Rogue Wave: Cake Series Book Five

by J. Bengtsson

  “Jake? Are you talkin’ about Jake?” He laughed each word, inciting the beginnings of a riot inside my head. “You’re so dense. Your brother’s not missing, Keith, he’s fucking dead. Everybody knows it. He was probably offed the first night.”

  Steve wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t heard before. Nor was he saying anything I hadn’t thought myself, but damned if I was going to let some lowlife speak my brother’s name like he didn’t matter. Steam rose through my body like a teakettle ready to blow its top, and when it hit the surface air, I came up swinging. My fist connected to his nutsack without a second’s warning, and he dropped to the floor beside me, cupping his battered balls and stinking up the place like the pile of filth he was.

  Gathering what strength I had left, I picked myself up off the floor and stood over Steve, ready to pummel him. I’d never been an angry person… selfish and resentful, yes, but not angry. Now I wanted to hurt people for speaking the truth. Yes, the likeliest scenario was that my brother had met a grizzly death, but the alternative was equally as horrifying. If Jake was still alive, he was suffering, and there was no way my brain could go there. It’s not that I wished him dead, it’s just I didn’t have the mental toughness to wish him alive.

  “Don’t you ever say his name again, you got that? Ever!”

  I continued beating on the recipient of my rage until his colleagues ripped me from his body. Steve, of course, was furious, and how could I blame him? His ball sack had just absorbed an entire month of my pent-up rage, and now he was itching for revenge. Apparently roughing me up on site wasn’t intimidating enough, so I was thrown into the back of Steve’s vehicle for what was sure to be a wild ride.

  Belying the seriousness of my situation, a smile stretched wide across my face. That little loss of control was probably going to get me beaten to a bloody pulp, yet I welcomed the pain. Craved it. At this point I really didn’t have anything left to lose. My family had detonated the minute Jake was forcefully dragged away from our lives. Some of us held on longer than others. Actually, I take that back. Emma was the only dangler left. The rest of us let go from the start and were now just bodies littered on a concrete slab like Grace’s birthday drawing had foretold.

  No doubt reacting to my smiling profile, Steve warned, “I don’t think you fully understand the seriousness of the situation, Keith. Outstanding balances don’t sit well with my boss.”

  “Well, I hate to tell you this, but I don’t have any way to pay my debt this second, so this little trip of yours isn’t going to help your cause. Like I said, I can get you your money tomorrow, and then both our problems will go away.”

  “That would be swell, Keith, if I trusted a word out of your mouth. It’s time you learned a lesson.”

  I sat in silence the remainder of the way, my mind retreating back to an easier time – a time when I was still a fuck up but at least a lovable one; a time when my family was imperfect but mercifully intact; a time when I had the girl of my dreams on top of me in my truck. Now I was just a junkie, no better than the tweakers I’d thumbed my nose at months ago.

  God, I was pathetic. I shouldn’t be here now, about to get the snot beaten out of me. I should be holding strong with Sam by my side, the two of us helping Emma hold what was left of my tattered family together. But the second I pulled that box from my closet, I’d lost all claims to her. Sam deserved better than the likes of me, and the sooner I let go of what we’d had, the better.

  I sat fidgeting on my chair. The man circled around me, speaking to himself under his breath as his fingers followed the lines of the chair. When you lived in the hallucinogenic world I did, bizarre behavior was the norm. So, even though I was alone with him, I wasn’t all that worried. I mean, it wasn’t like this wasp of a man, in his forties, balding, and missing a couple of teeth, was some imposing character. I was seriously questioning how he’d risen to a middleman position in the first place. I mean, I wasn’t some muscle man myself, nor was I in the best physical shape after the month I’d had, but even I could blow the guy over with one puff of air. A beating from this guy was going to be about as painful as getting whacked by a fly swatter.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked, all cocky like he was some high-profile celebrity and not the piece of shit he truly was.

  No, I didn’t know who he was, nor did I care. My high was fading, and I needed to get back and find a friend who could keep me going until morning. Let’s get the beat down over with, shall we?

