by Teagan Kade
Storm’s smiling. “And why should I help you?”
“Because you seem like a decent guy.” I motion to the photo. “Your family?”
He nods. “My wife Alice and little girl Faith.”
“They’re not here?”
“They’ll be home soon.”
“So,” I press, “will you help me find him, find Deacon?”
Strom laughs, looking to the door of the shed. “Deacon, is that what he’s calling himself these days?”
“Yes.” A funny feeling knots in my stomach.
“Your boy went by ‘Damien’ when he was in Millertown.”
“Damien?”
“Damien Cruise.”
I’m struggling to believe it. The knot tightens further until I can barely breathe. “Are you sure?”
He crosses his arms and nods. “I never forget a face and I sure as hell remember that one.”
“Why, was he a criminal? Did he do something?”
Another laugh. “That’s a funny question to be asking considering, isn’t it?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Considering he’s one of you.”
“One of what?” I ask.
Storm releases his arms, hands flat against the panels of the Chevy. “A cop.”
*
I sit with Storm inside the house, the afternoon light turning the windows honey maple.
I pick up my coffee with two hands and try to stop them from shaking. “How did a cop from California wind up out here?”
Storm, now clad in a body-clinging white tee, places an arm over the back of his chair. “I don’t know the full story. From what I hear he lived with his brothers down in Newport, got sick of the place for some reason and asked to be transferred here.”
“To Millertown?”
Storm nods. “The lumber mill closed a while back. The place was a real shithole when he arrived as Sheriff. Still is, but he was pretty set on cleaning things up, took a real hard line against the bikers.”
“The bikers?”
“At the time, Millertown was caught in a kind of drug war. Crime was high, no jobs—people wanted a release and the bikers were more than happy to give it to them, and more. I had my own run-ins with them on more than one occasion,” he points to a bullet hole in the roof, “as you can see.”
It’s still not making sense. A cop was the last thing I expected Deacon to be, Damien, whatever his name is. I’m struggling to make sense of it all. “He got into trouble with these bikers?”
“After a while the cartels started using the town as a sort of distribution center, partnered up with the bikers—real elaborate shit. Your boy worked it out and took their whole operation down—him, his deputy and another officer, the three of them. When the Feds showed, everyone was tied up in a nice little bundle, but a ton of money was missing, almost three million. The bikers would never let on, of course, but word on the street was one of those cops, maybe all of them, bagged it up.”
So Deacon could be a criminal after all. “What happened to the others, the deputy and the other guy?”
“What do you think? A week later someone found the deputy less half his head down by the interstate, the other guy made it to the border before they got him, and Damien? When they showed up at his doorstep, he was ready. He took three of them down single-handedly. After that, he was gone, a ghost, roped up his brothers and got the hell out of here. Guess you just solved the mystery of where he went.”
I don’t really know this guy. He could go to the bikers, the cartels, whoever wants Deacon right now. I might have signed his death warrant by coming out here. His name’s not even Deacon. “How can I trust you?”
Storm takes his mug from the table. Herbal tea doesn’t really suit his demeanor. “Look, I used to be part of that world a while ago, but not anymore, not for a long time. I’ve got a family now. I’m… reformed.”
“Reformed?” comes a voice from the doorway.
I spin to find a woman there near my own age with grocery bags in hand, a toddler gripping her leg tight.
Storm gestures to me. “Alice, my wife. Alice, this is Lux. She’s looking for someone from Millertown, thought I could help.”
Alice slings the bags up onto the counter, the toddler running behind her and peeking out at me with one eye. She looks to me. “Was he able to help?”
Considering her husband is sitting here, alone, with a complete stranger, she doesn’t seem too concerned. “Yes, a great deal, but I don’t want to intrude.”
She spins around, pulling the little girl close, and smiling. “It’s nice to have company. Will you be staying for dinner?”
“No, I couldn’t possibly…”
The little girl bounds out from behind her mother, her shyness lost. “Stay! Stay! Stay!”
I look to Storm.
“It’s a long trip back to California,” he says, mug cradled in his hands.
“Okay,” I relent. “I’ll stay.”
*
It’s been forever since I had a proper home-cooked meal like this. “You’re a lucky guy,” I tell Storm across the table, trying to shove in a few more roasted potatoes without coming across like a complete garbage collector.
“He is,” Alice smiles, gathering plates and taking them to the sink. She runs the tap, addressing Storm. “Can you put Faith to bed, baby?”
He stands, pulling the little girl up into her arms amongst protests of ‘But, Daddy.’
He pulls her cheek. “Come on. You’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
She waves to me. “Bye, Lux!”
“Bye, Faith,” I wave back, swallowing the last of the potato. “It was nice to meet you.”
When they’ve gone, Alice sits beside me. “So you’re from California?”
I place my knife and fork down on the plate. “Born and raised.”
