The Fear That Divides Us (The Devil's Dust #3)

“Your dad sounds like he was a good man,” Jessica murmurs, ignoring the fact that I chose to take her out on a boat.

“Yeah, something like that,” I laugh half-heartedly. My father was actually kind of a brute behind my mother’s back, but a gentleman in front of her. I learned everything I know about women from my dad. He was a ladies’ man back in his day before he met my mom.

“Was he in the Devil’s Dust?” Jessica questions, rolling on her back to look up at the stars. My eyes trail along her naked frame, the moonlight glistening off the sweat beaded between her tits.

“No, he was a firefighter,” I tell her.

“What about your mother?” Jessica continues to ask.

“My mother was the type of woman to always help the community, churches, schools, you name it. She was a saint,” I reply, thinking about my mother and how much of a kind woman she was. “My parents were great. I got into trouble growing up based purely on liking trouble. I don’t have some crazy reason or fucked-up past to justify why I am the way I am, or why I like to cause havoc at times. I just enjoyed it mostly, well, I enjoy it still,” I laugh, making Jessica giggles.

“Whenever I got thrown in jail or juvie as a kid, my dad would pick me up and take me home when I was allowed out. When I walked in the door, my mom would smack me in the back of the head and give me a plate of warm food. They never paid my bail or pleaded for early release; they made me do the time for my crime, but they never judged me. They were just there for me as I paid the price for liking trouble,” I inform, smiling from the memories.

“They sound great, Bobby. I’m sorry you lost them,” Jessica whispers.

“Yeah, me too,” I mumble. Thunder sounds from clouds further at sea, moving toward us. The wind picking up as it heads in our direction.

“What about your parents?” I ask. Jessica sighs, pulling her hair out from her neck.

“My dad is the kind of guy who knows everything and everyone; has connections everywhere. His main goal in life is to be successful, and will do nothing less than exceed what is expected of him,” she informs, her lips pursed.

“He sounds like a tool,” I reply honestly.

“He is,” she laughs.

“Your mom?” I question, wondering if she is the bitch to go with the tool.

“She is actually pretty cool when she wants to be. She’s the only one I talk to anymore,” she whispers, frowning. I knew she only talked to her mom, but she’s never said why she doesn’t speak to her dad.

“Why is that?”

Jessica inhales a deep breath, and shakes her head. “For one, I am not a brain surgeon like my father wanted me to be, and I am not married to some bigwig who’s living life in the limelight so he can be praised for his outstanding parental guidance,” she explains. “I am not what he wants in a daughter, and to be honest, he is not what I want in a father,” she continues, shrugging.

“He knew I was living in hell with Travis, but he looked the other away. All he wanted was to be on the board of Travis’s family’s hospital,” Jessica mutters, making my head whip in her direction.

“You want me to beat his ass?” I ask seriously. Jessica’s frown turns into a fit of laughter, relaxing my frown and joining in.

“I think I’m good,” she whispers, gazing up at the clouded sky that suddenly strikes with lightning.

“We better get this back to the dock,” I suggest, grabbing my shirt from behind her head. I pull my button-up shirt on but leave it unbuttoned. Grabbing my jeans and boxers, I pull them on as Jessica dresses. I lean over and kiss her forehead as I head to the steering wheel.

Driving back to the dock, I watch Jessica. She’s sitting up at the front, watching the waves, her hair blowing in the wind.

I park the boat and place the key back where I found it. Climbing off and securing it to a dock post, I reach for Jessica’s hand, helping her off.

“That was amazing, Bobby. I can’t believe you rented a boat,” Jessica remarks, admiring the craft swaying back and forth in the waves.

“Get the fuck away from my boat before I call the cops!”

Jessica and I both look toward the shore, finding an older man raising a fist and running on the dock toward us pissed.

“Um, Bobby,” Jessica starts, turning to eye me warily.

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t rent the boat. Run!” I yell, pressing on the small of her back. Jessica grabs her shoes and runs laughing. With the older guy gaining on us, I grab Jessica by the waist and throw her over my shoulder, running with her slung over my shoulder. We run all the way up the wooden dock and onto the beach laughing the whole time. Out of breath, I stop, and lower Jessica who is red in the face from giggling so hard.