  “My name is Paulie. I’m the guy you’re stealing from.”

  “I’m not stealing from you, dude. Like I was telling Steve…”

  Before I could finish my line of bullshit, Paulie backhanded me across the face, and I had to admit, it smarted more than I would have expected from a skeleton.

  “Keeeithhhh,” he said, elongating my name in a breathy, creeper sort of way. “Here’s how it’s going to work from here on out. I talk. You listen. Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “Excellent. Now, I hear you have a bit of a unique situation. I know who your family is and what happened to your brother. Now, I’m not heartless, Keith. I’m not. I get that you’re going through a rough time. But I’m also a businessman, and I expect to be paid what I’m owed.”

  “And I’ll get it to you tomorrow, like I told Steve.”

  Pain exploded through my eyeball and I could feel it swelling up on impact. Jesus, this feather of a man had a hell of a right hook. My head was spinning from the violence, and suddenly I wasn’t feeling as confident in my ability to escape this man’s clutches with minimal damage.

  “What did I say, Keith?”

  “No talking,” I answered, my face tingling as it puffed up.

  “Exactly. You don’t follow directions well, do you?”

  “No, that’s never been my strong suit.”

  Another blow rocked my world. He was confusing me. I thought we were having a conversation. I mean, why was he asking me questions if he didn’t want an answer? Jesus, you’d think he could be clearer. I tried shaking off the pain spreading through my face, but it was no use. I was in a world of hurt.

  “Here’s the problem, Keith. You say you’re going to pay me, but I don’t believe you. So, now I’m forced to take a different approach.”

  Paulie walked to his desk and flipped the computer around. What was on the screen knocked the wind right out of me: photographs of my family. Some had been taken at the press conference and others snapped at close range of my father and siblings entering and exiting the house. Even Grace and Quinn weren’t spared in this shakedown.

  “What is this?” I asked, in little more than a whisper. “Why do you have these pictures?”

  “Insurance, Keith. You have until 3:00pm tomorrow or I’ll be making a house call I guarantee you won’t like.”

  Maybe I’d assumed things couldn’t get worse, but of course I’d been wrong. I’d always been able to count on my stupidity to lead me astray, but it had only been myself that got hurt. This was different. I’d led these people to my front door… endangered those I loved. It was my soul that needed to pay the price. Lowering my gaze to the ground, I nodded. The debt would be paid.

  I was flying high as I inched closer to the edge of the cliff, keeping my eyes firmly focused on the rubber toecap of my tattered white Vans. It was as if my shoes had a life of their own, pulling me feet first toward oblivion. How easy would it be to end it all? Just step off the ledge and all pain would cease. Oh god, how nice that sounded! Such a relief. I inched closer, and pebbles cascaded over the ridge.

  “Whoa.” A nervous cackle escaped me as I slid my feet back a smidge. I wasn’t thinking right. I didn’t want to die… did I? No. I couldn’t do that to my family. They’d already suffered enough. But, if I thought about it, what did I really add to the mix? Nothing – especially now that I could add breaking and entering to my list of crimes.

  After Paulie’s threat of retaliation, I’d taken to procuring money by any means necessary, first fro
m my dad, and then, to continue feeding my habit, by stealing easily pawned items and swiping prescription drugs off the shelves of the homes I burglarized. I’d justified my behavior by telling myself I was doing it for my family, but my debt had been paid the first day, and now my exploits were just being cycled back into my system.

  I should’ve stayed home. After calling Emma for help following the beating, suddenly I found myself at home fearing an impending visit from Paulie. I’d had no choice but to tell my father. He’d taken care of what I owed, and I’d promised him I’d stay home. But withdrawal kicked my ass, and when he’d given me a moment to myself, I’d climbed out the window and hadn’t returned.

