Drift Away nb-4 Page 9

He gave a terse nod. I released and knew it was coming. He took a step and spun, his arm already cocked to throw a punch. I stepped into him and slammed the heel of my hand into his jaw. He toppled backward over the table and landed at Greg’s feet, blood spilling from his mouth.

  “Don’t let him get up,” I said to Greg. “Or I’ll make sure he can’t get up next time.”

  “No worries, man,” Greg said, glancing at his friend. “I won’t let him up.”

  I looked at Bella. “Let’s go.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  “What the hell was that?”

  “What?”

  Bella smacked her hand on the steering wheel as we drove out of the neighborhood. “You can’t just do that shit with David, alright? He is gonna be furious. You have no idea what he’s capable of.”

  “Relax,” I said.

  “Relax? Are you serious?” She hit the wheel again. “He’s gonna come after me now. Guarantee you they’re calling him right now.”

  “No, they aren’t.”

  “How the hell do you know?”

  “They just want their weed,” I said. “Right now, Paul is trying to piece his face back together. It’ll be awhile before they decide what to do. They’re too scared.”

  She shook her head, exasperated. “You think you know, but you don’t.”

  “You wanna know what I know?” I said.

  “Yeah,” she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm and anger. “Tell me what you know.”

  I stared out the window at the aquamarine water. “I know that I’ve been shot at. I know that I’ve had the shit kicked out of me far worse than what David did. I know that I’ve seen people killed right in front of my eyes. I know that I’ve been in rooms with dealers who do about a hundred times the business David does. I know that I’ve been in jail. And I know what it’s like to kill someone.”

  The car slowed and I could feel her eyes on me, even as I continued to stare at the water in the distance. She pulled over to the curb, but I was still going.

  “So I know a helluva lot more than you do,” I said. “I know a small-time operation that wants to be big-time when I see it. I know arrogant pricks who are too stupid to expand their business when I see them. I know dumb ass college kids who need to sell weed in order to pay the rent and buy beer when I see them.” I swiveled my head toward her. “And I know you asked for my help.”

  She held my gaze for a moment, then dipped her eyes.

  “If you want my help, don’t question me,” I said. “This world you’re in, that seems so scary? It isn’t shit to me. This is a fucking amusement park compared to what I know. It’s not exactly something you put on a resume, but this is my wheelhouse. I am in my fucked up element.” I paused. “So I know what I’m doing. That’s what I know.”

  Cars buzzed by as we sat there in silence. I hadn’t given her details, but I felt like I’d pulled back the curtain. I felt vulnerable and exposed, but also relieved. I was tired of not being me and regardless of how veiled the information was, a small part of me felt good about revealing myself.

  “I’m sorry,” Bella finally said.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “But you have to trust me if you want my help.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said.

  I turned from the water. Her eyes had softened, sympathy etched into the lines in her face, all directed at me.

  “I meant that whatever happened to you,” she said, touching my arm. “Whatever hurt you. Whoever hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  I nodded and turned back to the water. “I’m fine.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  We picked up Jackson at the restaurant and both he and Bella came to the beach with me. I knew she was nervous about going home and I didn’t want to leave her alone, just in case I was wrong about the frat boys going to David. I didn’t think that I was, but I didn’t want to leave it to chance. I couldn’t discount the fact that I’d been out of the game for a few months and my instincts probably weren’t as sharp as they needed to be to make sure she was protected.

  They found a spot a few yards from the shed and settled in as I unpacked chairs and umbrellas. An hour later, I was rented out for the day, the tourists making up for lost time with the poor weather the day before. The sun was brilliant against the blue sky, not a single cloud on the horizon. I locked the shed back up and sat down on the towel next to Bella.

  “He’s making a city,” she said. She lounged on her towel, propped on her elbows, her eyes on Jackson.

  Jackson was covered in sand, scurrying around at light speed, using buckets and spoons to create his imaginary land.

  “Think he’s gonna be an architect,” I said.

  She smiled and nodded. “Maybe so.”

  We sat there in silence, watching him create, letting the sun beat down on us. I knew she was waiting for me to explain and the longer she sat silent, the harder it became to keep it from her. Or maybe I just needed an excuse to let it all out.

  “Her name was Liz,” I said. “And she’s dead.”

  The words didn’t sound right coming out of my mouth and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken her name.

  Bella turned to me, hugged her knees to her chest and didn’t say anything.

  “And it was my fault,” I said. The water blurred in front of me.

  I don’t know how long I talked for or if all of it made sense. Words came out of my mouth in a rush, snagging on my tongue, stinging my lips. I lost sight of the water and Jackson and the sand.

  All I could see was Liz.

  At some point, the words stopped coming and I stopped talking. Things came back into focus and Bella was closer to me, her hand on my arm, tears running down her cheeks. Down mine, too.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry, Noah.”

  I nodded. “Me, too.”

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “There isn’t anything to say,” I said. “I just wanted you to know. I didn’t want you wondering.”

