

I shook my head. “I really fucking was.” And I meant it.

His eyes were sad. “You know what I mean. It’s none of my business, but I never understood why. I mean in here—” He patted my chest. “—you’re not that guy, not at all. When you came back after university, you were like a different person.” He frowned. “No, that’s not right. You were more like therealyou. The kid I used to know at primary school, before your mum...”

“Died?”

He nodded.

I shot him a pointed look. “Yeah, well, I appreciate your faith, Terry, but you don’t really know me. No matter what you think is in here—” I pointed to my own chest. “—I still did those things. And apologies aren’t enough. The Maddens don’t owe meanything, and as soon as I’m on my feet and have a few things sorted out, I’ll get out of their hair and out ofJudah’ssight. That’s the best thanks I can give everyone.”

He held my gaze. “Fine. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here, any time. I don’t care what anyone else thinks, you’re not that same stupid kid anymore, Kane, not to me. You’re a friend.”

Dammit, I will not fucking cry. “Thanks,” I managed, looking away. “But I’m fine, really I am. And I should go, before that storm hits.” I pushed to my feet and grabbed the bag of dog food, loading it into my beat-up Honda Accord, then went back for my shopping. Terry’s watchful gaze tracked my every step, but he kept his thoughts to himself, for which I was grateful.

“Hey, Kane!” Henry appeared from the pharmacy, dangling a white paper bag in his hand. “Don’t leave without this. And I’m gonna need a new script from your doc next time, don’t forget.” He glanced to the end of the street. “That storm’s gonna be a doozy.”

CHAPTERTWO

Kane

As it turned out, I was slightly off in my storm calculation—no surprise there—and the first sheet of lightning lit up the sky above Painted Bay just as I pulled into the homestead. It was accompanied by a scattering of fat raindrops that splatted on the windscreen and then, in a few seconds, quickly enveloped the car.

“Fuck.” I grabbed the groceries from the back seat, took one look at the dog food, and knew I’d need to do a second run.Bugger.I sprinted for the stairs but hadn’t made it halfway there before the skies split open with a crack of thunder and the rain started bucketing down.

By the time I clambered up the stairs to my front door, I was drenched to the skin. The roof over the stairwell offered zero shelter from the driving easterly that was firing hail like shotgun pellets into my back. I threw open the door and stumbled inside, never more thankful that I had nothing of worth to justify locking the damn thing. Dropping the grocery bag on the floor, I grabbed the front door and fought to close it against the fierce wind threatening to clean the dust from my bedsit in one fell swoop.

“Son of a bitch.” I paused to catch my breath with my back still pressed to the door. A pitiful wail came from the bathroom to my left and a tiny black head poked out, eyes wide with terror. I immediately dropped to my knees and called the frightened cat over. “Hey, Bossy. Come ’ere.”

He warily scanned the room and then carefully picked his way across the worn mat to rub against my outstretched hand. But when a flash of lightning lit up the tiny bedsit and thunder rattled the corrugated iron roof above our heads, he made a swift beeline back into the bathroom.

I followed and found him cowered in his favourite spot between the toilet and the wall. “Come on, Braveheart.” I tucked my jersey into the waistband of my jeans and then fed Bostock down the front. He immediately curled into a ball against my belly and started purring.

With Bossy happy, I headed back into the bedsit, flicked on the heat pump, and started unpacking the groceries onto the butcher block I’d bought from Jam and fashioned to fit over the tired Formica countertop. A plastic container sat front and centre on the jerry-rigged workspace, and a smile broke over my face as I read the note taped to the top.

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