Powerful: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Kathleen Kelly

  “If you’ll stay.”

  “Done.”

  If nothing else, Sophia is a survivor.

  “I’ll get the room next door, it connects to this one. No one will know.”

  Sophia shakes her head. “Someone will know.”

  “I know the owner, no one will know.”

  Sophia nods, stands, and puts her suitcase on the bed. “I’ll unpack while you do that.”

  I’ve always known Sophia was using me as a stepping-stone, but I had no idea she could be this cold. Standing, I make my way out of the room and head for the manager’s office. Hopefully, he’ll be willing to keep his mouth shut, so the whole world doesn’t discover this secret.

  ***

  It’s amazing how well I slept, not sharing a bed with Sophia. For the past two months, I’ve survived on three or four hours of sleep, but last night, I got eight good hours, which tells me I need her out of my life. Sophia is a professional, so working with her on Powerful shouldn’t be a problem. It’s four thirty in the morning, and I’m dressed with my new gloves on heading to the docks. It’s only a short walk from the motel, so I decide to leave Sophia with the car.

  Opening the door to the motel, the cool morning air mixed with the smell of the sea hits me, and I realize how much I’ve missed it. After our little discussion yesterday, I decided I needed to leave Sophia alone, so I went out and purchased a pair of overalls and a black t-shirt. Somehow, Armani on the docks doesn’t seem appropriate. Not that anyone down there would know a brand name if it hit them in the face, and they don’t need to. These are honest, hardworking folk who do a hard day’s work seven days a week if need be.

  My father is already on the docks helping unload the catch from the night before. Joining him, I grab the rope he’s pulling on and help him lift the crate onto the docks. They have a full load. It should take the better part of two hours to get it ready for transport.

  “Thought you weren’t getting here till six?”

  Dad’s face twists into a grin. “I don’t feel old today. Besides, I knew you’d get here early, couldn’t have you beating me.”

  “Hey, Kris,” yells out Petey from the deck.

  “Petey.”

  “Your dad said you might be joining us. Breakfast at Scrumpies?”

  Scrumpies is a bar slash diner the fishermen of Boothbay have been eating at for as long as I can remember.

  “What about Small Delights?”

  “Nah, TB doesn’t like us coming in and stinking up his café. I reckon he thinks it’s too hard to get the smell out of his pretty seats.”

  Smiling at Petey, I nod. “Sounds like TB. Scrumpies it is.”

  Dad pats me on the back and points to the pulley. “Undo the rope so we can get the next one.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I cast my old man a look, his cheeks are red from the early morning air, and there’s a sparkle to his eyes that wasn’t there yesterday. Dad loved the sea, loved the work. For me, it was a means to an end. I worked whenever I could to save money to leave.

  For the next hour, we work in silence. Dad gives directions, and I do as I’m told. Not that I need guidance, it’s only been seven years, and I grew up on these docks. Occasionally, one of the guys will give me a hard time, and we exchange profanities, but the work has to be done so everyone buckles down and does it. The smell of fish has permeated my clothing. As a teenager, I hated it, but now I’m enjoying the hard work that the smell represents.

  Dad grabs the latest haul, pulls, and I jog around the crate to help him. For an older man, he has the strength of someone much younger. Reaching for the rope, I pull hard. There’s a snapping sound, and the line breaks, sending the crate down on Dad’s foot. He yells and tries to push it off, but nothing is going to move it.

  “Petey!” I yell as I look around for something to lift the weight off him.

  From the tone of my voice, everyone on the dock knows something has gone wrong. Petey is next to my father, and I look at him helplessly.

  “Forklift!” barks Petey.

  I nod and run to the end of the dock to get it. The keys are in the ignition, and I drive it toward my dad at the fastest speed possible, which is pathetically slow. Once I reach Dad, I place the forks under the crate, and once I’m sure it’s entirely on them, I lift. I don’t want to do further damage to his leg by moving the crate forward instead of up. Petey helps my dad out of the way, and I lower the catch back onto the dock.

