“She has me.”
He moves toward me locking his fists at his side but quickly relaxing them. “You know I always thought of you as more than just Serena’s little brother. You were mine, too. I appreciate and admire what you did for them when I couldn’t—the way you took care of my family. And I know you’re under a lot of pressure right now—losing your mother, your girl, and having your life turned upside down—so I’m going to let your attitude pass. But, Ben, remember, I’m on your side.”
I want to punch the righteous right off his face. “Oh, is that the way you feel? I’m glad you settled that between us.” I snort.
“One more thing. Since we’re having such a heart to heart. Trent is my kid, not yours. The next time he gets into trouble, call me. Don’t think you know what’s best for him, because you don’t.”
My patience for his arrogance has long passed. I move closer and press my finger into his chest. “No, Jason, that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t. You never gave that kid the time of day. I’d even go so far as to say you’re more worried about how it looks that the kid of a vice detective went to rehab than you are about what put him there.”
“I wish that were the case,” he mutters.
“Ben, stop it,” my sister calls out as she approaches us.
I raise my hands and try to talk but she cuts me off. “That’s enough. Just enough for today.”
“Right,” I say and walk away. I’ve had enough for today, too.
***
Fires have raced up the brushy hillsides and I feel just as pelted by the Santa Anas as those whose homes are surrounded by the blaze. I’m trapped in the flames of misery—lost inside my own ninety mile an hour winds, as time seems to pass so slowly.
I’m alone. Caleb left town shortly after the funeral. And Serena’s spending more and more time with Jason. He’s been going with her to check on Trent in rehab. But for me the days only bleed into nights. I decide to move out of my house. I can’t stay there. The ghosts are everywhere. I end up catching a break in that there’s a young couple ready to rent it. I move into my mother’s empty house where more ghosts haunt me, but right now, I have no choice. At least I can live off the rental income until I find a job, which isn’t going to be easy. And to boot, that fucking douchebag photographer from the funeral has decided to sue me. Let him see what he can get even if he wins. The house is in Dahl’s name and I have nothing else to speak of.
I fall into a routine . . . same thing, different day. I go out, get drunk, come home, and descend into oblivion. But the numbness from the alcohol is starting to wane and the pain isn’t fading as quickly anymore. Tonight a new antidote dropped itself right into my lap. I was at the Cliff and just before closing, a chick slipped her hand into my back pocket while I was playing pool. I saw only the back of her before she ducked out, but it was enough to intrigue me. I pulled the note out and read it. I’ve been watching you all night. Meet me around back if you want to know what reward and punishment feels like. I couldn’t turn that down. I exited the bar through the same door as her. I walked around the corner to the parking lot. She was sitting on top of a car, waiting for me. I stared at her as I tried to place her familiarity.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Ben Covington.”
I was still trying to figure out how I knew her.
“I didn’t think you’d recognize me. We went to high school together. We were in the same English class.”
I couldn’t fucking place her and by now it must have been evident.
“We were partners on the Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn projects. I made the Mississippi River for you and the blue epoxy stuck to my fingers for days.”
“Fuck, yes. How the hell are you . . . ?”