Page 34 of Rowdy Boy

I watch as his face pales, then goes putrid. I know better, though. He’s not ashamed of his behavior. He’s just mad he got caught.

Joey appears in the hall, red in the face and sweaty, with his football pads still on.

He pulls off his headphones and looks from me to Joe, then back again. “What’s going on?”

I don’t waste any energy beating around the bush. “Did you know he was paying Courtney Sinclair to date me?”

All the redness drains from his face, and I instantly have my answer.

Fuck this. My anger gets the best of me as I watch my little brother scurry up the stairs to avoid this confrontation. There’s no way Julian doesn’t know, too. I live in a house of liars. I come from a legacy of assholes. I have no one.

Except…

That’s not true. I have Rhett and Tori. Grandma Patty. Mike at the bar.

I’m not alone. I can do this.

“You still have another year of school. You’re staying in this house until you graduate, sonny. You hear me?”

I hear him. But my listening skills aren’t the problem here. There’s no doubt in my mind that another year, month, week, or even day in this house puts me at risk. Risk of being hurt by him. Risk of being so mentally triggered I hurt myself. His words used to have me in a chokehold. Now I’m standing in front of him, choking back a smirk.

“Grandma Patty and I thought you might say that. She figured she’d stay in town a few weeks to help me get settled into my new place and to square things away with the school. She said that if my residency was questioned, she’d be happy to reschedule her transcontinental cruise and move to Hampton until I graduate.”

I hadn’t thought Joe could get any paler. I was wrong.

He may hate the woman, but he fears her more. That, or she reminds him too much of Mom. Maybe a little of both.

“I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff once I get the keys to my new place.”

I know it’s a long shot that he’ll let me come back and take anything out of the house. That’s why I have my necessities already packed, and I hid a few boxes in the attic. If it works out, I’ll be happy to have my things. If it doesn’t, I’ll just be grateful I made it out alive.

He doesn’t respond, and I have nothing left to say to him. This is it.

I look down at my suitcase for a moment, then over toward the stairs. Any nostalgia or happy memories I once associated with this house have been replaced by the physical abuse and emotional trauma dished out so generously over the years. I don’t even feel compelled to say goodbye.

I turn, prompting him to holler, “We’re not done here, sonny!”

I don’t bother responding or even acknowledging his words. He has no power over me. Not now. Not anymore.

Chapter 16

8 Years Later

“You’rethefirstpersonI’ve told.”

I glance wearily at the only man sitting at my bar. He looks tired. Defeated. Like a shell of the boisterous, good-natured retired Navy SEAL I’m proud to call my mentor and friend.

I finish pouring his beer and approach with caution. I have never, in the ten years I’ve worked for Mike Hobbs, seen him this shaken up. Blowing out a long breath, I try to make sense of everything he just confessed.

His mom is sick. He didn’t know how bad it was. She somehow managed to sign away her entire life savings to an “investor” who has fallen off the grid. Now, not only is she broke, but she’s in debt. Severe debt. And since he just found out she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s more than six months ago, he has no choice but to move to Florida as soon as possible and care for her.

I choose my words carefully, not wanting to come off insensitive but also desperate to know what this means for me.

″What are you going to do?”

There. That should be open-ended enough to err on the side of concerned friend instead of anxious employee. As sympathetic as I feel about his predicament, my mind instantly went to two things: Clinton’s Family Restaurant and The Oak Barrel Tavern.

I’m the manager here at The Oak, and I still fill in at Clinton’s when someone needs a night off. I also invested $100,000 to get the place up and running a few years ago, making me a silent partner. Between the two establishments, I work at least sixty hours a week, and I love every second of it thanks to the people I work with and the patrons I view as friends. If that’s all about to change…