  “Dad, are you okay?” I ask as I run toward him and Petey.

  “I’m fine. Get my boot off.”

  Kneeling in front of him, I shake my head. “No. We need to get you to the hospital to see how much damage is done.”

  “I’m fine, Kris. Get my fucking boot off,” orders Dad with pain in his voice.

  “For fuck’s sake, Lenny, do as you’re told for once. Kris is right, and you know it.”

  “I do not need to be told what to do by you, Petey,” bellows Dad.

  “Can you walk?” I ask, ignoring both of them.

  With his arm slung around Petey, Dad tries to take a step and winces.

  “I’ll call an ambulance,” I state.

  “Like fuck you will! I’m fine.”

  “Dad, you can’t even walk.”

  With lips pressed together and his eyebrows drawn into a harsh line, Dad pins me with a glare. It reminds me of my youth, except I’m not a kid anymore, and Dad no longer scares me. I put his other arm over my shoulder, and with Petey’s help, we get to his old blue faded truck. Another dock worker opens the passenger door, and we get Dad into the passenger seat.

  “Let me know,” says Petey as I jog around the truck.

  “I’ll be fine,” reiterates Dad.

  “I will,” I reply with a shake of my head.

  Dad lets out a loud huff and glares at me. Starting the truck, I head for the hospital.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Lincoln.” It’s the nearest hospital.

  “No. Take me to the medical center. I’m not going to that place. Your mother died there.” His voice is hard.

  “Dad, you need treatment.”

  “Please, son.”

  There’s a tone to his voice I’ve never heard before—pain mixed with sorrow. Stopping the truck, I pull over and look him in the eyes.

  “Please.”

  I nod, turn the truck around and head for the medical center. Parking out front, I look at my dad. His eyes are shut, and he’s breathing hard.

  “We’re here. Wait in the truck while I go get help.”

  Dad doesn’t open his eyes, he only nods. Jogging into the medical center, I head for the counter. Ashlea is there laughing with one of her co-workers. She looks up at me, and the smile disappears from her face.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Dad, a crate dropped on his foot. I wanted to take him to the hospital, but he won’t go.”

  Ashlea nods and disappears behind a wall only to reappear closer to the door with a wheelchair.

  “Come on, Kris, I’ll need your help getting him into the chair.”

  ***

  For two hours, I sat in the waiting room. At first, I checked my messages, then I read one of the magazines, which had a lot of inconsistencies about me. Finally, I began to pace and stare daggers at the receptionist. At first, she smiles at me, but now she’s shifting uncomfortably in her chair and trying very hard not to meet my eyes. I’m about to give her a piece of my mind when a hand lands on my elbow. Whirling around, I come face to face with Athena.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your dad had them ring me.” Her hand grabs mine, and she tugs me out through the doors into the late morning sun. “And Ashlea thought you might need the company.”

  After everything I’ve done, the way I treated her, she still comes to make sure I’m all right. My whole body is tuned into her touch. It’s like a burn that makes its way up my arm and straight to my cock.

  The sun is gleaming off her hair, h
ighlighting the natural streaks of blonde through her light brown. When I left, she was a girl, and now she’s a woman. I know I’m staring at her, I know I’m holding her hand a little too tightly, but I can’t seem to form words or tear my eyes from her.

  “Oh, good, you found him.”

  Turning, I find Deputy Todd, smiling at us, and Athena removes her hand from mine. I feel her loss instantly and want nothing more than to punch Todd.

  “Yes.” Athena smiles at him, and he drapes an arm around her shoulders. “Have they told you anything?”

  My gaze is locked on his arm. I don’t like it. I don’t want him touching what’s mine.

  “Kris?”

  Shifting my eyes to Athena, I see nothing but concern on her beautiful face.

  The hand that she held tingles. I shake it and place it on the back of my neck, rubbing the skin there.

  “No, I was just about to talk to the receptionist when you walked in.”

