Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
With everything in me, I want to go to dinner tonight, but I can’t. I can’t sit around a table with the people who know me the best, even though they don’t think they do, and pretend that I don’t have this huge fire roaring behind me, ignoring it.
The only thing I can do is walk the beach and try to forget what was going on in that moment. So, that’s what I do, as I try to brainstorm how to get the rest of the money. To get away from the Williams for good. But I kept coming up empty.
Getting the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from the sale of the shop will put a dent in what they want, but not close, not even a bit.
I can’t live unhappily, I know I could go back to Molly, profess my love and apologize, all lies, and she’d take me back. But I can’t.
The thought of getting a loan for over a million doesn’t sound feasible, especially for someone like me who doesn’t have collateral. I feel stuck, because I am. Stuck and alone in all this, carrying a burden I won’t let others carry.
Checking my phone, it’s barely ten p.m. and I need a drink.
Walking my way back to town, I head straight to Pirate’s Hideaway, in need of something strong.
Saddling up to the bar, I spot the bartender from the night I ran into August here. He smiles at me, immediately recognizing me.
“One Jack and Coke and a shot of tequila, whatever is your bottom shelf.” Knowing the cheaper shit will screw me up faster.
Sliding me my shot, I catch it, barely spilling the liquid, and immediately shoot it back. The burning traveling down my throat makes me hiss a breath out, slamming down the small glass. Raising my index finger to let him know I want one more.
“You can’t run out any of my customers tonight,” he tells me before handing me my glass of Jack and Coke.
Raising the glass to him, I say, “Promise.” I take a huge sip; the Coke not doing a good enough job hiding the Jack.
“Here.” I’m slid another shot, but this time, the bartender raises his own shot glass. Nodding my head, I salute him before we both take them. Slamming the glasses on the bar. “My name is Cal. If you need anything, call for me.” He throws his rag over his shoulder, walking to the end of the bar.
I sit there for a while before getting Cal’s attention. “Let me get a bucket of Bud Light, and I’m going to move to the back booth.”
“Got you.”
I can feel the two shots of tequila flowing through my veins as I walk to the back of the bar. The corner is dark and away from everyone else, which is what I need.
The alcohol flows through me, taking my critical thinking.
My fingers itch to text a long paragraph professing everything and revealing it all.
From Molly to the Williams and my family.
The weight that is on my shoulders and the fear I’ve been dealing with since.
But I don’t. This isn’t August’s to carry. This is mine and only mine.
Three beers down, I say fuck it and text August, but her reply is exactly what I knew would come. And her telling me not to message her anymore, that stung.
I start to type, then delete and start typing again.
I miss us.
Delete, I can’t send that. I won’t send that. I power my phone off, hoping that will divert my alcohol-induced mind.
Head leaned back on the fake-leather booth.
I looked at the fishing net cast over the entire ceiling of the bar, buoys hanging from it.
I try to count them, but keep messing up, forgetting what number I was on before my eyes start to get heavy.
Forcing myself back up, shaking my head, I pull out another beer, even though I know I don’t need it.
The bar is quiet; the crowd has thinned out. Forcing myself out of the booth and to the bathroom, I sway as I piss, but thankfully still make it into the urinal. Trying to keep my stream focused on the deodorizer puck.
Shaking myself off, zipping up and quickly washing my hands, I take a glance at myself before opening the door.
My hair is in a mussed mess, my eyes red, looking like I’ve been up for days.
“You got to get it together,” I mumble to the reflection.
Stepping out into the hallway, I stop seeing two people standing at the end, the way I need to exit.
Immediately, I recognize the stance and build: Molly’s dad, Todd Williams. My eyebrows shoot to my hairline before I step back into the doorway, not letting it close all the way. Confused because he wouldn’t be caught dead in this type of place, especially at this time of night.
“I gave you this bar; what more do you want?” I hear Todd’s voice, spitting out the words.
I can’t make out what the other voice is saying, but I immediately know it’s Cal’s by the accent.
“Don’t fuck with me, Calvin.” Todd billows.
I hear the soft music from the hallway filtering in; peeking my head out, I see Cal staring right at me, pulling his lip ring into his mouth and biting on it.
Caught, I make my way out. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt.” I play it off like I couldn’t care less what was going on, but that’s far from the truth. My interest is piqued.
