Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 (7 page)

"I've taken up enough of your time. I should go. Students will be arriving tomorrow and I need to get myself acquainted with my surroundings."

Then my brain catches up. "Oh, Daniel. What Willow was saying before, when you walked in, pay her no mind. She's harmless, a little outspoken but harmless. I’ve known her almost my whole life. She's actually quite a catch."

Daniel makes his way to the door. He glances over his shoulder at me, his amber eyes reaching my blue ones.

"I’m sure she is, Ms. Hannum, but she's not the catch I had in mind. ’Bye for now." He walks out the door.

Holy shit.

I’m sweating. I mean I’m actually perspiring. What the hell was that? Why do I feel the need to seriously go into my work bag and pull out my stick of deodorant? My headache is gone but I feel a bit dizzy. I don’t remember ever responding this way to someone from a first conversation. Is it just because I don’t remember or have I never responded in that way? My phone buzzes beside me. It's a text from Willow.

if you need a change of panties, I have a whole bag filled with them and they’re yours for the taking.

I reply back.

I’m fine you royal pain in my ass. my panties are just fine.

oh really? funny ’cause actually my panties are dry because I’m not the sucker for accents. in case you forgot, which I’m sure you did, you're the one. see ya later :)

Oh, shit. I am, aren't I? I think I just remembered something. I rub my temples and squirm in my seat. Shit, I do need a change of panties! What the hell?

It's going to be a very long year.

CHAPTER 4

Now what...

Cruz~

Walking away from her that day at the cafe was almost as hard as it was the day I walked out of her hospital room for the last time. When Porter called to tell me Harlow wanted to see me, I felt a glimpse of hope. That lasted about twenty seconds. The meeting wasn't meant for me to think she regained her memory and she remembered she loved me. She wanted to thank me. To
thank
me. She never has to thank me for anything. She is the love of my life. What was I going to do? Just let her lay there in a coma and not give a shit? Not even the old me would've done that.

When I saw her, all I wanted to do was take her in my arms, hold her tiny body, and tell her over and over again how much I loved her. I knew I couldn't do that. She's not the Harlow I knew. I mean, don't get me wrong, everything about her is my Harlow, my Turnip. Her eyes, her smile, her hair, her freckles. Just not her mind or her heart.

So what did I do when I got home? Drank a fifth of Jack and watched
“Some Like it Hot”.

Pussy, right? Yea, well maybe. I didn't even give it much thought when I took out Morty and tried to spank it to Marilyn Monroe. Whiskey dick is the term they use and it described me. Perfectly.

If I keep drinking the way I am, my blood is going to be nothing but pure amber liquid. Fuck,
when
will this feeling go away?

My stomach is turning and my palms are in a constant state of perspiration. My heart races and I know I’m having a panic attack. I know I am. This is normal, right? To feel like I’m going out of my mind. Maybe I need meds. Maybe I need someone like Dr. Goldberg. I can no longer sit still. I can't stay in this shit-hole apartment and keep thinking about her ’cause she's the reason I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. I grab the bottle of Jack off the table. It's so easy to just take a swig from the bottle rather than pour it in the glass. I think my mind must think the effects of the alcohol make it into my system faster if I do it this way. See, my mind - all fucked up. I need to get the fuck out of here. I need a change of scenery.

***

I travel down the boardwalk. My feet not steady. I could very well get arrested for public drunkenness. Wouldn't that be a hoot? Me, a cop, arrested. As I walk, I see the souvenir shops, the ice cream stands, the arcades. People strolling by, looking at me. Are they looking at me? Dumb fuckers. Can't they understand a man in pain? Don't they realize I’m just a body floating around with nothing else? We used to walk along this boardwalk, her and I. We used to hang with the gang and ride the rides, and eat every kind of junk food that was available to man on these boards. Cotton candy was her favorite. The pink flavor as I recall. Sugary and sweet just like her, and it smelled like her, too. I am absolutely torturing myself by being on this boardwalk. I’m suddenly whipped out of my memories when some jerk hits my shoulder as I walk along, almost spinning me around from the force.

