Let’s just say the lights are on, but no one’s home, if you know what I mean.
“Christ, I had him out front of the pub, slathering on a fresh coat a paint to cover up that graffiti, and he acted like I was beatin’ him with a switch. Fuckin’ kid doesn’t know how lucky he has it sometimes, I swear. Kid doesn’t even know half the shit I had to go through as punishment, when I was his age.”
“Punishment?” I ask. Then, because I want to know if he suspects Colt, I tack on, “Was Taryn the one that spray-painted the place?”
Gordy gives me a sardonic roll of his eyes. “What? Do I look dumber than a box of rocks to you? No, of course he didn’t do it.”
“Then why is ithispunishment?”
“Because I know who did, and I know why he did it,” he says cryptically. “And I know my son was the one who instigated it all. It ain’t right, and Taryn needs to atone for his actions, even though he didn’tactuallyvandalize the place.”
“I see…” I hum, though I don’t. Not really, anyway.
“Do you now?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“Look, Gordy,” I sigh, the insinuation being clear as day. “I don’t really want to get into it here with you. I can pay you back for what Colt did, but I’m hanging on by a thread with him.”
“I don’t want your money. Like I said, Taryn fucked up. I don’t need him walking the same path I did. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences.”
I snort, tipping back the glass and downing the rest of my drink. “That’s real cute, coming from you, Masterson,” I huff.
His lips thin into a line, as he rolls them between his teeth. He taps the bartop again, and as he walks away, he says over his shoulder, “People change, Waters. You can’t know how much people hurt just by looking at ‘em. They’re like glaciers, where only the tip of the iceberg sits above the water. There’s so much below the surface. Sometimes, they get help and learn from their mistakes.”
Chapter Eight
About a dozen kids stop playing capture the flag and gawk at me like I’m some kind of badass, superhuman creature when I roll back into camp on my Harley. However, one set in particular, Colton’s, rolls so hard that I worry they will fall right out of his skull, down to the lake, and start bobbing in the shallows. He likes to claim I show off my ‘hypermasculinity’ by riding my bike, but honestly, it’s a gorgeous day out. It felt freeing to get away from Ternbay, the wind whipping my hair around as I cruised down the scenic backroads to get back here to Alder Notch.
Further up the driveway, Brooks and Kai are hunched over Brooks’ open engine compartment—once again, indicative of his car having more issues. It’s not that sight that grinds my gears though, it’s the way Kai’s arm is resting across Brooks’ back, almost possessively so. My jaw clenches.
It’s a sight that shouldn’t bother me. Brooks isn’t my romantic interest; he’s my boss. But something in me, some part of me that knowsthese two shared some sort of past—maybe even a present—and it grates on me. So much so, that I may be acting a little childish when I twist the throttle, giving it a loud rev, jumping the two of them. Kai nearly bashes the back of his perfectly styled head off the open hood.
The act served its purpose though, because Kai drops his hand when he turns around, lowers his Ray-Ban’s, and scowls at me briefly, right before the perturbation turns into a wolfish grin. Brooks spins, eyes as wide as saucers, as he notes my bike. I don’t miss the way he bites at his lower lip a little, before turning back to press ‘play’ on the troubleshooting video he must have up on his phone again.
Fool is going to cost himself more in the long run if he keeps trying to diagnose it himself. He’s got me now, at least. Looks like I swooped in at just the right time to save the day again.
“Something else wrong with it?” I ask Brooks, sauntering up and peering under the hood with him.
“Same issue as before; not turning over,” Brooks groans. “I don’t get it; it worked fine all day yesterday.”
Kai scoffs. “Worked fine? The junker rattled the entire way into town last night. I’m pretty sure I saw the ghost of mytutu wahinepoint and laugh at me from her Buick. Hasn’t turned over since. I knew it was on its deathbed.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. The ghost of your grandmother did not visit you. Get real,” Brooks laments.
“Skeptic,” Kai snarks. “Ghosts exist…”
“So do hallucinogens,” Brooks replies dryly.
“Sure it wasn’t the operator?” I quirk an eyebrow up at Kai, trying to diffuse their bickering by inciting some of my own. “If you’re so embarrassed by Brooks’ car, why didn’t you just use your own?”
He snorts. “Need to charge it, and there isn’t a charging station anywhere near this podunk township.”
I roll my eyes and cross over to the driver’s side, folding myself in to try to start it myself. As soon as I put my hand on the key, I see what the issue is, without even trying the ignition. The key is in accessory mode, and nothing’s on. No interior lights, no radio, nothing.
“Battery is dead,” I grunt at Brooks. “Any chancesomeonecould have not turned the key all the way back and left all the electronics on in here all night? Someone who might be too used to newer, flashier vehicles?” I give Kai a pointed look.
“‘Uha!” Kai curses something, probably in Hawaiian again. He spins to Brooks, and, for what it's worth, does give him a genuinely apologetic look. “Babe, I will go get you a new battery. I’ll just”—he peers back at me, blinking his stupid, doe eyes rapidly—“see if I can get a ride on the back of this dashing man’s very sexy-looking motorcycle.”
Babe.That makes me grind my molars.
