33. P.P.D
Chapter 33
P.P.D
Rafe
I forgot that nicotine withdrawal was a bitch and a half.
I’ve been itching to see Bonnie all morning since she left, like a new addiction I need a hit of. Maybe it’s wrong that I’m replacing smoking with her, but if I had to pick one vice, I’d rather it be a cute redhead with a laugh like sunshine.
I walk into the park, gnawing on my second stick of nicotine gum this morning and eyeballing the large crowd milling about, filled with not only locals, but Bonnie’s whole family, including their partners and kids.
It’s just a party , I tell myself, and I’m just a Never Harbor resident coming to celebrate .
But it feels like more than that now. I want to make a good impression.
My hands twitch around a small gift. It’s not anything over the top—just a small canvas painting of a tiny blue bird. I think Wendy likes birds, and I assume babies do too. I’m honestly not sure if I should have put that much thought into this. Is it presumptuous? Is it weird Bonnie’s boss made this? Is that all we are anyway?
I’m prepared, and I guess that’s all that matters.
What I’m not prepared for is an ambush by Bonnie’s brothers the moment I walk into the park.
Peter, Jasper, and Cassidy stride toward me. Peter is first with his long legs making headway through the park, Cassidy follows behind with tense muscles like the tank that he is, and Jasper makes up the rear with his eyebrows pulled inward and a distinct frown peeking through his thick beard. It isn’t until they get closer that I realize it’s only Peter glaring at me with fire in his eyes. Jasper and Cassidy are more focused on their brother.
“What the hell did you do with my sister, Rafe?” Peter spits out.
Christ almighty.
Peter picked the wrong day to mess with me. It’s been hours without a cigarette, and I am not in the mood. I’m trying to be someone Bonnie’s family might approve of one day—or at least, won’t hate. And Dickbag Davies isn’t letting me exist for five fucking seconds .
“Pete, calm down,” Jasper says.
“Calm down?” Peter’s eyes widen. “We’re seriously gonna be okay with a guy—what— eight years older than our twenty-one-year-old sister?”
My stomach drops.
“She’s an adult,” Jasper says.
Peter scowls, pacing ever closer. “And he’s her fucking boss .”
Then, it all happens so fast.
Peter swings to punch. I’ve brawled enough, growing up in Mourning. My instinct is to dodge and punch back. I drop the gift in my hand while Peter misses me. And unfortunately, my subsequent punch lands.
Peter’s head jerks to the side with a crack!
“Oh my God,” Bonnie yells, her hand whipping to her open mouth.
I shake out my fist, the knuckles now dotted with her brother’s blood.
What. The. Fuck?
Peter stumbles back. Jasper catches him. Within seconds, Peter’s already back on his feet and moving toward me. Cassidy grabs Peter and pins his arms behind his back. Peter tries to move forward, but there’s no beating Cass’s strength.
The world tilts.
I just punched Bonnie’s brother in front of their entire family. In front of the town .
From the corner of my eye, I see my Little Red running the rest of the way to me, stepping between me and her brothers with her own look of defiance.
“What the fuck, Pete?” Bonnie asks.
“He punched me!” Peter says, holding his palm out to me.
“You swung first,” Bonnie argues, raising her hands above her head in a you damn idiot kind of way.
She turns to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Shiv,” I start, but Peter barks out a condescending laugh, spitting out blood from his mouth.
“Shiv?” he sneers. “That’s not even her name.”
“Technically, it is,” I say.
Now it’s Izzy walking over. More eyes on me.
Shit.
“What is going on?!” she asks, looking from the band of brothers, then to me, guarded by a tiny redhead with something to prove.
Peter whips his head to Izzy. “Did you know about this?”
“About …”
I’ll give her credit—Izzy’s almost convincing when she sarcastically asks the question, as if it’s Peter being the ridiculous one. Which, to some degree, he is. He shouldn’t have tried to punch me. What are we, teenagers?
Then again … Bonnie is his sister. And, yes, we are eight years apart. And, yes, I am her boss.
Christ, I’m her boss .
At what point did I lose that thread in my mind?
My stomach starts to curdle.
Peter tongues his cheek and shakes his head at Izzy. “You knew , didn’t you?”
“Hey, don’t be a dick,” I snap over.
“Shut up, Rafe,” Izzy says. “Don’t kick him while he’s down.”
“Can we all just”—Cassidy holds up his palms and laughs—“calm down? For a sec? This is our future sister-in-law’s baby shower .” Cassidy, ever the peacemaker.
Bonnie closes her eyes in frustration. “What is even going on?”
“Charles told us you were at an art festival together yesterday,” Jasper explains calmly.
“And is that a crime?” Bonnie asks.
“His friend was there,” Cassidy continues. “And apparently, you two were … I don’t know?—”
“Being incredibly inappropriate,” Peter finishes, grinding his jaw. “Forcing her to … God, she’s your employee, Rafe. She should be having an internship—not spending a summer with a boss taking advantage of her.”
“Advantage of me?” Bonnie gawks. “He’s not taking advantage. I’m an adult. I know what I’m doing.”