"Watch where you're going, fuck face." I hear him say to me. I turn, seeing three of him and I sway but by him calling me a fuck face makes me sober up just a bit, enough to go up to his face.

"Who you calling a fuck face, you ugly mother fucker? Why don't
you
watch where you're going?"

He gets into my face so we are nose to nose. I’m no stranger to this sort of confrontation.

"Who you calling ugly, you drunk? You smell like a fucking bar. Look at you. Fucking loser." His words cut at me like some kind of knife.

"Loser? Really? You wanna call me that again? I fucking dare you." I’m so close to this guy’s face I can feel him breathing on me. I shove at his shoulders. He stumbles a bit. His body is big like mine and his friends quickly surround us. I don't have anyone, just me. When I continue with the swaying they begin to laugh. That's when I take my swing but my arm only feels wind as it sails past his face and I lose any sort of balance. I don't fall. I just whirl around. Now I pissed him off.

I’m fucked.

I don't think I even feel the sting, feel the pain. All I feel are knuckles landing on my face, and in one second I’m on the ground. Shaking my head, I realize this asshole just knocked me to the ground and I can't get up. I can't even move. My drunken mind and weak muscles won't allow me to. Then they all laugh ’cause all I can do is sit here. There is a crowd of people around us. In my haze I see them pointing at me, I hear the words “loser” and “drunk”, and no one helps me. I’m left on the ground as they walk away. I don't go after the guy, I stay where I am, I stay who I am. The loser drunk who just got his ass handed to him on Sandy Cove's boardwalk.

Fucking loser.

I need to get away and do what I plan to do, as painful as it is going to be. I need to make her fall in love with me again. My fear—my worst fear—is that it may be too late and she'll never remember, and she’ll fall in love with someone else. I can't let that happen. I can't let another man love her, touch her, get into her heart. I need to leave here. I need to escape. I need my Turnip back. But, how?

***

When I pull into the driveway of my brother’s house, I see my sister-in-law, Bella, pulling my one-year-old nephew, Matteo, around in a wagon. I see him clapping his hands and laughing as she moves the wagon quickly across the lawn. God, to be so carefree without worries or knowing what heartache is. I wish I were like that now. I used to be.

I get out of the car and walk up the pathway to the front of their house. Bella looks up and smiles then it fades into a frown. She picks Matteo up from inside the wagon and greets me.

"Nice, Raph. Black eye and you look like a pile of dog shit."

I snicker. She's right, I do, but I still snicker. "Thanks, Bella. Nice to see you, too." I take Matteo from her arms and he wraps his chunky little hands around my neck. I squeeze him and smother him with kisses.

Bella, still staring at me, points to the front door and tells me to go. Like a puppy dog, I follow her instructions and go inside.

When we get in the house, Bella tells me to sit at the kitchen table and I do with my nephew still in my arms. He traces my tattoos with his tiny fingers.

"What happened this time?" She goes into the freezer and retrieves an ice pack for my eye. She wraps a dish towel around it and places it on my eye. I hold Matteo with one hand and the ice pack with the other.

"Some asshole started with me on the boardwalk." She doesn't look surprised.

"And you were just doing nothing? He just came up to you and punched you in the eye? Come on. Really?"

I laugh, "Yea, really. I bumped into him or he bumped into me, I can't remember. He started mouthing off to me and I started right back."

Crossing her arms in front of her, looking unconvinced. "And that's all?"

"No," I say in a cocky tone.

"Well then. What happened after that?"

"I pushed him, then I tried to take a swing, and then he hit me."

Letting out a small chuckle, she makes her way back to the fridge and grabs a bottle out for Matteo. She hands it to him and he grabs it and swigs back the milk like I do with bottle of Jack.

"Well, I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like after he hit you."

I stay silent, just holding onto Matteo and staring at the table.

"You hit him back, right, Raph?" Bella asks me.

I shake my head.

"I see. Why not?"

I don't want to tell her that I was too bombed to get up and finish what was started, but I have an idea she already knows.

"This can't go on and you know it. Look at you. You are way too thin, you have so much baggage under your eyes that Tony and I can pack them and fly off to Europe. You drink way too much, and if you don't stop, you are going to lose your job, lose your apartment, and the next thing will be you not pursuing your degree."

