Page 63 of Adrift Without You
Chris sighs, letting go of my hand. “Dan, you know I can’t go. My parents are moving house that weekend and they need my help. I already promised. But you go. I know how much you miss your sister.”
“Yeah, you sure?”
“Yeah, of course. Anything to get you out of this mood you’re in.”
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
After driving for an hour, I’m now sitting across the road from James Johnson’s law firm. A week ago, after ruminating on what Ky told me about James, I’d stalked my way through his social media, gathering information. Then I’d searched for James’s work address, and now I’m here acting like a jealous boyfriend. I don’t know what my intentions are, or what I’m looking for, but my gut tells me I need to do this.
The moment I spot James exiting the building with a young man at his side, anger pricks at my skin. Slipping out of the Ute, I lean against the door and light up a cigarette, watching them talk. As much as it pisses me off to say, James is a good-looking man, even though he’s in his fifties. It’s easy to understand why Ky was attracted to him when he was young: he represents what Ky believed he needed to escape his shitty childhood.
The man with James looks like he might be in his mid-twenties. He’s masculine and tall with honey-blonde hair and, honestly, looks like he stepped off a GQ cover. It takes me allof ten seconds to notice the body language between them, and the look of awe and admiration in the young man’s eyes. I’m not even remotely surprised at what I appear to have stumbled upon. The two of them seem to be having some sort of playful debate; a few minutes later they head off in the same direction.
I cross the road to follow them. James has no idea what I look like since our conversations have all been via phone or email, so I follow close behind. The two men bump their hands together every now and again and I stifle a laugh, wondering who they think they’re fooling.
When they enter a parking garage, I fall back a little. What I hope to achieve by being here is a mystery. Should I approach them? Part of me wants to beat the living shit out of James, but I’m not sure what that will achieve—either for me or for Ky.
Ky coming back into my life has got me acting in ways I haven’t in many years, and that excites me as much as it scares me.
James and his little gold digger stop at an expensive black sports car, so I position myself behind a concrete pillar, far enough away that they won’t notice me. When the young guy pushes James against the car and snakes a hand around the back of his neck, I quickly fumble in my pocket for my phone. By the time I get the camera open and focused on them, they have their tongues down each other’s throats. I snap multiple photos, then zoom in and take a few more. I manage to capture two close ups of James with his head thrown back while his young lover licks up his neck. Fucking gross; James is old enough to be this guy’s father.
Having seen enough, I decide it’s time to head back to my car. I’m pissed that James is cheating on Ky, but I’m also glad I might have secured something useful.
It’s not until I’m halfway home that I curse myself for not thinking to film it.
The next day, I slip out of work to get copies of the photos. When I return to the office, I type a simple message and print it out along with an envelope labelledKyle. Sure, I could give the photos to him in person, or simply text the digital images, but that would open things up between us again when I’m trying so damn hard to get my head straight. I also don’t want Ky knowing I tracked down and tailed his husband, because nothing says,I’m not over youquite like stalking.
On Saturday, I tell Chris that one of my staff is sick, and I need to head into work. Instead, I drive to the Johnson house and sit patiently up the road. Thirty minutes later, James comes out with some golf clubs—of course the douche plays golf—and drives off in his silver Mercedes. Just to be sure, I wait another five minutes, then move my car closer for a quick getaway.
The three-car garage has stupidly been left open, and both Ky’s Porsche and SUV are there, so I know he’s home. There must be security cameras covering the entire property, but hopefully no one’s paying any attention.
Creeping up the front path at a rapid pace, I place the envelope at the front door, ring the bell, and all but run back to my car. As I drive away, my heart beats wildly, wanting nothing more than to go back and set my eyes on Ky, if only for a second.
Chapter 35
Kyle
Now
Iglance at the security screen, but there’s no one on the front porch so I open the door to get a better look. As I step outside, my foot connects with something, almost sending it into the garden. Picking up the white envelope, I turn it over to find myname printed on the front. I step back inside and close the door behind me, opening the envelope and pulling out the contents.
There’s a folded piece of white paper with something thicker inside. Unfolding it, my eyes widen at the image staring back at me. It’s a photo of James kissing another man. A veryyoungman by the looks of it.
There are other photos too, and, as I flick through them, a smile spreads across my face. I have evidence and a bargaining chip. Or blackmail even, if it comes down to it. There’s a message on the back:
I hope this is what you need to divorce that motherfucker and clean him out.
Bren. I can almost hear his deep gravelly voice saying the words. It brings tears to my eyes knowing he’s still thinking of me and wanting to protect me. Even if it’s only from afar.
It shifts something inside me, giving me a sense of peace. Bren may never return to my side, but I know in my heart he’ll always love me. And maybe that will have to be enough.
On Saturday morning, Lu and I arrive at the new house shortly before 9:30. All the new furniture is scheduled for delivery between ten and two and I don’t want to risk missing one. It’s Lu’s first time seeing the new place, and I’m nervous about how she’s going to react moving from a mansion by the beach to a modest suburban house. I could’ve spent more, but without knowing how expensive my legal fees might be and what I’ll be awarded in the divorce settlement, it’s best to be frugal.
“Is it this one?” Lu asks, pointing to the house in front of us as she closes the car door.
“Yep, this is it. What do you think? I know it’s small.”
“It looks nice, Dad. The garden is pretty, and it has a cool vintage vibe.”
