Absolution

 

Callum stood on Ally’s front doorstep, shuffling nervously from one foot to the other. He knocked on the door again, frowning at Jack’s car in the driveway. Where the hell were they? As it became clear that no one was coming to answer the door, he turned on his heel, took the steps off the porch two at a time, and headed around the back of the house. He tried to force down the bad feeling that rose in his gut. First the goliath mooching around Jack’s place, now Ally wasn’t answering the door? His brain conjured up a myriad of images, none of them pleasant.

 

He rounded the corner of the house and stopped dead. Jack and Ally were sitting on the yard loungers, kissing. He felt as if he’d been kicked in the stomach.

 

Slowly, they separated and, like a voyeur, he watched as Jack stroked her hair. The exquisitely sweet, shy smile on her face told him more than enough.

 

Ally glanced his way and her smile faded. She murmured something and Jack turned his way, too. Drawing himself up straight, he walked towards them.

 

“Hey,” Callum said, as Ally reached for her crutches.

 

Jack stood up, his expression just as guarded as his own. “Hey.”

 

“I knocked a couple of times, around front.”

 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to act more relaxed than he felt.

 

“Sorry,” Ally fumbled with her crutches as she hurried to stand. “Guess we couldn’t hear you from out here.”

 

Jack was sizing him up, one eye on Ally, the other on him. It gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction that Jack was worried. Good – he should be. Which brought him back to the main reason for his visit.

 

“Sorry to interrupt but I was actually looking for you,” he addressed Jack. “Can we talk?”

 

Jack shrugged and threw another sidelong glance at Ally. Although he wasn’t thrilled with what he had stumbled across, Callum didn’t want to cause her any more distress.

 

“It’s okay,” he winked at her, conjuring up a wry smile. “I just want to talk. Promise.”

 

She nodded anxiously and he shifted his attention back to Jack. “Quick word, in private?”

 

Jack followed in silence as Ally looked on.

 

“I’ve just come from your place,” he murmured, as soon as they were out of earshot. “And there was some guy snooping around outside the house.”

 

Jack stopped still. “What guy?”

 

“A big guy.”

 

Jack reeked of anxiety, although he didn’t move. “Did you talk to him?”

 

Callum shrugged. “Well, I didn’t know who the hell he was and he looked pretty damn suspicious to me, so yeah – I asked him what he was doing.”

 

“And?”

 

“Said he was looking for you.”

 

“Me, personally?”

 

“Asked for you by name,” Callum said, getting slightly concerned at the tone of the conversation.

 

“What did you tell him?”

 

“I told him I hadn’t seen you for years. Offered to pass on his number if you showed up, but that seemed to spook him and he took off.”

 

“Was he alone?”

 

“He got into a car across the street, I couldn’t see the driver,” he frowned. “Did I do the right thing?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack rubbed a hand over his face. “I mean, yeah – probably.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Then guess,” Callum glared at him.

 

“Look, I don’t know, okay?” Jack snapped.

 

“Getting sick of your damn secrets, dude,” Callum shot back. “I need a straight answer for once – is there any chance this might have a knock-on effect for Ally?”

 

Jack scratched the back of his neck, glancing over towards the house.

 

It wasn’t exactly the response Callum was hoping for.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

 

 

 

“Friendship is like a glass ornament. Once broken, it can rarely be put back together exactly the same way.”

 

- Charles Kingsley

 

 

 

 

One Year Earlier

 

 

 

The bar was like many others that Jack had happened on over the past three years. Dark and quiet, tucked away in a less-than-desirable part of town, with a bartender who looked like he was working out his final days until retirement. His boots had stuck to the floor slightly as he made his way to a seat at the far end of the bar, away from the door. Even the bar stool itself had seen better days.

 

None of this made any difference, though. This was exactly the kind of establishment that Jack felt comfortable in these days – somewhere he could blend in and have a quiet drink without causing anyone to take a second look.

 

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