“No,” he interrupts. “I have been instructed not to allow you to contact the Young Master or relay any messages.”
A groan of frustration leaves me before I can stop it, and I grip my hair, tugging lightly.
“Bullshit,” I mutter.
“Julian,” Oscar says, and I lift my gaze to meet his. Surprisingly, he’s looking at me with a mixture of pity and what borders on respect. “I’ll protect him. I promise you.”
With that, he shuts the trunk and gets back in his car before pulling away from the curb.
I watch his taillights until they disappear in the afternoon sun. Turning back toward the house, I find my father watching me from the front door.
With a frown, he turns and disappears inside.
I had to get out of the house.
I know it might be wrong to ditch my dad, or to let him sit in his own anger and misery, but I can’t stand the silence. The reminder of what he’s done.
Of what I’ve lost.
So instead, I walk a mile into town and find that same coffee shop I went to when I first decided to explore.
It’s still chilly outside; with it only being the beginning of the year, the weather has yet to warm, and Port Orford never truly loses its gloomy vibe.
As I slip into the heated air of the coffee shop, Ground Central, I rub my palms together, doing my best not to shiver. The barista working is different than last time, though I doubt she’d remember me if she saw me again.
“Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asks, and I do my best to smile.
“A hot Americano, please.”
“Sure thing. Tap here, and your order will be out soon.” He flips the white, portable kiosk around, and I select my tip amount and pay.
Once again, I’ve ordered a drink I do not like. Not that I’m here toenjoythe coffee; I just need a distraction.
And luckily, as I make my way to the other end of the counter to wait, a distraction calls out to me.
“Julian! Hey!”
My eye darts around until I find the source of the voice, spotting Cassie and Cameron sitting at a four-person table in the back.
“Your drink,” the barista says, setting the mug on the counter.
“Thanks.”
Grabbing the drink, I make my way to where my ‘friends’ sit.
“Hey, guys,” I greet, sitting across from Cassie.
“Jesus. What happened to you?” she asks, her fingertips touching her own face where I know the gauze sits on my own.
“Oh,” I start, nervously looking between the two of them. I haven’t considered what I’d say to people. “Uh, I ran into a wild dog. It bit me.”
I can’t tell if they believe me, but Cassie grimaces, shaking her head. “That’s horrible. Are you recovering well?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I take a sip of my bitter coffee. “How are you guys?”
“Good! Just working and hanging out. