Page 56 of Last Breath (Blood Wine Dynasty #2)

Nella

They all had their guesses, but no one had ever agreed on the exact reason why Nella had always been an appalling driver.

Some said it was because she’d always been slightly uncoordinated and too hot-headed and proud to ever keep trying at something she wasn’t instantly brilliant at the first time around.

Others said it was because she’d secretly wanted the Barbarani driver to spend more time teaching her.

Deep down, she wanted to need someone. Secretly, she was willing to sacrifice a small piece of her pride, to need him.

Because needing him made her feel alive. Needing him made her feel vulnerable, and human, and imperfect, and all those things she’d fought her whole life to prove to her father and the rest of the world that she wasn’t.

How had she been so blind?

She didn’t know how she made it to Devil’s Pool, which, on the Find My iPhone app was just a tiny blue dot pulsing like a sick little blue heart.

Her real heart, also blue, also cold, was in her throat.

All her joints were stiff and shaking with the exertion of pedals and clutches and indicators and headlights (which she’d remembered after the first ten minutes). But she’d made it.

Her chest constricted. Devil’s Pool was the most dangerous cliff jumping location in all of WA. Jett wasn’t an amateur, but the ocean didn’t give a shit about that.

Where was Jett? Had he jumped? How long ago?

There was only one car in the beachside car park, a white Corolla with a dent in the front. It looked vaguely familiar but since she couldn’t care less about cars she didn’t know if it was the same or just a similar model.

There was something moving out on the cliff. People.

One of the figures looked tall – was it Jett? Maybe.

The other was short and slight and holding something in one hand ... No.

She didn’t remember leaving the car. She didn’t know if she shut the door or took out the key or if the handbrake was on.

She’d kicked her heels off back in the garage, not thinking any further ahead than the need to operate three pedals and her bare feet screamed as she flew across the rough bitumen to the prickly grass, then cold, soft sand and finally the jagged edges of the cliffs.

Wind gripped at her hair and skin. There were voices up on the ridge, but the ocean crashing against the rocks and her heavy breathing drowned them out.

It was a female voice first. Familiar, but not.

‘Keep going, right to the edge.’ Nella knew that voice. She squinted up. Pink hair. Daisy! But at the same time, it wasn’t Daisy. It was her voice, but sharper, like she’d sawed it to a lethal point. The thing in her hand was a gun.

Frigid water stung her calves as Nella manoeuvred herself so she could hear what they were saying, still remaining out of sight, but dangerously close to the crashing, angry waves at the edge of the cliff.

She was right below Daisy and the other figure now, beneath the overhang at the mid-point selfie spot – for those not actually jumping but wanting the world to think they had.

Perfect for shielding people from the photo-ruining glare of natural sunlight and for completely hiding Nella.

Her whole body shook – with cold or fear she didn’t know – but she clung close to the rocks, moving as quickly as she dared without her shadow being seen.

‘Maybe if you just explained what it is I’ve done, I could change it ... If you kill me ... don’t you think that will make Nella upset?’

It was Jett. Her grip slipped. Rock scraped her palms. Blood.

If you kill me.

They weren’t doing the cliff jump. This wasn’t some weird adrenaline chasing game. He was in danger.

The realisation almost had her plummeting into the icy depths of the water. But she didn’t. She was all he had – and that knowledge dug invisible claws through her fingers into the rock face.

‘Nella doesn’t care about you like you think she does,’ Daisy said. ‘She’s told me in confidence. We’re very close, you know.’

Jett didn’t say anything. Nella peered as high as she dared over the rocks to check he was still standing. His silhouette was still.

The wind carried Daisy’s voice like the whoosh of an atomic bomb from a war drone.

‘She said you’ve always been pathetically in love with her.

She felt sorry for you because of your childhood, you know?

She told me all about it. And now, poor thing, she feels guilty for leading you on.

But I made her see sense. We had a good laugh about it – the image of you with Nella Barbarani.

It’s so pathetic, Jett, the way you follow her around like a lost puppy.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell you it’s borderline creepy.

It makes her uncomfortable how invested you are in her life.

I thought things would be better for her once you finally took this new job you’ve been talking about.

