Chapter 31
You’re not under arrest? Why not?
Sophia
“I ’m here!” Chloe shouts as she rushes into the police station.
“What are you doing here?”
She rolls her eyes. “Duh. I’m here to spring you.”
I motion to the waiting room. “No need to spring me. I’m not under arrest.”
She plops down on the chair next to me. “You’re not? How disappointing.”
“You can blame your man. He’s the one who wouldn’t arrest me.”
Her brow wrinkles. “My man? I don’t have a man.”
I elbow her. “But you want one.” I point to Lucas marching our way.
She scowls. “I am not interested in a man who doesn’t want me. Unlike some people, I’m not interested in harboring a crush on a man who didn’t notice me for a decade.”
I shrug and feign nonchalance at the sting her words cause. “Maybe he’ll be worth the wait.”
“Nope. Not interested in getting cobwebs in my—”
I slap a hand over her mouth as Lucas reaches us. I grin up at him. “Better behave. The po po is here.”
“You’re free to go.”
“I know. I’m waiting on Flynn.”
He rests his hands on his utility belt and rocks back on his heels. “They could be a while.”
“No worries. I don’t mind waiting.”
“Um…”
Chloe clears her throat. “What he’s trying to say is it might be a while before Flynn is available and you should go on home.”
Lucas scowls at her.
“What? Am I wrong?”
“You want me to leave?” He nods, and I stand. “I’ll leave, but you need to promise me Weston won’t kill Flynn.”
“I’d be more worried about Flynn killing Weston if I were you.”
I frown. Between Flynn and Weston, Weston’s the instigator. “If Flynn is mad at Weston, there’s a reason. Maybe I should wait. Flynn might need bail money.”
Lucas steers me toward the exit. “I’ll make sure the two behave.”
“What’s your definition of behave? Does it include bloodshed? Bruises? What?”
He chuckles as he opens the door and herds me outside. “No one will land in the hospital,” he says and shuts the door.
“I’m not feeling very confident in your definition of behave,” I shout through the door at him.
He plants his hands on his hips and nods to Chloe’s car. Chloe grasps my arm and tugs me toward it.
“Come on. Let the men play their games.”
“How did you know I was at the police station?” I ask once we’re settled in Chloe’s car and driving toward Flynn’s house.
“Lucas rang.”
“I really, really want to tease you about the whole Lucas thing, but I’m too worried about Flynn.”
I chew on my thumbnail. How bad is it? Will Weston deck Flynn? Will Flynn punch Weston? Will Weston convince Flynn to leave me?
Chloe tugs my thumb away from my mouth. “There’s nothing to worry about. Flynn loves you. Weston loves you. They know fighting will hurt you.”
“Flynn doesn’t love me.”
I wish he did. Because my heart is total goner for the man.
She barks out a laugh. “You’re cute.”
I open my mouth to argue with her – she doesn’t know Flynn the way I do – but I snap it closed again. Now is not the time to worry about love. Now is the time to worry about how good the urgent care on the island is.
“Do you want me to come inside?” Chloe asks as she stops in front of Flynn’s house. “I can keep you company until Flynn gets home.”
Good idea but I don’t want her to witness what happens when Flynn comes home. Will he be hurt? Will he be mad at Weston? Will he dump me? Or will he finally fight for me?
My thumb stings and I realize I’ve bitten off my nail and it’s bleeding.
“Thanks, but I’ll be okay on my own.”
“Liar,” Chloe mutters but she doesn’t push me further.
I climb out of the car and wave as she drives away before trudging into the house. Let the waiting begin.
I stretch my arms above my head and my blanket falls down. Blanket? I don’t remember a blanket. I force my eyes open and notice I’m in my bed in my room.
But I have no recollection of how I got here. The last thing I remember is sitting on the couch watching some silly 80s movie while I waited for Flynn to come home.
Flynn.
I stretch out my arm but the rest of the bed is empty. It’s also cold. And pristine. No one slept here last night. What the hell?
I roll out of bed. I’m still in the clothes I wore last night.
“Flynn!”
When he doesn’t answer, I go in search of him. He’s not in his bedroom, although his bed has clearly been slept in. I frown. Why did he sleep in here? Away from me?
