Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) - By Caitlyn Robertson Page 0,51

up. What had Cathryn said to her? She would have told Honey about the kiss, obviously. Was that all, or had she said other cruel things?

He pounded the steering wheel, nearly veering off the road in the process—not good when he was driving a cop car still in uniform. But at that moment, he could happily have taken Cathryn’s neck in his hands and squeezed until she stopped breathing. Hatred welled inside him, clear and pure. She’s ill, people had said to him at the time, not quite right in the head. You should feel sorry for her.

Like fuck he should. He was done feeling sorry.

He shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on Cathryn now. His first priority had to be Honey, and how to put things right with her.

He refused to accept that he couldn’t put things right. Somehow, he’d make her understand how much he loved her.

Eventually, after what seemed like forever, he pulled up at the house. Cam and Koru slid into the parking spot beside him. Lily’s car sat in the drive next to Honey’s. Honey’s car had a smashed windscreen. Dex swallowed, hoping she hadn’t been hurt.

They got out and ran into the house. Lily stood in the centre of the living room. Always pale, now she looked as white as a sheet of paper, her eyes wide with worry as her father and brother walked in.

“Where is she?” Dex demanded as he came in behind them.

Lily’s gaze slid to him and her eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Where is she?” Cam echoed.

“She’s locked herself in the downstairs bathroom.”

Dex twitched to walk there but Koru grabbed his arm. “Just wait a minute.”

Cam went out of the room and along the corridor. Dex heard him knock on the door.

“Honey?” Cam called. “It’s Dad.”

Dex could just hear her murmur something.

“I’m not going away. Come out please, we need to talk.”

Another murmur.

“Come out and talk like a grown up, please. Koru’s here and so’s Dex.”

This time there was no murmur. Dex walked slowly to the doorway and looked along the corridor to where Cam leaned against the doorjamb.

“Come on, sweetheart, come out.” Cam folded his arms, head bowed. “Nothing’s happened that we can’t get over together.”

“Leave me alone.” This time Dex heard her words.

“Dex is here and he wants to see you,” Cam said. “He loves you, sweetheart, and he’s sorry.”

“Tell him to fuck off.”

Dex closed his eyes.

“Honey, come on,” Cam urged. “You’re not twelve anymore. Come out.”

“I want some time to myself. Just go away.”

“Please come out and just talk to Dex. He’s your fiancé and you’re getting married on Saturday—you need to talk to him.”

Honey murmured something that Dex didn’t catch. Cam sighed and looked over at him.

“What did she say?” Dex asked.

“She said ‘The wedding’s off.’”

Chapter Twenty-One

Honey could hear her father talking to Dex along the corridor. She knew Dex would try to talk to her and convince her to come out. Couldn’t they see she wanted some time alone? She needed to think, to work through the tangled wool of her brain and get things clear.

Pushing herself to her feet, she stood on the toilet seat and opened the bathroom window. Luckily she was wearing trousers. She pulled herself up and over the ledge, held onto the palm tree outside the window and managed to manoeuvre herself down onto the grass. It would take them a while to figure out she wasn’t in there.

She ran soundlessly across the lawn behind the house to the copse of trees at the bottom, then followed the river to the bush forming the Waitangi Forest that lay at the foot of their property. The palms and ferns closed around her, welcoming her into their quiet world, enveloping her in the fresh, earthy smell of nature.

For a while she just walked, staying close to the river so she didn’t get lost, accompanied by flittering fantails hopping from tree to tree, tui birds calling from the high palms, and once even a weta, the huge cricket-like insect—big as her hand—waving its long antennae at her as she passed.

Eventually, she reached the waterfall that tumbled over the rocks, the water dark green in the fading light. There she sank down with her back against a palm and waited for the expected rush of emotion to overtake her.

Strangely, though, the tears didn’t come. Instead, all she felt was a kind of dull acceptance. She’d gone through the five stages of grief, she thought absently—she’d tried to deny it to