  Whatever pill was inside me now was filling my head with dangerous thoughts. I felt weightless and ready for flight. Raising my arms to the side, I crept ever so slightly forward until the tips of my toes touched air again. The deliberate movements sent small rocks and other dusty debris tumbling to their demise over the rocky ledge. The Devil’s Plunge; that’s what locals had ominously dubbed this soaring patch of earth, and it lived up to its gloomy moniker. Every year it beckoned lost souls, and every year scores of them were silently claimed by the clutches of hell.

  I could easily join their ranks. And once that happened, I’d be nothing more than a number, forgotten by all but a select few. There’d be no Keith McKallister Memorial Bench because I wouldn’t be dying in some badass way. There would be no horrifying shark attack for me. No, just a calculated and weak death, one that would serve its purpose in silencing my own demons… but would cast fresh new ones at the people I left behind.

  Taking a quick peek over the rock face, I settled my gaze on the assembly of rocks piled high at the base of the cliff. Ocean water crashed, filling in the gaps between the boulders, and then, almost as if the water was changing its mind, the surge rushed back out to the sea in a swirl of waves. It was a sign. Back away from the edge. Yet my feet stayed put, teetering on the edge of death.

  I could feel it – the pull for silence, for death. Whatever was in that pill I’d taken was making it so easy. I thought of all the other cliff jumpers who’d come before me and wondered what had been their final straw. Had they stood in this very spot contemplating their life up until the point they’d given up?

  A familiar voice cautioned me. Back up, Keith. Don’t do this. Her face materialized before me, so clear. Sam.

  “What are you doing here?” my altered brain asked. And then I remembered her brother, Sullivan, and his similar flight to oblivion. The rocks began to give way below my feet and I could feel myself slipping. I was going to die. Fear stole the haze from my brain, breaking my trance. I took a step back. Then another. Soon I was free from the cliff’s edge and from a death that was not meant to be mine.

  A safe distance away, I dropped to my ass, burying my head in my knees as relief rocked my soul. Sam’s hologram rested beside me, her transparent fingers covering my own. You’re going to be okay, she reassured me. If ever there was a wake-up call, this was it. My tweaked-out brain had nearly forsaken me. If Sam hadn’t appeared when she did, I’d be dead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. This had to end. I had to pull myself back off the ledge – somehow.

  “KEITH!”

  The scream came from somewhere down the path. I lifted my head to the shouts of one of my new druggie friends whose name totally escaped me. There was a desperation in the way he was calling to me that sent me scrambling to my feet. Something was wrong.

  The scruffy dude rounded the bend, his eyes wide and face beet red from the trek up the mountain. As soon as he caught sight of me, he dropped to his hands to his knees, drew in puffs of air into his lungs, and said, “Jake.”

  Even though I couldn’t remember who the fuck he was, I felt certain he should know not to speak my brother’s name. Hadn’t I made that perfectly clear? I narrowed my eyes on the traitor before brushing past him, away from the ledge, away from death.

  “No,” he panted, grabbing the back of my shirt. “Keith. Wait. It’s all over the radio. Jake’s been found.”

  18

  Samantha: Shoreline

  I’d only been at Shannon’s for two days when her mother’s frantic voice traveled down the hallway calling for our attention. Her tone was jarring enough that we’d both jerked our heads up and out of our books and exchanged alarmed glances before racing into the living room. Her mother and father were huddled around the television when we arrived, and Shannon’s mother reached her hand out to me.

  “He’s been found,” she said.

  My first thought was that she was speaking of Keith, but when a picture of Jake filled the screen, the full scope of her words hit home.

  “He’s alive, Samantha.”

  Jake’s escape would soon become the biggest news story ever to come out of our town. The details were so extraordinary that it reached a worldwide audience. If we thought the media had gone wild over the kidnapping, it was nothing compared with his return. Overnight our town’s population quadrupled as news organizations moved in, once again setting up shop on the McKallisters’ front lawn, in front of the hospital where Jake was currently fighting for his life, and at the home of Ray Davis, the man responsible for it all.