Doubts start to creep in. Did Weston convince Flynn to dump me? Damn, my big brother. He’s not my keeper.
I search the entire house, but Flynn is nowhere to be found. He’s not in the kitchen. He’s not in any of the bathrooms. He’s not hiding in the pantry. He’s not even in the creepy basement I’m never going into again.
Where are you?
I drum my fingers on the kitchen counter as I wait for Flynn to answer. But he doesn’t. He’s a construction worker, Sophia . Maybe he can’t answer his phone because he’s climbing some scary scaffolding. Never mind his current project doesn’t require scaffolding.
I check my phone for the hundredth time and realize I’m going to be late for work. I’m putting this crisis on hold until tonight.
It’s drunk poker night. Flynn can’t avoid me much longer.
I spend the day checking my phone for a response from Flynn and avoiding answering questions from my girlfriends. Who said working with your friends is a good idea? It’s not. Nosey women.
By the time I make it home to change for the evening, my head is aching and I’m considering skipping drunk poker altogether. But Flynn isn’t here. And he hasn’t answered my texts.
Yes, texts. I couldn’t leave it at one text. Nope. I’ve become a little girl desperate for his attention once again.
Drunk poker night it is.
When I arrive at my parents’ house, all my girlfriends are already there.
“You owe me twenty dollars.” Chloe holds out her hand to Nova who slaps a twenty-dollar bill in her palm.
“Are you okay, Sophia?” Maya asks.
My mom bustles into the living room before I can answer, which is a good thing because I don’t have an answer. No, I’m not okay. I think the man I love is ghosting me while I’m living in his house aren’t words I want to speak when my parents and brother are in attendance.
Speaking of Weston? Where is the asshole? I glance around the room but he’s not here.
“Weston isn’t coming,” Mom says.
I rear back. “Since when is he allowed to miss out on poker night?”
She rolls her eyes. “Since he and your father decided they needed a boys’ night out.”
“A boy’s night out on poker night? I’m surprised you allowed this.”
She smiles. “I thought it would be nice to have a girls’ night in.”
My stomach dips. Except I’m not frightened of the next loop in the rollercoaster at Mermaid Mystical Gardens. I can handle the rollercoaster. I’m not certain I can handle what I fear is happening here.
“Girls’ night in? Isn’t Flynn coming tonight?”
Mom pats my hand. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. He has a birthday party for one of his employees tonight.”
A birthday party for one of his employees? Flynn is famous for showing up at those birthday parties and leaving after one slice of cake. He could easily attend a birthday party and drunk poker on the same night. If he wanted to.
It’s official. Flynn is ghosting me.
“Don’t worry,” Mom says. “We don’t need the men to have fun.”
“That’s what she said,” Chloe mutters.
“I only said it the one time. When I was in college and experimenting,” Mom quips.
I groan. “I am not spending the evening listening to you regale us with your sexual exploits in college.”
She grins. “I guess it’s poker time then.”
She ushers us to the poker table, which I notice is set for six people. Any hope I had of Flynn showing up late evaporates.
What happened? Why is Flynn ghosting me? Did Weston order him to stay away from me? Even if my big brother did, why is Flynn listening to him? He knew Weston wouldn’t be happy we’re together. Why the change of heart now? Why isn’t he fighting for me?
Flynn obviously doesn’t have the strong feelings for me that I have for him. And here I thought the strings tethering us together were strong and reciprocal.
Paisley places a shot glass in my hand. “I’ll drive you home if necessary.”
I’m shocked by her words. Her big brain is usually working overtime on some experiment which prevents her from realizing what’s happening in the real world. If Paisley noticed I’m suffering, it must be obvious.
Shit. I’m not ready for the round of questions from my friends. I force a smile on my face. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
Mom lifts her shot glass in the air. “To smugglers, bootleggers, rumrunners, and the mermaids who loved them!”
“Mermaids!” My friends yell in response.
I scowl. I will not be some mermaid who waits for her man to return from the sea. I’m not letting Flynn ghost me as if what we had was nothing.
Be ready for a wake-up call, pirate man.