Gone Phishing

Chapter 3 Discovery

Chapter 3

Discovery

Sophia lifted the lid of the laptop while Dane ordered two coffees, her heart thudding in her chest. He returned to the table and found her staring at a blank screen. “You need to turn it on, kid,” he commented, placing the table marker in view of the barista.

“I know!” Sophia bit. “I’m not sure I want to find out what he’s up to.”

“He might be job hunting, or doing his CV.” Dane seized a slim packet of sugar and twisted it in his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Sophia felt relief course through her veins, releasing her from a terror of the unknown. “He won’t be able to apply for jobs at work; they’ll find out and his boss will go mad. I bet he’s set up another email account on here or something. That’ll be it.” She sat back in her seat and smiled at Dane. “I don’t need to look.”

“Okay.” He twisted the sugar again, bunching the contents up one end and then releasing the flimsy paper and repeating the motion. Sophia watched the movement of his lips as he concentrated, scooting her chair closer to his. When he turned towards her to speak, she placed her lips over his. “Tease,” he murmured against her face and nipped her lower lip.

Sophia rested her palm on his thigh and leaned back in her seat, watching an elderly couple sip coffee and ignore each other. The man read the newspaper and the woman looked out of the window. She didn’t know if that was acceptable or whether it was definitive proof, their marriage had failed. Then the man looked over the top of his paper and winked at the woman who smiled. “What?” Sophia heard the last word of Dane’s sentence but not the rest and forced him to repeat it.

“When do you go to Palmy?” The weight of the question hung over both of them.

“I’m not.” Sophia gritted her jaw and shook her head, vehemence in her eyes.

“Are you gonna live with your mum then?” Dane watched her, his expression confused.

“No. I don’t know what I’ll do but I can’t leave.” Her jaw worked and her eyes filled with tears. She leaned forward so she could whisper and still be heard. The barista interrupted them with their drinks and Sophia waited for the girl to walk back behind the counter. “I wondered if Bob and Ellen might let me live with them.” She searched Dane’s face. “What do you think?”

He shrugged and squirmed at the same time. “Maybe,” he replied, but doubt crept into his voice.

Sophia closed her eyes. “Sorry. I won’t ask, it’s okay.”

“No, no, don’t be daft. They’re your whānau, not mine.” He forced a smile onto his face and Sophia’s heart clenched with his use of the Māori word for family. The old lawyer and his wife showed Dane kindness when the awfulness of his home life put his two younger siblings into social care and left him sleeping in his car. She’d destroyed his sense of safety in twelve words. Of course they wouldn’t let her and Dane house share. They’d feel they had to chaperone and it would be Dane who moved on, not their god daughter.

“I’m sorry,” Sophia repeated, reaching for his hand beneath the table. “Selfishness makes people say dumb things. I can’t stay with them, anyway. They’d be Edgar’s spies.”

Dane c****d his head sideways, hearing the luke warm excuse and his eyes softened. He covered Sophia’s hand with his. “We’ll sort something out,” he said again, using the same platitude from earlier. His cheeks flushed. “Dunno why I keep saying that, Soph. I’m sorry. Heaps of people said that to me each time my life turned to crap and they never sorted anything out. They didn’t sleep under Boundary Bridge with me, staying awake to avoid the alkies and hobos night after night, did they?”

“Carl and Maria helped.” Sophia reminded him, flipping her hand so their fingers linked. “And Mr Moeras let you shower in the gym before school.” She glanced down at their complexions melded together, hers tanned but his a deep, natural olive, kissed by the New Zealand sunshine. They resembled a tasteful colour wheel as though they belonged together and the stabbing sensation began again in her chest. “Carl and Maria took Will and Maisie in.” Sophia forced a smile on her face. “And you for a time.”

Dane nodded. “Yeah, they did, before Bob and Ellen.”

Sophia closed her eyes and a stray tear flicked onto the table with the motion of her lashes. She took tiny breaths in an attempt to control the swirling emotions which enticed her to lash out in panic and steal someone else’s safety. Dane’s hand caressed her cheek, his fingers soft. “Hey,” he said.

Her mission to maintain self-control failed and Sophia’s chest locked up, forcing her words out in halting, hysterical jolts; not making any sense. Dane pushed her face into his shoulder and wrapped his arms tight around her, instinct and experience telling him what she needed. He whispered in her ear, words she couldn’t hear above her fractured gasps and the heaving of her lungs.

They sat in the corner intertwined, observers seeing a distressed young woman with her comforter and not two school children, even though one wore a school issue shirt and trousers. The other customers got bored with staring and went back to their drinks, leaving Dane to stroke Sophia’s dark curls away from her forehead and battle their demons alone.

Sophia kept her face pressed against Dane’s shirt until her embarrassment passed. Then it felt nice, so she stayed longer, listening to his heart perform regular beats in his strong chest. Her hands strayed around his back and she linked her fingers, feeling his soft kisses on the top of her head. When she sat up, she faced away from the untidy tables and chairs pushed in at careless angles. Her eyes raked the car park while the flush faded from her cheeks and her blood pressure dropped within normal limits. The white tee shirt clung to the base of her spine and armpits, damp with sweat. The familiar coolness made her shiver and she leaned her temple against Dane’s shoulder and resented her life’s re-entry into turmoil.

“Here, dry your tears, Soph.” The crinkly napkin appeared in front of her face and Sophia took it, patting her cheeks and eyes. It rustled like cheap tissue but performed its task well enough for her to sit up.

“Sorry,” she said again. “I forgot what a wimp I am.” She forced out a laugh which sounded fake even to her.

Dane shook his head, understanding in his crystalline blue irises. “Na. You get over one crisis and decide you’ll never go there again. Then life throws you a curly one and you’re back in the mess like you never left.” The voice of experience made him sound older than his years. Decades older, like a retired soldier who’d seen more war than peace. Dane had.

Sophia’s eyes lit with gratitude and she scooted forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead against his. “I love you, Dane McArdle,” she whispered, pressing her damp lips against the silky dry mouth and feeling a shiver of desire low in her belly. “I’ll leave this town when you’re done with me and not before.” She watched his eyes narrow and curve upwards, long lashes swishing together and apart in a sultry dance that matched the smile on his lips.

“Okay,” he whispered back. “Then let’s see what we can do.” He reached for the laptop and lifted the lid, dark brows furrowed and his blue eyes filled with dread.