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CHAPTER FIVE

Jigsaw

Still reeling from Cain’s reappearance in my life, I need distance. The open road. I don’t have a particular destination in mind. All I need is my bike, the road, and the engine to drown out my thoughts.

Wind tugs at the edges of my sleeves as I take the roads toward the coast, trading highway fumes for fresh salty air.

Shuttered seafood joints and colorful shops line the streets as I enter a small town. I lean right, down a hill, and finally roll into a small parking lot. The entrance to a public beach straight ahead.

The same beach where I’d recklessly and randomly buried the last pieces of my father years ago, after leaving Jezzie with my aunt.

Have the bones been found by now? Dug up by some dog? That would be poetic since my father treated animals with about the same respect he treated humans.

Or have those pieces of him washed out to sea?

I can’t remember the exact spot, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not here to collect them.

Only a few cars are parked in between the faintly drawn lines. I lazily circle the lot, then pull into a spot designated for motorcycles. I cut the engine, and the quieter roar of the ocean fills the silence.

Wind whips around my face as I pull my helmet off and stretch my back. Ancient aches awaken from the hours of riding. I roll my shoulders and crack my neck.

Colorful towels hang from balconies of the hotel next door, flapping in the breeze. Off-season or not, a few people must be staying here. Maybe that’s where I’ll check in later. Find myself a lobster dinner, bring it back to my room, and eat on the balcony while the sun goes down.

I follow the pavement to the sandy edge and stop to unlace my boots, then strip off my socks and roll up my jeans.

Sinking my toes into the cool sand, I make my way to the water’s edge.

Icy water laps at my feet. A larger wave rolls in and slaps my ankles.

The icy bite stings but I welcome it—reminds me I’m alive.

Rolled or not, my jeans end up soaked in salt water. I back up a few steps and plop down in the softer sand. Stretching out my legs, I lean back and stare at the blue-gray water. I try to find peace in the roar, but it doesn’t come.

Seagulls approach, waddling over the sand, searching for treats. They circle near me, then back off.

“Sorry, guys. I got nothing.” I pick up a handful of sand, letting it slide through my fingers. “Don’t you dare fucking shit on me,” I warn the big, fat, winged rats.

They squawk and fly off.

The sea’s rough. Waves relentless. It’s too cold for lying out on a towel but people are walking or jogging along the beach. Dogs frolic near the water.

It’s peaceful.

But I’m still restless.

Restless and five hours from home.

My mind’s churning as hard as the ocean but outside, I’m calm. Still, like the rocks stretching into the sea.

A low grunt to my left is my only warning before a big ball of fur and drool smears a wet, cold nose on my cheek.

“Chewy! No!” a woman shouts.

Hot breath blasts over me and I turn to face a grinning big, fluffy, gray and white dog. “Hello to you too.”

He pants harder. Huh. Huh. Huh.

Since he doesn’t seem like he’s going to rip my hand off, I reach over and scratch behind his ear, searching for a collar but just finding more layers of fur. “I assume you belong to the woman frantically running over the sand?”

Huh. Huh. Huh.

“You must be well-cared for. You don’t stink as much as you look like you would.” Unbothered by the back-handed compliment, he closes his eyes, leans into my petting and lets his tongue hang out.

“I’m so sorry,” the breathless woman says as she approaches. “Did he bother you?”

“Nope. He’s been very polite.”

“Polite my ass.” She holds up a leash and collar. “He’s an escape artist. Sorry. He’s a rescue. I’ve only had him for a few days.”

I’m really not in the mood for conversation but Chewy doesn’t seem to give a fuck about my need for solitude. The big, fluffy beast stretches out in the sand next to me and rests his chin on my leg.

“Oh my gawwwd,” the woman whispers, staring down at me with an open mouth. “The rescue told me he doesn’t like men.” She lowers her voice as if she doesn’t want to offend the pooch. “They think he was abused by a man.”

I run my hand over the dog’s head. “Is that your story, boy?”

“I’m Jenna.” The woman wiggles her fingers at me.

I squint up at her flushed face, hair swept up in a bouncy ponytail, sweatshirt and leggings. “Hi, Jenna.”

She doesn’t need to know my name.

Jenna frowns when I don’t introduce myself. “Is that your bike up there? The Harley?”

Knowing I’d probably end up traveling through another club’s territory at some point, I’d stopped home to leave my cut and grab a plain riding jacket and hoodie. Apparently, the jacket still gives me away.

“You ride?” I ask.

She lifts one shoulder and tucks her chin like she’s suddenly shy. “Only on the back.”

Are you shitting me? I may be avoiding Margot because I can’t figure out how to tell her what a piece of shit I am, but I didn’t ride all the way up here to fall dick first into the first woman I run into.

“That’s my girlfriend’s spot,” I say, even though I know Margot has no intention of ever sitting there.

She flashes an awkward smile. “Oh. Lucky girl.”

Not really. I nod and shrug.

“Come on, Chewy.” Jenna dangles the leash at him.

He side-eyes her but doesn’t lift his head from my leg.

“He really seems to like you. Do you have a dog?” Jenna asks.

“No, my girlfriend has a cat.” I wave my hand over Chewy’s head. “With a similar personality, actually.”

She laughs and I hold my hand out for the collar. She hands it to me, and I gently slide it around the dog’s neck and buckle it a notch tighter than it had been. “Sorry, bud. Can’t come with me. I don’t have room for a passenger.”

Chewy slides a look of betrayal my way, then jumps up and trots to his owner’s side.

“So…are you up here vacationing by yourself?” She bites her lip and flicks her gaze toward the parking lot. “Are you staying nearby? A lot of stuff is closed this time of year, but I can suggest some good restaurants or um, show you around. I just need to run Chewy home and…”

I tune out her chatter, considering the intention behind them. A year ago, I would’ve smoothly accepted her offer to “show me around” and probably been fucking her by now. She could be a nice temporary distraction from all the darkness bubbling in my head.

Who’s gonna know? No one’s even aware I’m here.

But all I can think about is Margot. Maybe she’ll tell me to fuck off once I confess how I treated Cain.

“Can I take a picture of you and Chewy?” Jenna says, pulling me back into the conversation. She holds out her phone. “I want to send it to the rescue and tell them?—”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” I’ve entertained this chick long enough. I grab my boots and stand. Cain tracking me down from a photo in a magazine weighs on my mind. I don’t need Jenna taking my picture and sending it to strangers.

“Nice meeting you, Jenna.” I bend down and pat Chewy’s head again. “You too.” I point down the beach. “I’m going to continue my walk.” Alone.

“Oh.” Jenna turns bright pink. “Sorry. Sorry we bothered you.”

“No problem. Good luck with him.” I kick my way through the soft sand until my feet hit the wet packed-down stuff closer to the water.

It’s time to head home.