“I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”
“It is.”
“Was Storm able to give you any information on your friend?”
“He was. He seems like a really nice guy.”
Alice takes my plate, standing. “Between us girls, I thought he was a bit of an asshole when we first met. He definitely looked like trouble, but that was a long time ago. He’s different these days. What about the person you’re looking for? Is it a guy?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Something like that.”
“I take it he’s trouble too?”
Could well be. “Hard to say. If anything, what Storm told me about him only makes this whole thing more confusing. He’s not who I thought he was.”
Alice shuts off the tap. “That can be a good thing, trust me.”
“But he hasn’t been straight with me.”
“Maybe he was trying to protect you.”
Maybe he was. It would certainly explain why he was so eager to push me away. Taking the money would make him a criminal, but maybe he took it for the right reasons? Can you even hear yourself? “I don’t know what to do. I really don’t.”
Alice sits again, places her hand over mine on the table. “I’m probably the last person who should be dishing out relationship advice, but take it from me, sometimes the bad boys go good. It can happen. Storm is living proof. Go to him, whoever it is, if that’s what you want and if you can’t picture life without him. Make it work, no matter the cost.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
She lets go of my hand and stands, looking down the hall. “As someone once told me, it’s best to stop worrying about what can go wrong and get excited about what can go right.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DEACON
I stand looking out the window. The drizzle that’s been falling all day has eased up. Wind chimes tap together in the distance.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough daydreaming?”
I turn around to find Razor waxing his board on the kitchen table. Bo’s pulling his down from the w
all.
“You’re heading out?” I ask.
Razor speaks to the board. “Killer offshore, man, decent swell. The tide’s right. You in?”
It’s funny. Normally, I would jump at the chance to surf Shipstern in these conditions, but I’m simply not in the mood. Better to wallow on land than the water where your senses need to be sharp, especially at the Bluff. It’s not in me today. “I’m going to sit this one out. You two have fun getting raked across the reef.”
Razor laughs, board underarm. “Don’t go crying to us when the swell drops off tomorrow, or you finally lose that vagina you’ve been replacing your dick with lately.”
I give him the bird. “Don’t break anything, especially that pretty face of yours. Might actually make you attractive to the opposite sex.
Bo picks up his board. “Let’s go.” He pokes me in the chest. “Don’t burn the house down while we’re away.”
I nod. “I’ll try my best.”
I watch them run off down the road. It’s strange seeing only the two of them. Normally we’d all be out there.
Lux.
It’s been a week since she left and I still can’t shake her. I told myself she’d be easy to get over if I just gave it time, but try as I might she won’t leave. She may have left Finke, but she hasn’t left my heart.
*
“I’m going to run out of whiskey at this rate,” says Sarah, placing the bottle down.
I hand over a fifty. “In which case I’ll move onto bourbon.”
She pulls out a chair and seats herself. “You want to drown your sorrows because of the one that got away. I get it. I’ve had my heart broken.”
I try to picture the kind of guy that would break Sarah’s heart. I would not want to be his balls. I take a slug of the whiskey. “She didn’t get away. I pushed her away.”
“Why?”
Good ol’ Sarah. Straight to the fucking point. “I didn’t come here for the quaint conversation.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t be a wanker. I’m trying to help. You tough boys and your shielded emotions. God damn biggest problem in the world. Forget fucking nuclear war.”
“You don’t strike me as the emotional type.”
She pushes her tits together. “There’s a heart in there somewhere believe it or not. So, the girl. Spill it.”
I lean back, slide the tumbler into the middle of the table. “I came to the realization it wasn’t going to work.”
“Why?” Sarah presses.
Fuck me. “Because everyone who hangs around me long enough winds up dead.”
“Your brothers seem very much alive.”
“They’re alive, but I don’t think they appreciate being dragged halfway across the world for protection.”
Sarah leans in. “Ah, but you have kept them safe. You can protect them. You can protect her, so why push her away? Why do that to yourself? I mean, fuck knows what she sees in you, but the connection is obvious. There was another one, wasn’t there? A girl you lost.”
She’s striking too close to home now. “Enough.”
“No, you need to get this off your chest.”
I swipe the tumbler off the table. It smashes on the floor. “Do I? Some things are best left buried.”
I take out my clip, slap down another five for the glass.
Sarah remains stony, unmoved. “You’re fucking scared. That’s what it is.”
I slam my fist down on the table. “I am never fucking scared. She’s gone. It’s over.”
“Who?”
I stop. I don’t even know who I’m talking about anymore—Lux, Abbey… It all blends together inside the mess that’s in my head.
The pain hits me hard right in the gut, twists into it like a knife. The whiskey doesn’t help. It dulls the pain, but it never takes it away. Nothing can. “Since you’re such a fucking expert in these matters then, what should I do? I can’t go back to the States.”