  Athena nods. “Okay. How about you wait here in the sunshine, and I’ll go find out?”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  Athena shakes her head. “I know you well enough to know when you’re stressed. Let me do this for you.” Her hand goes to Todd’s stomach in an all-too-friendly gesture. “Why don’t you and Todd get to know each other. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  “Okay, honey,” beams Todd.

  I want to punch him in the face so that he never smiles at her again, but instead, I put both hands in my pockets and nod. Athena smiles, moves out of his arms, pats me on the arm like I’m a lost puppy, and goes back into the building. I watch her walk away, but when I look back at Todd, he’s watching me.

  “She’s a great girl,” says Todd, drawing his eyebrows together.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Too good for you.”

  I take a step back and smirk at him. “Is that so?”

  Todd takes a step toward me. “Yep. Athena deserves better than you. Hell, she deserves better than me. But at least with me, I’m not going to dump her the minute things get tough or greener pastures appear.”

  His meaning is crystal clear, and part of me knows he’s right, but I know her.

  “Back off, Todd.”

  “Or what?”

  Todd pulls himself up to his full height, squares his shoulders, and his mouth goes into a firm line. I smirk at him and close the gap between us. We are chest to chest, but I’m still a good few inches taller than him. Anger radiates off my very being. We stare at each other, dislike and distrust permeating the air.

  “Um, do you two need a room?”

  Both our heads snap in the direction of Athena’s voice, and simultaneously, we step back from each other. Athena has a smirk on her face, moves between us, grabs Todd’s hand, and looks up at me.

  “Your dad is ready to go. He’ll need to stay off his foot for a good long while, but you can take him home.” She turns her head to Todd. “And you can take me home.” Athena looks back at me. “See you tonight at the rehearsal dinner.”

  Todd glares at me, and the two of them walk hand in hand back to his police cruiser where he opens the door for her, turns and waves at me, then he gets into the car. My gaze rests on Athena, who looks happy. The anger that threatened to overwhelm me moments ago dissipates.

  “Mr. Livingston?” I turn my head toward the voice, it’s the receptionist. “Your father is ready to go. The doctor would like to have a few words with you before he does.”

  I nod and look back to where Athena was, but the cruiser is pulling away, and she’s no longer visible.

  “Thank you,” I say as I scrub a hand over my face. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Ten

  Athena

  “Holy mother! Did you see me? Did you see me all up in his grill?” Todd practically shouts at me.

  “It was a bit hard not to. What the hell was that all about?”

  “He smelled bad.”

  Laughter erupts from me. “He was on the docks with his dad. They were probably helping one of the boats pull in their catch.”

  “The guy thinks he’s got dibs on you. I was just making it clear that he isn’t good enough.”

  “Okay, did he say he had dibs on me?”

  Todd glances at me, a smirk on his face. “No, but it’s a guy thing, I could tell. So, I set him straight. I told him he wasn’t good enough.”

  “For a moment there, I thought you two were going to come to blows.”

  Todd nods, his head moving up and down so fast he reminds me of a bobble head. “I know, right? Me in a fistfight over a girl.” Both of us laugh. “I-If only my dad could see me now.”

  From the little I know about Todd’s family, they try extremely hard to accept his lifestyle, but they always hope he’ll find a nice girl and get married. As far as I know, he’s never taken a man home to meet them.

  Todd stops his cruiser at the bottom of the hill to my house. “What time tonight?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “I heard you say rehearsal dinner. I am your pretend boyfriend, I should be there.”

  “The rehearsal is at five at the chapel, then dinner at the yacht club.”

  “Do you need me to come to the chapel and fight Kris for you or meet you at the club?”

  I smile broadly at him. “I think with my family around, I’ll be able to handle myself around Kris. So, the yacht club?”

  Todd nods. “Remember, you’re my pretend girlfriend, I don’t do cheaters.”

  “You don’t do girls, full stop.”

  Todd waves a hand in the air at me. “Pfft! Technicalities. What time?”

  “Dinner reservations are at six.”