She's right on all points, but I still argue with her.

"You know what, Bella? I don't need to hear about all the things I’m doing wrong right now. I have enough shit to worry about." Bella slams down her hand on the table.

"You're damn right you have a lot to worry about. Like all the things I just mentioned. And another thing, why come here looking like that if you didn't want to hear any bullshit? Look, Raph, I know it must be so hard for you losing Harlow the way you did, but we feel like we are losing you. Don't you think I have my spies out there in Sandy Cove reporting back to me about what you're up to? I know you get shit faced after every shift, I know you tried to see Harlow when she was there last week, I know you saw her. And don't even ask how I know all this ’cause I'll never reveal my mole."

I could probably name a few who would have the balls to report my antics to Bella, but I'll let it go. I know they mean well. Matteo strokes my face as he drinks his bottle and I smile down at him.

"Raph, yes, you once had something great. You finally found out what love was like and what it means, and you lost it, and I’m so very sorry for that, but did you ever stop to think about Harlow? My God, the girl is a walking miracle who woke up after six weeks in a coma to find a man she really didn't think all that much of kissing her and hugging her and telling her he loved her. Can you even imagine how scared she must have been?"

I hand Matteo back to her, and pace around the kitchen.

I’m not going to cry like a pussy, damn it.

"Yea, I think about it every day. Every waking minute of every day, Bella. But just when I discovered who I really was and what I really felt, it was too late. I fucked it up. I fucked us up. She was in that coma ’cause of me. I let her walk away. I didn't run after her. So do you know what it's like for me? To have to carry around that guilt everywhere I go. I pass by the accident site almost every day and I dream about how things could have gone differently. I wish I would've scooped her up and thrown her over my shoulder like a caveman. I would have shoved her in my patrol car and not let her out until I told her everything. But I didn't and this feeling I can't get rid of, the gnawing in my stomach, will never go away!"

Now, tears. Damn pussy I am. I pull at my hair and spin facing away from Bella because I don't want to cry in front of her. My heart is racing. My skin crawling with perspiration and I itch. I try to swallow but my throat is so dry. Dear God, help me.

"But you didn't and you can't go back and change things. No matter how much you say should have or could have. It. Didn't. Happen."

Bella comes to me and places her hand on my shoulder and turns me around. When she looks at me, she gasps and tears form in her eyes.

"Oh, Raphael. Don't you understand that on that day the only reason you left her was because of your job? You didn't let her go because you were defeated and didn't want to chase after her, you had a job to do."

I did have a job to do. I couldn't have just said fuck it.

"And there was no way in hell you could have known there was going to be an accident. We may never know the truth as to why she got on that boat and what happened once she was on it. She doesn't remember and the bastard won't tell the truth. This was not your fault."

I rest my head on her shoulder and cry. Cry for my loss, cry for the pain Harlow has had to go through. I cry for the death of the love I found without even looking for it.

Bella hugs me with my nephew still in her arms. "But you can't give up hope that one day she will remember what you had. Her mind will wake up and she'll know. You have to have hope, Raphael. You have to hold on to some kind of hope."

I swipe at my face, ridding myself of these ridiculous tears.

"You can do one of two things here, Raph. One, move on. Which I don't really think you'll do. And two, you can fight the biggest fight of your life, bigger than any war you have fought in, do anything and everything in your power to make your way back into her life. You are a fighter and honestly, I'd be disappointed if you didn't fight
for her
."

With her words, I know I need to sober up, fight for her, be there for her. I need to let her heal but I also need her in my life. It's going to hurt like hell, but like Bella says, I have to hold on to some kind of hope.

CHAPTER 5

I Have a New Found Love For Ice Cream

Harlow~

With the end of September and an Indian summer still upon us, I wish to hell this school had air conditioning. These long skirts I wear to cover my scars are not helping with my perspiration as I teach in this eighty-degree classroom. I bought two fans to help circulate the air, but it doesn't help much, and tonight the school is holding a Back To School Ice Cream Social in our cafeteria.