I walk by Cal and out to the bar, looking for Todd, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
I fall into my booth, pushing the bucket of beer away, knowing I can’t drink the last two that are left.
It looks like I’m the last person here. I watch Cal as he cleans off the bar, picking up glasses and wiping it down.
My mind is spinning as to how he knows Todd and why Todd would give him a bar.
I’ve only seen Cal a few times around town; he stays to himself, so there isn’t much known about him. Just that he became the new owner of Pirate's Hideaway a few months back.
Placing my half-empty beer bottle in the bucket, I take it to the bar so I can cash out.
Standing in front of him, his face looks pissed. “Let me cash out,” I tell him.
He shakes his head, but says nothing, as he slides me my tab.
I look at him, really look at him for the first time when my eyes move to the mole next to his lip, the same one as Todd's. The one I’d stare at so many times as he blew smoke up my ass. “Holy hell.” I mutter.
Cal looks at me, thinking I’m speaking of the amount I owe. Furrowing my brows, “Where you from, Cal?” I ask nonchalantly.
“New York, but I needed a change of scenery and decided to come here.” He takes my bucket of beer, tossing them in the trash. “Hey, you didn’t finish these.” He holds up the two untouched ones.
“Couldn’t.” I pull out my debit card. “Driftwood Bay out of all the places.” I laugh, trying to not make myself sound like I’m searching.
“No alcohol left behind,” Cal hands me one of the beers as he takes the other. “To deadbeat fathers.” He slams the beer before throwing it in the trash; it clinks with the rest of the bottles. I stand there, dumbfounded. Tentatively taking a sip.
“That was your dad?” I ask him, trying to sound uninterested.
“Do you know Todd?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.
“No, just seen him here and there,” I lie.
Cal laughs and leans his elbows on the bar. “You have to love it when rich people like to keep their dirty little secrets a secret.”
I feign uninterest. But my head is spinning with this information.
“I feel that,” I tell him, even though I have no clue what it feels like.
He looks at me, seeing a friend in combat.
Thinking we battle the same life. “Mine doesn’t even glance at me.
” I shrug my shoulders, showing indifference, taking a sip of the beer I’m still holding, wanting more information.
“Some men need to realize you never fuck the help,” Cal spits out.
I widen my eyes, “That they do.”
Cal pushes off the bar, stretching his arms out.
“This is my keep your mouth shut gift from dear old dad. He couldn’t let anyone in this town know his secret, especially his wife and perfect daughter.
” I see the hate oozing off him, knowing he’s been wanting to say these words to someone for a while.
“Well, if it’s any consideration, it’s a damn good bar.”
“I sometimes don’t know if it’s worth it. I really want to blow everything of his up,” he tells me honestly, flicking his lip ring.
Sliding him my beer bottle, “Cal, I hope I continue to see you around.” I nod to him and exit the bar. The cool night air hits me as soon as I realize the power I hold with this secret. I smile to myself, a new feeling leaking from me on my way to the bed-and-breakfast. Power.
I moan awake, my head already protesting before I can even open my eyes. All the alcohol is making me regret it. But as soon as I open my eyes, the flood of last night rushes back, of the information I hold.
Pushing myself off the bed, I lumber to the shower, undressing from last night's clothing and jumping in before the water can heat. “Damn it.” I hiss, but the sharp bits of cold help me wake up and take my thoughts from my headache.
My mind races; the best way I can use this information.
I’m not one to hold something over someone's head, but when it comes to my family, I will.
The Williamses have molded me into this person now.
I can do with this what I see fit. Helping my family out in the process.
I hurriedly wash my hair and body; my dick shriveled from the cold.
I jump out, not stopping, feeling like I have a ticking time-bomb on me… and really, I do.
I don’t even pay attention to what I’m putting on, my eyes only on the prize of freedom for my parents.
Until I get to the bedroom door, looking down and realizing I put on my bright orange swim shorts.
Tripping as I take them off, I pull on some regular blue boating shorts and scurry out of the room.
My whole body buzzes and the only place I want to go to is home…to the marina, but instead, I go straight to Kai’s, needing him to finally know everything.
I feel like I get there in no time, my mind spinning with every scenario.
Walking through the picket fence, I knock on their door and wait.