After I loaded up the basket with the salads and a few other condiments, I ran upstairs and jumped in the shower to get ready. I was pulling on my jeans when I heard a door open and close downstairs. Great, Max had come after all. Those texts were all just a mix up. I quickly sprayed my favourite perfume on and made my way downstairs to him.
***
MAX
“Hey, Ma,” Marco yelled out from the patio. “Tell Mia to start bringing the food out. I’m starving.”
“Go get it yourself, you lazy shit,” Milan responded from her own lazy position on the sun-lounger. “And keep those lecherous eyes to yourself.”
I chuckled at their banter. Milan had just come out of the pool, and Marco was literally drooling over her wet, dripping body. Mind you, Milan was lapping it up; she loved to yank his chain. Although they had a love-hate relationship, it was blatantly obvious they were both mutually attracted, but avoided each other like the plague.
“Like you haven’t been leering at me for the last half hour; you can’t talk. Why don’t you get off your ass and go bring things out!”
“Will you two just knock it off, for fuck’s sake?” Zane interrupted them, as he arrived. “Maybe the both of you should go help Mia bring everything out instead of flinging insults at one another like a bunch of adolescent children.”
Milan glared at Zane. “I’m waiting for my sister to get here with the salads!” Milan looked over at me. “Max, has Jada texted you yet to go pick her up; she’s taking ages.”
“Yes, she has. Jada texted me about five minutes ago saying she’s running late and she’ll drive down herself.”
Zane grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side before Milan could answer me. “I need to talk to you now, and it’s extremely important,” he whispered so no one else could hear. “I know you haven’t looked at that file yet, Max. You need to see those pictures.” He pushed the manila envelope at me. “Open it.”
I opened the file. I read through the police report. It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know that hadn’t been explained to me by Archie. “I already know about all this, Zane.”
“Keep fucking reading, Max, and look at the pictures of the victim.” Zane was gritting his teeth as he spoke so Marco and Milan wouldn’t hear him. Not that they were paying any attention to us anyway; they were too engrossed in themselves or each other.
I pulled out the photographs and looked; I still wasn’t sure what was so important about them. They were of a young woman that had been brutally attacked. I knew they would be quite gruesome, but nothing prepared me for what I saw next. There was a picture of the woman’s face, bloodied, weeping wounds across her face and so many bruises she was almost unrecognizable. Almost.
Jada’s words from the other night came back to haunt me.
“I didn’t. He almost got rid of me.”
Tate Turner attacked Jada. Put her in hospital. Could this be her in the pictures? I looked closer. The eyes, they were the same emerald green. There was a beauty spot just above her lip on the left, like Jada’s. And her hair – was no longer blonde; it was covered in blood. All I could see was blood. I grabbed Zane by the shirt, desperate for an answer. “Is this Jada?”
Zane didn’t speak, but I could see it in his eyes. Fuck. No. This is not her. No, it can’t be. When she described her attack the other night, I never imagined it was this bad. No, not my Princess.
“Zane, I swear I want to kill that fucker. I’m so angry. I can’t think straight.” I pulled out my phone to call Jada just as Zane’s phone began ringing.
“Yeah, Zane here.”
Silence.
“When? What do you mean now, here in the Barossa? Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck. I’m on it.”
The next few moments happened so fast it was all a blur. Zane turned to face me. The look on his face was one of concern, confusion and alarm. “What is it, Zane? Tell me.”
Never one to beat around the bush, Zane answered me immediately, “It’s Tate Turner. He’s escaped from prison, and he’s here in the Barossa. We need to get to Jada. He’s headed out to the Sinclair Estate.”
“No!” I screamed.
Marco and Milan whirled around, their faces registering astonishment. My parents, Jada’s parents and Mia ran out, sensing disaster.
“Max?” My mother asked worriedly.
“What the hell, son?” My father questioned.
I didn’t acknowledge any of them. My heart slammed in my chest as I dropped the pictures, scattering them all over the pavers. My phone fell out of my hand, hit the ground and the screen smashed. I ran, tearing through the house, wanting to get to my car but I had no idea in what direction to go in first.