Page 70 of Sparring Partners
Luca picked up his mobile, ready this time to make the call he’d told himself wasn’t his to make. A new voicemail message blinked. How had he… Of course, he’d muted the thing. Maybe Adrian had beaten him to it? But the flare of hope in his chest snuffed out. It wasn’t a number he recognised. He should leave it for now… but his resolve of just moments ago was already weakening. He’d deal with the message, and then he’d call Adrian.
He tapped the play icon and pressed it to his ear.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
Adrian stared out over the hills leading up to the high moor. The morning’s soft autumn sunlight had faded, leaving a distant threat of storm clouds in its wake. A chill crept over him and he shivered, the sweat on his skin turning to ice. Labour, back breaking, mindless labour, to numb his brain as it numbed his body. It hadn’t worked. Throwing the shovel aside, he stomped across the field towards the farmhouse, head down and shoulders slumped.
“Boss?”
Adrian looked up. In the farmyard, Harry shuffled from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms, pushing his hands into the hip pockets of his work stained jeans, before pulling them out again.
“What?” Adrian snapped.
“Er…” A deep flush flooded Harry’s face. “I, erm, was wondering…”
Adrian stifled his groan.
“What is it you want, Harry?” If he’d softened his tone, it didn’t show in Harry’s face, but he didn’t have the energy to care.
“Just wondering if everything’s okay? Not being nosy, or anything, but erm, I’ve noticed you’ve not been yourself for the last couple of days or so. Elena’s noticed it too…”
Adrian barked out a rough laugh. Harry looked like he wanted to run and never look back. God, he didn’t blame him. What if he were to do the same? Just walk out, and leave it all behind…
“I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment. If I’ve been even more of a bad tempered fucker than usual, just keep your head down. Safer for everybody that way.”
“You’re back to how you were before.” Harry blurted the words out, his face turning from red to deepest scarlet.
Adrian narrowed his eyes, but Harry stood his ground. Harry, easy going and eternally sunny, a smile always at the ready, met his gaze. The man had balls, and flushed and fidgety though he was, he wasn’t ready to back down.
“How do you mean, like before?” But Adrian knew, the truth of the young farm worker’s words punching him hard in the chest.
Luca. A hard, cold hand pushed into his heart, twisting and turning. There had been before Luca; there had been Luca; now, there was after Luca.Only if you let it…
“You, you just seem to be closed off. The, er, way you used to be, before…” Harry trailed to a stop as his courage deserted him.
“Like I say, I’ve got a lot on my mind. If I’ve been—”Growling and snarling, like a rabid dog,“—difficult to be around, or more difficult than normal, then I’m sorry.”
“You’re better with him. It’s all I wanted to say. You’re more…” Harry shrugged. “Well, you’re just better.”
Adrian stared at Harry, at his flushed, embarrassed, mortified face, at eyes that screamed he wanted to be anywhere but here, having this awkward, stilted conversation. But Harry’s gaze held his own, and refused to flinch.
“Go home, Harry.”
“But—”
“Just go home.” Adrian turned towards the farmhouse. He blinked hard to clear his wet, wavy vision, slamming the door behind him.
Falling back against the solid, warm wood, his legs buckled beneath him. Sliding to the floor, he covered his face with his hands that were powerless to stop the flood of tears from falling.
* * *
The wood was gloomy, the light penetrating the canopy dull and sunless. Mid afternoon, it felt more like evening. A rumble of thunder split the sky overhead, louder than earlier, when he’d fled the farmhouse. The threatened storm, a long time coming, was rolling in fast.
Pushing through the thick undergrowth, and climbing over fallen trees, Adrian stumbled onwards. His body on auto pilot, responding to muscle memory, he didn’t have to think about where he was going.
Harry’s words echoed in his head. He’d been a better man with Luca in his life. He’d been easier. He’d been brighter, and had laughed more. And it was true, so fucking true.
The ferns and branches had reclaimed the little stone hut, and Adrian pulled them aside, exposing the old, warped wood door. Opening it up, he breathed in the damp, earthy air. Searching in his pocket for a coin, he found a few coppers and dropped them into the well, listening for the faint splash as they hit the underground stream. It felt like he was making an offering to an ancient god, its name long forgotten.
