“You did it,” he responds.
“Yeah, I guess I did,” I gloat.
“Boys, come on. That’s enough playing. It’s time to finish packing up,” Serena calls.
I look at Trent and shrug my shoulders. “Playtime’s over for now.”
“Fuck,” he says.
I tug the string down and the fabric loses its sail, descending immediately. When I’m close enough, I pop Trent in the back of the head.
He rubs it and looks at me questioningly. “What was that for?”
“Don’t swear.”
“Are you kidding me? You swear all the time.”
I grin at him. “Yeah, but that’s me. Not you. And you know how mad it makes your mother.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll try to keep it cleaner around her. I promise,” he responds.
I put an arm around his shoulder and walk with him up the beach toward the house. “Did I ever tell you about the time Grandma put a whole bar of soap in my mouth?”
He looks over to me. “My mom used to do that to me all the time when I was little.”
I laugh at the memory. “No, Trent, she did it the day I graduated high school.”
“Fuck, then that’s where my mom gets it from.” He laughs.
I pull his head to me. “Damn straight, so cut the fucking swearing already.”
“What’s so funny?” Serena asks, tugging the door to the rental truck down.
“Just boy talk. Nothing for you to worry about big sis,” I tell her.
“Right.” She smirks.
I nod my head toward the house. “Let me just give it a once over, then we’ll head out.”
She nods in response, moving to swipe Trent’s hair from his eyes.
I walk through my family’s house, which now seems so much emptier without some of my mother’s things, and slowly walk from room to room. My sister came back from Hawaii the minute I called her after my arrest and we both cried for forgiveness. I love her and I need her in my life—I finally told her that. We handled our grief in different ways, and I’m not saying either was right or wrong, but we now know we need to stick together no matter what.
We are all moving into the beach house for the summer and we’ll decide what to do with it in the fall. Right now we are donating some of my mother’s things to charity to make room for all of us to live there. This way I can train Trent and when the fall comes and he heads to the University of Hawaii, he’ll be ready to enter any surfing competition he wants.
As for Jason, he was involved in the case. When Caleb finally called me back almost two weeks after Bass told me that Hart was one of Jason’s informants, he confirmed that it was Jason who gave him the name. At first he told me Jason hadn’t worked the beat in years and just threw the name at him when he asked for someone to help him out, someone looking for money who was willing to take the fall. But I knew he was lying, I felt in my gut he was the missing piece of the puzzle.
When I confronted Jason, he pulled me aside. He told me to trust him. That he was way more involved than Caleb or I knew and he’d be able to tell me soon. Whether or not he is on the up and up—I still haven’t been able to figure that out.
I circle back through the living room and stand where my mother’s desk once stood. I look down at the naked space and it doesn’t feel right. I rush out the door and fly down the stairs.
“Serena, toss me the keys,” I tell her.
She looks at me. “Did you forget to pack something?”
“No, I decided I want to keep the desk.”
“Come on, Ben, it’s so old and broken. You can buy a newer, more functional one.”
“Just toss me the keys. I want that one.”
She looks at Trent. “Here, go help him so we can get out of here.”
I unlock the door and hop up on the platform. I move a few boxes aside and drag the desk to the end. We ease it out of the truck, but it’s top heavy and tumbles over, crashing to the ground.
“Fuck!” I yell.
“Fuck,” Trent mutters.