  For the next several days, I sat glued to the tube with the O’Malley family and, along with the rest of the world, watched as the miracle of Jake’s return was twisted into something dark and sinister. Learning of the horrifying details of his imprisonment and subsequent escape was like a live action horror movie come to life – and that was before the police started digging up bodies.

  Burrowing my feet into the warm sand, I pushed those graphic images from my mind. Today was about finding peace and appreciating this place I’d called home for the past two and a half years. By tomorrow night, I’d be settled into a new life down the coast in San Diego with my aunt and her two young daughters. And although my heart was sad for those I’d leave behind, I was ready. Living a life free of fear was all I’d ever wanted, and now that it was within grasp, I clung to it with newfound vigor.

  But nostalgia was in the air as I sat at the base of the sand dune and looked out over the vast ocean, committing to memory this beautiful place. It only seemed fitting that I come here for a final goodbye. This was the spot that had started it all – where I’d fallen in love but also where I’d gone to nurse my broken heart. And it was where I’d come in search of Keith, hoping that someday he’d find his way home.

  Movement in the distance caught my eye, and I followed the figure of a man as he made his way along the shoreline. Like an intruder, I sat quietly on my towel, spying on his private moment. I watched as he dipped his bare toes into the water and occasionally bent down to pick something up from the sand. Then, after careful inspection, he’d cast whatever was in his hand back into the ocean. I wondered what he was looking for and why it was so important to him.

  At first he was just a stranger wandering along the water’s edge, but as he drew closer, my heart rate quickened. I sat up a little straighter, attempting to bring his face into view. And even though he was too far away to see clearly, I knew. It was Keith. Wrapping my arms around my knees protectively, I continued to study him. He was walking with a heavy gait now, but that distinctive sway of his body was unmistakable. I’d draped myself around it enough times that now just the memory of our intimacy brought with it a quiver of need.

  The promise to Emma had been made before Jake’s return, before my mother’s assault, and before Keith had returned home without ever picking up a phone and calling me. I had no choice but to give up on us – especially now when holding on would do neither of us any good.

  As Keith drew closer, I startled at his gaunt appearance. His hair was longer than before, and instead of the shaggy mane I loved to run my fingers through, the strands were now stringy and lifeless. And his shoulders, once so proud and strong, were slumped forward, as if an invisible weight were dragging him down. This wasn’t the boy I remembered. My Keith walked with a
spring in his step and a smile permanently stamped onto his face. My heart ached for him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and cure his sadness, but I was no longer enough for Keith. He had a new lover, and she was dragging him into the ground. I wanted to steal him back, but I knew I couldn’t hold onto him. He required help I was unable to provide, especially given that I was leaving for a new life. Anything I could give him today would only add to his sorrows tomorrow. No, I wouldn’t go to him now. It was best to leave him be.

  But that was before he dropped to the sand. Before he laid his forehead against his folded knees. And before his entwined fingers rested behind his head with a heaviness I knew all too well. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever witnessed such a lonely and conflicted moment. Keith was a broken soul, on the edge, and I imagined Sullivan at this same desperate moment in his life. There was no way I could walk away now.

  Rising to my feet, I dusted myself off and made my way across the sand. Would he welcome my intrusion or cast me aside like he’d been doing for weeks now? Not that it would matter. He would get my help regardless. Not wanting to startle him, I kicked a little sand in his direction to announce my presence. Keith followed the gravel’s flight path before twisting his head in my direction. It took a moment for recognition to flash in his eyes.

  “Sam?”

  Oh, my god, he was gutted. Bruised and battered. I didn’t even want to know what had happened to him since he’d been gone. Swallowing back a sob of pity, I corrected him – as was our way. “Samantha.”

  A tiny smile traveled to his lips, and regardless of the fact that I’d spent the last month wanting to physically throttle him for leaving me, I hovered over him from behind and wrapped my arms around him like a comfortable blanket. Keith grabbed my arms, now crossed over his chest, and tipped his head back against mine, and we stayed in this position for as long as it took for the tension to release from his body. Only then did I take a seat beside him, and our shoulders pressed into each other like old times.