  But I knew the truth was that she’d still be wondering. There were still blanks that needed filling in, even if she didn’t ask. Even if the story made sense, she’d still have questions about me.

  And I knew that my time in Fort Walton was now running out.

  “The guy the other night,” she said. “Is he somehow involved?”

  I glanced at her, surprised. “Not involved, but he knows me. How you’d know?”

  “You were spooked,” she said. “It was pretty obvious.”

  “He surprised me.”

  “Good guy?”

  “No.”

  “So you’re worried.”

  “Worried isn’t the right word. I’m not sure there is a word.”

  We watched Jackson scamper down to the edge of the water and rinse his hands.

  “I shouldn’t have dumped all of my shit on you,” she said. “You have enough going on.”

  “You didn’t dump anything on me.”

  “Yeah, I did. I saw you and saw someone who might be able to help,” she said. “I told you no, but I really wanted your help. And when Jackson took to you…I absolutely wanted your help.” She sighed. “And probably more.”

  “I can help,” I said. “But I can’t give you more. I’m sorry. Has nothing to do with you. I hope you realize that.”

  “I do,” she said. “I didn’t an hour ago, but I do now.” She smiled. “So thank you for telling me. It helps me. I’m sorry it doesn’t help you.”

  I dug my fingers into the sand, lifted up my hand and let the sand fall back to the ground. “It did, I think. I needed to tell someone.” I hesitated. “And I trust you.”

  “Good,” she said, squeezing my arm. “You can. Trust me.”

  For the first time in a long time, I felt like I really could trust someone.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Bella insisted on going home with Jackson by herself. I offered to go with her, but she wouldn’t hear it.

  “I’m not going to live in fear,�
�� she said, throwing the sandy towels into the trunk of her car. “I want out.”

  “Check the house before you take him in,” I said, nodding at Jackson in the backseat. “Just make sure nothing looks weird. Anything is off, drive right back to my house. But I really think it’ll be okay.”

  She took a deep breath. “Right. Okay. And we really need to get you a phone.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t have my name on anything.”

  “Let me worry about it,” she said. She gave me a quick hug and opened the driver’s door. “We might come check on you tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  She slid into the driver’s seat and I watched them turn out of the lot and head up the highway toward the bridge.

  I collected the umbrellas and chairs, locked up the shed and left the stragglers on the beach.

  The breeze picked up as I crossed the highway, providing a little relief from the brutal late day sun. Heat radiated off the asphalt, blurry waves rafting upwards. As I stepped onto the sidewalk and headed for the cul-de-sac, I felt good for the first time in I wasn’t sure how long.

  It felt good to talk about Liz. I didn’t have to lock her away. And I wasn’t paranoid about telling Bella my story, wasn’t worried that it was going to backfire on me. I wasn’t looking at her with the same sideways glance I’d viewed everyone else through for the last few months. It was a relief to let down my guard. I knew it wasn’t permanent, but the temporary respite felt good.

  But as I turned into the cul-de-sac towards the house and saw Zip at the curb, the respite melted away, replaced with paranoia and fear.

  Zip was leaning on a motor scooter, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were fixated on the phone in his hands, his thumbs typing away. He didn’t notice me until I was at the end of the drive.

  “Hey, Noah,” he said, grinning and shoving the phone in the pocket of his shorts. “What’s up?”

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Just came to see what you were up to,” he said, shrugging.

  “Just getting off work,” I said.

  “You weren’t there yesterday,” he said and gestured at my face. “And looks like you had a little accident.”

  “I took the day off. You come looking for me yesterday, too?”

  “Yeah, at the beach.”

  “You need an umbrella or something?”

  He laughed, sucked on the cigarette and exhaled the smoke in a dirty little cloud. “Ha. No. Just checking up on you.”

  “I don’t need to be checked up on, Zip,” I said.

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  “If you want something from me, you need to ask for it,” I said. “I’m done with the small talk.”

  He shrugged again, his eyes widening. “I can’t just check in on an old friend?”

  “We weren’t friends.”

  “Yeah, but here we are, in Florida, neither of us knows anyone else,” he said. “I thought we could hang out.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “You still didn’t tell me what happened to your face,” he said, squinting at me through the cigarette smoke. “You in some kind of trouble?”

  Seagulls flew over our heads, squawking and crying. I watched them pass over the house toward the bay.

  “I’m fine, Zip,” I said.

  “You don’t look like it.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He nodded slowly, then sucked hard on the cigarette, the end glowing red. He pulled it from his mouth, studied me and exhaled. “You talk to Carter lately?”

  I wanted to grab him by the neck and throw him in the bay, but I’d already had too many confrontations in Florida. I was taking my chances every time I made myself noticeable. I needed to stop.

  “No, not lately,” I said.

  “He doing okay?”

  “Like I said. Haven’t talked to him lately.”

  “Heard you two might’ve gotten in a little trouble in Cali,” he said.

  I let that hang in the air for a moment.