  “See you then, girlfriend,” replies Todd with more pizazz than usual.

  Laughing at him, I jog up the stairs to my home. Seeing him and Kris facing off against each other was kind of funny. The last time I saw that look on Kris Livingston’s face, I was fifteen. But I’m not fifteen anymore, nor am I so easily won over.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kris

  Dad is sitting in the truck next to me. The doctor said at least six weeks off his foot, and thankfully, it’s not broken only badly bruised, and he has to keep it elevated.

  “You okay, son?” Glancing at him, I nod. “You’re quiet.”

  “Sorry, Dad. Just a lot on my mind. How are you feeling?”

  “Old. I’m sorry I wrecked our time together.”

  With eyebrows raised, I glance at him again. His eyes are downcast, and he’s twiddling his thumbs.

  “Dad, you didn’t do it on purpose, and you didn’t wreck our time together. I’m still here.”

  Pulling into his driveway, I turn off the truck and swivel in the seat to look at him. His lips are in a hard line and turned down on one side. Dad lets out a puff of air and turns his head to look out the window.

  “Yeah, but I can’t do anything with you now. I can’t even help Petey on the docks. I’m useless.” Dad’s voice cracks. Shaking his head, he goes to get out of the truck.

  Placing my hand on his shoulder stops his movement. “Dad, I know we haven’t been close these past few years, but I’m here. We’re both trying. I’ll be here until next Monday, but I’ll be back. We’re filming some shots at the speedway on Sunday morning, and then filming doesn’t start properly for another month. I can stay for that long, and then you could come with me to LA?”

  “Wiscasset?” replies Dad, still not looking at me.

  “Yeah, Wiscasset Speedway. Andy Westin found it, and it’s only a half-hour away, so I can come home every night.”

  Dad looks over his shoulder at me. “You’d stay here with me?”

  “Of course.”

  His face goes a deep shade of red and turns away again, nodding. “You can have your old room.” Dad’s voice is thick with emotion.

  I chuckle. “I think I’m going to have to replace the bed.” Dad nods and opens the truck’s door and swivels to get out. “Wait! Let me get your crutches.”

&nb
sp; “Pfft.”

  Dad slides out onto the ground as I scramble out of the truck, grabbing the crutches out of the back as I hurry around to his side.

  “Jesus, Dad,” I say as I thrust the crutches at him.

  Dad looks up at me. “You really going to stay?”

  I nod. “If that’s okay with you?”

  “What about your girlfriend?”

  Looking him in the eye, I shake my head. “Just you and me.”

  Dad nods and puts the crutches under his arms and slowly makes his way to his front door.

  “Where are your keys?”

  “What for, son, it’s not locked.”

  That’s the difference between living in LA, and here. In LA, everything is locked up tight as a drum, but here, there’s no need. Everyone here looks out for each other, but in LA, it’s a select few who have your back. I’m lucky to have Andy and Dottie Westin in my life, they’ve been a grounding influence. For them, family always comes first. And family is the one thing I’ve been neglecting.

  Following Dad through the house, I get him propped up in bed with a pillow under his foot when I hear someone knocking on the front door.

  “Who could that be?” asks Dad.

  “I’ll go find out. Wait here.”

  “As if I can go anywhere.”

  Shaking my head, I leave the room. Standing on the other side of the front door is Betty Boswell.

  “Hello, Kris. Ashlea phoned. Is your dad okay?”

  “Ahh, yeah, Mrs. Boswell, he’s in his room. Do you want to see him?”

  Mrs. Boswell smiles and pats me on the arm. “Of course, dear. Why don’t you make a cup of coffee for all of us, and I’ll go sit with him?”

  She makes it sound like a question, but it’s more of an order. Mrs. Boswell goes to Dad’s room while I make coffee. As I walk back down the hallway, coffee cups in my hands, I hear them talking, so I stop to listen.

  “You know he never really got over her.”

  “I know, Leonard. But he made such a mess of it.”

  “Yes, he did. I think he’s like me, though, only one true love for him.”