But it’s like you’re obsessed with her or something.

You can’t leave her alone. And then you hurt her, in Italy – you really, really hurt her.

Anyone could see it. And I’m sorry, I can’t let you do it again.

I’m her guardian angel, you see? I’ve always been there for her. ’

It was the sensation of being in a dream and not being able to run.

What in the goddamn hell was Daisy talking about?

Nella had barely even mentioned Jett to Daisy.

The most he’d ever come up was when Nella found out they were dating.

And she’d never said any of those disgusting, outrageous lies, so where the fuck had Daisy come up with them?

Staying silent when all she wanted to do was scream was torture, like swimming to the top of the ocean, lungs bursting. She needed to break through.

‘I’m sorry I made Nella feel that way.’ Jett’s voice was calm, but a river of cold ran through Nella’s veins. ‘But I promise you, my bag’s already packed. I’m leaving in the morning. I won’t come back, I will have no part in her life anymore. You have my word, Sally.’

Sally?

A cold hand wrapped around Nella’s throat.

No. No. No. No.

The reason Devil’s Pool was so popular with locals and tourists alike was that, despite the height of the cliff, it was easy to climb up, making people feel like they’d done something ‘alternative’ and ‘outdoorsy’ without breaking any kind of sweat that would threaten the aesthetics of their Instagram post. Nella didn’t breathe as she scrambled up the far side of the rock wall on the western edge of the selfie-overhang – not thinking about how it was going to be almost impossible to get back down. If she made it that far.

‘Ah, but you see there’s a problem now.’ Daisy – no, Sally .

.. Sally Sue clicked her tongue. ‘You know who I really am. And I’ve been such a good girl since I got out of prison.

I’ve been so good, and I’ve changed, really and truly.

I know I was silly trying to hide Nella away last time.

I was young and foolish, you know? So silly.

But now it’s different. See, Nella and I have made a real connection – she likes me, she respects me.

Our relationship is real, unlike the fantasy you live in.

She’ll never see you as more than the fucking piece of trash you’ve always been. ’

Nella let out a laugh. ‘You’re the one living in the fantasy.’

Nella had no weapons. No special skills. She was barely able to drive the car here. All she had was her voice, her tongue and her ability to push everyone away. If only that could translate to pushing Sally over the edge of Devil’s Pool.

She stood, fully exposed to Sally’s gun, to the spraying water and the dangerous unpredictability of the waves.

‘Nella! No ...’ Jett’s words stumbled out of him.

‘Why are you here ?’ He moved towards her but Sally, who’d turned in shock at the sound of Nella’s voice, spun round, gun steadily pointed at his heart.

Even if she didn’t shoot him in the chest, he was too close to the edge – he’d fall off the cliff.

‘You found us.’

Now that she was listening, truly listening, Nella could hear it.

That voice that had haunted her for so long.

The voice that told her not to trust anyone, not to be stupid, to always, always look twice at people.

Sally Sue had made sure Nella always looked at every good thing, every offer of friendship, of love, of career progression as though it were laced with razorblades.

Except for Daisy.

Nella tracked her colleague’s familiar features, her heart thumping.

It was like stripping wallpaper to reveal the ugly, concrete truth that had been staring her in the face this whole time.

Pink hair with the regrowth religiously touched up – Nella had never thought to consider Daisy’s natural hair colour.

The nose ring that forced you to ignore her slightly too-wide nostrils.

Eyes too blue. And the weight. Nella had always assumed Daisy was just one of those naturally slim girls who didn’t have much of an appetite, but the hollows of her cheekbones, the bumpy edges of her skin suddenly seemed forced, gouged out by Ozempic or another synthetic weight-loss potion.

Daisy, the country girl with the rough past and the shiny future, who needed to be saved but was never needy.

A seamstress carefully taking all of Nella’s measurements, she’d fashioned herself into a bespoke gown that fit perfectly into Nella’s life.

She’d made herself irresistible by reaching into Nella’s heart, twisting all her challenges, all her pain, all her guilt into a pink-haired, nose-ringed paralegal she knew Nella would be unable to resist slipping on forever. Daisy.

Sally Sue.

She was a masterpiece. She was brilliant.