A hush falls over our area of the park, which is quickly drawing in too many people. Her brothers stare at me. Jasper’s eyebrows tilt inward. Peter glares like he’s just been betrayed beyond all reason.
I wish I could fucking die.
“So, it’s true?” Peter asks.
Bonnie’s cheeks turn pink. “Who told?”
“Some dude who sells ducks,” Jasper says, throwing his hands in the air in exhaustion. “I don’t know.”
“You’re not gonna keep messing with my sister, understand?” Peter says to me matter-of-factly, poking his finger at my chest. His teeth are lined in blood now. He looks demented.
Izzy groans, almost guttural in her chest. “Let’s simmer down, Pete.”
“I’m simmered.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not. Because Rafe Cohen over here thinks it’s fine to hire someone just to take advantage of?—”
Finally, Marina, with her giant pregnant belly, waddles over to us with her hands up in the air, forming a T. “Time out!” she calls. “Time out! C’mon, people! Are we serious with this?”
The appearance of Wendy next seems to put everyone’s head on a bit straighter. Two pregnant women in a circle. Kinda hard to make any moves.
“What is going on?!” Wendy demands. “Why does Peter have another black eye—God, Pete—and … wait, why in the world is Lulu sleeping at that table?”
Bonnie’s eyes dart to her best friend. Lulu is groaning on an unattended round table. Her long hair is spilled over the top like an emptied ink bottle. A Solo cup is toppled over beside her.
“Oh my God, Lu,” Bonnie breathes.
She runs over, wraps an arm around Lulu’s shoulders, and walks her back over. Though walking is a light term. Her feet kinda … drag .
“Kind of a lush, isn’t she?” some woman asks beside Milo. Her nose is upturned.
“Shut up, Harriett,” Bonnie snaps.
Lulu snorts. “Yeah, shut up.”
“It’s a Sunday afternoon ,” she says, exaggerating the word afternoon like she’s some stereotypically snobby British royal.
I don’t need to see anything else to know I don’t like her. And when Bonnie groans out loud, I’m determined to never like her. My woman knows best.
“This isn’t funny,” Milo says.
I can tell he’s trying to hide his disapproval, but it doesn’t go over well. The woman—Harriett—lets her mouth hang open in offense as Milo reaches for Lulu’s chin and tips it up.
“You okay, Lu?”
Lulu rips her face from his fingers. “Go away.” It’s a childish whine, like a toddler who needs nap time. She’s done.
I move Lulu’s arm from Bonnie’s shoulders to mine. Bending down, I dip my arm under Lulu’s knees and heft her into my arms.
Milo exhales and tilts his head to the side. Harriett storms off. He reluctantly follows.
Peter’s still cradling his jaw.
“I’ll never like you, Rafe,” he says, like it’s some type of threat. “Bonnie can have her fun, rebellious internship. But as her boss, you should be ashamed.”
Those words hit like a sledgehammer.
I straighten my posture and grind my teeth. “Maybe if you grew up, you could go one month without making your best friend cry. I don’t like you, but maybe then I’d at least respect you.”
His eyes widen. “I … what ?”
Izzy shakes her head at me, eyebrows furrowed together in betrayal. She’s pissed, but Peter needed to know.
“All right, we’re done here!” Marina says, her hands in the air. “Break it up. Everyone. Chop-chop. Wendy’s preggo. I’m preggo. And one of us is gonna pop at any second. Spoiler alert: it’s me. Don’t induce my labor sooner than it needs to be.”
“You tell ’em, honey,” Cassidy says, clapping his hands. “Let’s go. Nothing to see here!”
Peter’s eyebrows tilt in as he stares at Izzy. “I made you cry?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she murmurs, walking off.
He reaches out for her like some dramatic Renaissance painting.
Jasper pushes his arm down. “We’re done here.”
Wendy sighs. “God, why is it always you, Pete?”
“Who else would it be?” Cassidy asks on a laugh. “It’s like an annual event now. Punch Peter Day!”
Marina laughs with her husband. “Come one, come all!”
Lulu giggles uncontrollably in my arms.
“Can we leave?” Bonnie asks me.
I look at the rest of the party. The entirety of Never Harbor stares back with furrowed brows.
It isn’t Pete they’re concerned with. It’s me.
The boss who slept with his employee.
A bad guy. Just like my old man.
“Rafe?” Bonnie asks.
I shake my head and focus again on the situation at hand.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I mutter. “Where’s your Jeep?”
“Lulu drove.”
“Well, she sure isn’t driving now.”
“I have a Beemer,” Lulu slurs.
Five minutes later and one block of heaving Lulu in my arms with Bonnie by my side, the three of us cram into Lulu’s two-seater BMW. I crank the engine.
Lulu gives a half-assed, “ Woo. ”
“Are you okay?” Bonnie whispers to me, arms around Lulu pretzeled in her lap.
“Are you?” I counter.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Then, I will too.”
Switching gears, I rip from the parking lot and barrel down the winding road, away from Never Harbor and toward their seaside cottage.