  “We were always in trouble,” I said.

  “This sounded different.”

  “Oh, yeah? What did you hear?”

  He finished the cigarette, dropped it to the ground and stepped on it.

  “Probably just bullshit,” he said, smiling as the smoke streamed out of his nostrils. “You know how it goes.”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Just stories and shit, probably.”

  “Probably.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay, cool. I’ll get out of your hair.” He lifted his chin in my direction. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else. About you, Carter, whatever.”

  “You do that.”

  “Peace,” he said, walking past me.

  I watched him head out of the cul-de-sac on the scooter, his phone in one hand. He stared at the screen, typing as he steered. He turned around when he got to the corner, gave me a half-hearted wave.

  I didn’t wave back.

  TWENTY-NINE

  I tried to sleep, but failed.

  Air that felt like it had been cooked in an oven smothered the garage and sweat coated my body. Thoughts of Liz and Carter and Keene and Zip and San Diego ran through my mind like a freight train. Nothing I did could slow it down and I spent the entire night flat on my back, staring at the ceiling.

  It was early when the birds roused, chirping their good morning. I pushed myself off of the cot, rinsed my face, threw on some clothes and headed to the beach.

  Waves crashed in choppy, uneven segments, the wind turning them into unpredictable mush. Two guys were trying to navigate the mess, flailing around on what looked to me like rented long-boards. It had been so long since I’d been in the water, I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to tell them how to get up on their boards, even if I’d been inclined to do so. Instead, I watched them fail, time after time, before they finally gave up, trudging up the beach and to the parking lot, exhausted and frustrated.

  There was a time when I would’ve offered to help, to show them what they were doing wrong or at least told them why the waves were impossible to ride. I was never one of those territorial surfers who reveled in watching people struggle, like I owned the ocean and the right to surf. If people were polite and looked like they just wanted to have fun, I’d go talk to them, help if I could.

  But I just didn’t have a lot of that in me anymore.

  I was unlocking the shed when Ike wandered down to the sand, holding up a hand in greeting.

  “What the hell happened to you?” he said, squinting at my face.

  “Nothing.”

  “Looks like some kind of nothing.”

  “I’m fine. And I’m sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. Won’t happen again.”

  He frowned and waved off the apology. “Please, kid. You’re fine. The weather sucked anyway and you’re the most reliable employee I’ve ever had. One day ain’t gonna kill us.”

  “Still. Sorry.”

  “Whatever,” he said, still frowning. “But, hey. I did wanna talk to you about yesterday.” Concern shimmered in his eyes. “Dude came looking for you.”

  I nodded. “Skinny little dude? Looks like a crackhead who hasn’t showered in weeks? Don’t worry about it. I got him covered.”

  Ike shook his head. “No. That ain’t who I talked to.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “This guy was well put together,” Ike said. “I’d put him around your age. Good lookin’, not that I go that way, but you know what I’m sayin’. Dark hair, tan, almost as big as you. Asked for you by name.”

  The muscles in my gut clenched.

  “I played dumb at first, but he knew I was full of shit,” he said. “So then I just said I hadn’t seen you in awhile. Tried to get a name or number out of him, but he just said he’d come back.”

  I shuffled my feet in the sand. “Okay.”

  “He didn’t seem pissed or nothin’,” Ike said, pulling the sunglasses on t
he cord around his neck up onto his face. “But he was definitely looking for you. And I don’t think he’s going away.”

  I ran Ike’s physical description through my memory banks, but came up empty. I was drawing a blank.

  “Okay,” I said. “Thanks for the heads up.”

  “You need help,” Ike said, nodding at me. “You holler at me. Any kind at all. You holler at me. Got it?”

  “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “And you need a different place to stay, I’ll work it out,” he said. “Just let me know.”

  “I’m good,” I said. “But thanks. I’ll let you know if it changes.”

  As Ike disappeared over the sand dunes, I was anything but good.

  THIRTY

  I spent the entire morning looking over my shoulder.

  Anytime someone came up the shoreline or I heard footsteps in the sand behind me, I scanned their faces, trying to see if anyone looked familiar. I’m not sure who I thought I might see or who might show up, but after my conversations with Zip and Ike, I was anxious and on alert.

  Bella and Jackson showed up after lunch, towels and a bag of beach toys in hand. Jackson ran straight to the water and Bella stripped out of her white sundress, revealing a matching white bikini. She sank down on her towel, reached into her bag and handed me a small cell phone. “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Certainly, you haven’t been out of the loop for, like, twenty years, have you?”

  “Funny. Why are you giving me a phone?”

  “Because you need one,” she said.

  A soaking wet Jackson had returned and started his castle building operation.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s one of those pre-paid deals.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know.”

  “Why do I need a phone?”

  “So I can call you,” she said, adjusting the big white sunglasses on her face. “Or you can call me. Or anyone else you need to. It’s pre-paid so your name won’t show up anywhere. If someone, somehow, wanted to trace it, it would come back to me anyway.”