Page 30 of Jaxon

CHAPTER 13

JAXON

"There are donuts!" Theo yelled up the stairs. "But hurry cuz they're goin' fast!" After reluctantly dropping Bridget back at home, I got to the Shack and downed a few more beers before falling into bed for a restless night of sleep. Bridget was basically being held hostage by her father. There had to be a way out for her, for us. I pulled on shorts and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Theo had even bought coffee.

Griffin was already wolfing down a maple bar.

"I know it was my turn to get groceries," Theo said, "but I was broke. I needed new shocks on my mountain bike."

I grabbed a chocolate donut and a cup of coffee. "So we've been licking the dust out of the cereal boxes all week because you wanted a smoother ride down the trail?"

Theo shrugged. "Well, when you say it like that it makes me sound like a real asshole."

Griffin and I looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

"Anyway, I sold that old BMX bike and you will be happy to know that I'm going to buy groceries today. After I ride," he added.

"Guess we'll believe it when the moldy block of cheese isn't the freshest thing in the fridge," Griffin said. He turned his attention my way. "You took the bike out last night."

"Very observant," I said.

"Well, you don't take it out unless your car is out of gas or you're trying to impress a girl. Is it her? Bridget Walsh?"

Theo laughed and nearly spit out donut chunks. "Why the hell would an old road bike impress a woman who grew up in mansions and limousines?"

"I don't need a bike to impress anyone." Donuts or not, Theo was getting on my nerves. It was time for a subject change. I drank some coffee. "Where's Cru?"

"Saw him leave with his surfboard an hour ago," Griffin said.

Theo looked up. "Really? Wonder where he was heading? I had a bunch of people text me that Walsh and his security pit bulls have closed off Croft Beach."

I picked up another donut and was about to take another bite. "You don't think he—" I stopped. "Fucking Cru." I put down the donut and got up.

"What's going on?" Griffin asked. "Do you think he went to Croft Beach anyway?"

I gave Griffin a "what do you think?" look. He put down his donut. "Right. Of course he did."

Minutes later, the three of us piled into Griffin's truck for a trip to Croft Beach. "Cru isn't going to let this go," Theo said. "I told him it was probably best to start looking for a new surf spot. But Wilkin's Beach has too many rocks and a deadly sandbar, and the beaches in Oceanview—well, they stink of money and wealth and there aren't any good waves. I don't want to have to drive thirty minutes up the coast to Whistler's Point just to surf."

"Besides that, the local surfers aren't exactly welcoming when we show up at their surf spot," Griffin said. "We're fucked without Croft Beach. Not gonna be the same for any of us who like to be in the water."

We reached the beach. "Shit, the cops are here," Theo said.

"Man, Cru, you're pushing it, bro," I said under my breath.

Griffin stopped the truck and we climbed out. "At least it's Pugsley. If ole dickface Prentiss were on duty, he'd be dancing with joy at the chance to throw cuffs on a Stone. Looks like those same assholes who showed up at the worksite yesterday."

"What gave it away?" I asked. "The fact that their Frankenstein foreheads make their eyes look beady or that they have no necks, just block heads on top of steroid pumped shoulders?"

We reached the scene and got a wave of scowls from Walsh's security. Crusoe and his buddy, Max, were sitting on the sand with their legs crossed as if they were sitting on the kindergarten reading rug. Their hands were cuffed behind their backs. They were both wet and their boards were jammed into the sand nearby. Crusoe peered up sheepishly at us from beneath wet strands of hair.

"Officer Adams," I said with a nod. Adams motioned for us to follow him a few feet away from where the black-draped thugs were standing, four of them with arms as thick as their thighs and expressionless faces behind dark sunglasses.

"Guys, you've got to keep Cru and Max from surfing on this beach. It's closed now. Private property." He added in an eye roll to let us know he disapproved of it too. "These guys are patrolling the sand as if there is some big buried treasure that needs protecting. Oh, and they called their boss. Walsh is on his way." Adams rolled his already thin lips in. "I'm going to have to ask him if he wants to press charges."

"Fuck, can't you let them off with a warning?" Griffin asked.

"That's not my call. Of course, I wouldn't have even cuffed them, but the head of security"—Adams glanced over at the men—"Ivan the terrible, apparently, insisted I cuff them."

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