“Can you pick up a fucking phone?”
I laugh. “And you call me the smartass?”
“You have contacts. Guys like you always do. Call her for fuck’s sake. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Guys like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”
She points to my head. “Sure don’t see a halo floating up there.”
“You’d fall off your fucking chair if I told you the truth.”
She waves it away. “I don’t give a shit about the truth, but I know when two people should be together. You’re broken, but if anyone can patch your sorry ass up, it’s her. Besides, it would be a shame to see a sexy thing like you go to waste.”
I laugh. “Was that a compliment?”
She shrugs. “If I was twenty years younger I’d fuck you like a freight train, but I’m over bad boys now. Too much brooding and intro-fucking-spection. Drama? I’ve got the soapies for that.”
I smile back. “Who says I’d want to fuck you?”
She stands up and leans down, winking. “Who wouldn’t?”
*
“Hello?”
The guy’s voice is deeper than I imagined. “Is this Jason?”
“Who’s calling?”
“I’m a friend of Lux’s.” Friend—That’s one way to put it.
A huff. “Lux doesn’t have many friends.”
“Call me a new acquaintance then.”
“You’re the guy from Australia, aren’t you?”
Pretty boy doesn’t miss a beat. “I am.”
“I should hang up right now after what you did to her. Do you know what kind of state she was in when she arrived?”
“So why are we still talking?”
He laughs. “I don’t know. Curiosity maybe. How’d you do it? How did you get her to fall for you so hard?”
It’s a fucking good question. “I don’t know. I suppose we share a lot in common.”
“Is that so?”
Two can play at this game. “You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”
Another laugh. “I’m too straight for her. I have a girlfriend, and besides, I can’t swim.”
“Pity.”
“Like you care.”
“Is she there?”
“Even if she was, you think I’d tell her you called?”
“I do. You care about her. I respect that. You want her to be happy, don’t you?”
“Of course, which is why I’m going to tell you she’s not here, lover boy.”
Fuck. “And let me guess, you’re not going to tell me where she is either, are you?”
“She’s already on her way to the airport.”
“She’s catching a flight?” I question.
A sigh. “God knows why, but she’s coming back for you.”
I don’t know what to say.
“If you hurt her…” he continues, putting on his best tough-guy voice.
“I won’t,” I reply, hanging up but keeping my hand around the phone, gripping it tight.
I shake my head.
She’s coming back.
She’s fucking coming back to me.
*
The swell must be good. It’s been a solid three hours and the boys are still out there.
I sit on the veranda watching the ocean in the distance, my thoughts with Lux. Am I happy she’s coming back? Of course, but what now? Do I tell her the truth, try and start over? Or do I push her away again, keep her safe?
Why? Why the fuck do you do it to yourself, says my head, this fucking self-sabotage? Would it really be so wrong to be happy for once, let the past lie?
I hear tires on gravel. I look down to see the sergeant’s cruiser pulling in. At least the sirens aren’t on—a good sign.
The door opens, Sergeant Wilson getting out a little too fast. He’s alone, no backup.
I stand, slip my hands into my pockets as I walk down the stairs to meet him. “Everything okay, Sergeant?”
He takes off his cap, hand running through his hair. He looks like he’s out of breath, like he’s just r
un to the mainland and back. “It’s your brother.”
I tense up. “Which one?”
“Bo.”
Fuck. “What’s he done now?”
The sergeant looks down at his feet.
Concern rises. “What is it?”
He looks up. “He’s been attacked.”
Attacked? Fear grips me hard. “What?”
“A shark, great white by the look of it.”
Holy shit. This was always a danger. It’s in the back of my mind every time I go out, but sightings are rare. Of all the times I didn’t go out…
I swallow a lump in my throat. I don’t want to ask the question, but I have to know.
I look the sergeant dead in the eyes. “Just tell me. Is he alive?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LUX
The door’s unlocked.
“Hello?” I call.
I come into the lounge room to find Razor busily trying to shove a gossip magazine under the sofa cushion.
I place my bags down and stand there with my arms crossed. I packed light this time. “You leave your porn lying around but you don’t want me to see you reading TV Week?”
“Not a fucking word, you hear?”
I pretend I’m zipping my mouth. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Razor stands up and walks over, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, holding me away and looking me over. “You’re the last person I expected to see around here again.”
I look over his shoulder. “Is he here?”
Razor shakes his head. “There was an accident.”
My heart stops. “An accident?”
“Bo was attacked by a shark this morning.”
I start to smile because surely it’s a joke, but the expression on Razor’s face tells me it’s not. “You’re serious.”
“I am. Deacon’s been at the hospital in Hobart most of the day, but he should be back any moment.”
I can’t believe it—an actual shark attack. “Bo. What happened? Is he going to be okay?”