Page 23 of Bring You Back

Her face scrunches. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Then don’t ask stupid questions.”

Her eyes move along the edges of my face, avoiding my stare, her jaw working in thought. I want to hear them, and yet I don’t. Just not right fucking now. I open my mouth to say something, anything that will make her give me some space, but she finally relents and stalks to the door.

“Whatever. Thanks for showing you caredbefore.”

That last part is tossed over her shoulder, then she’s gone, leaving the door open in her wake. I expected a slam, but as much as Reyna likes to give a show, and take out her feelings on defenseless doors—almost as much as I do—she’ll also want to save face with present company nearby. Instead of getting up to close the door myself, I flop back down. Tommy and Camille won’t bother me after that exit I made.

The thought of Banks charging into my house unannounced spurs me up. If anyone will bother me, it’ll be him. I slam the door again, not caring who hears. I tell myself to get that lock. With the way things appear to be going, I might need one now.

What Idon’tneed is to be here right now.

Why did I come here exactly? My jaw sets as I remember this morning. Randall. Reyna. His hand on Reyna’s ass.Thanks for showing you caredbefore.

My hand is on the knob, preparing to turn, when I recall Reyna’sshiftcomment. I don’t have to make sure she doesn’t go back home just yet, because I won’t have to worry about her for several more hours. She’ll be at the ice cream shop most of the day.

The surf shop is open, but it’s my day off. That fact doesn’t matter right now, because the edge has intensified and Reyna is off doing something else. I missed the routine of my morning and I need to dosomething. I need a sense of normalcy.

I grab some clean clothes, then march across the hall to the bathroom—the room with a lock—with the mindset that I can convince Jake to let me work today. It shouldn’t be hard; I’m the son of the owner.

Oh, wait. I’mnotthe son of the owner. I just have his last name.

Once I’m changed, I spare the time to brush my teeth and run a hand through my hair, forgoing a shower until tonight. I’ll be back in the water soon enough.

I keep my stare straight and on nothing in particular as I stalk down the hall, through the kitchen, and to the living room toward freedom. The thought of possibly coming face to face with my father at the shop hits me once I’m already out the door.

6

The Whore of Bellsby

Julian

The surf shop sits near the entrance of the boardwalk. The sign—Curl & Crest Surf Shop—is the first thing you see when you walk or ride on. So, it’s the first stop for tourists. And they’re everywhere. I tend to not notice them—just more people to bypass, a staple of summer. And this is mainly what they come for. It’s no secret that we have one of the best boardwalks in New England.

The possibility of coming face to face with my dad is now a certainty. I don’t have to get far to see him through the throng.

Brent Fowler stands a few feet in front of me, outside the door to the shop, laughing with his mistress. She can’t exactly be called a mistress by traditional definition. My parents were together my whole life, but they weren’t married. I wondered why until my mother told me some new age bullshit one day about not needing a piece of paper to be happy. I gave her that, because youdon’tneed a piece of paper to be happy, but you know what youdoneed? A solid foundation. That’s the true reason my parents weren’t married. Turns out, their foundation was rocky from the start. Built on a lie.

We’re all at fault. My mom’s at fault for cheating with a one-off early in her relationship with my dad, letting him believe I was his. Dad’s at fault for forgiving her after he found out and sticking around—for me. He’s at fault for not being able to truly let her betrayal go and tumbling into bed with another woman ten years his junior. Now, that woman is pregnant and my dad’s going to be the proud father to his first biological child.

I’m at fault for introducing them.

Dad needed a new surf teacher for the shop, and I found Tiffany Landis by happenstance out on the beach one day. She was an amazing surfer with an equally amazing body. I figured she’d lure in a lot of potentials. And she did. She also lured in my dad. Spread her legs to give him a whiff of her pheromones.

My dad breathed her in, and just like that, his dick found a new home.

It’s funny how both my parents’ affairs resulted in babies. I wonder how this new kid will feel about that.You are the product of a long held grudge and a simmering desire for revenge. Good luck, buddy.

Real fucking hilarious.

Tiffany laughs again, so in line with my thoughts that I laugh, too. Until I stop a second later just from looking at her. She’s bright-eyed and just too fucking happy for someone who had a hand in breaking apart a family.

I should’ve brought my dad a dude. Save us all a shitload of problems.

I’m not mad that he’s preventing me from trying to work right now. I don’t exactly have a right to be. I asked him to stay away from the shop on my work days. Just the sight of him short-circuits my flow. And so far, he has. He’s as good a listener as he is a liar. It’s my day off, so he shouldn’t be seeing me here, either.

I dart through the crowd right as his face shifts my way, then start a leisurely stroll once I’m too far gone for him to spot me.

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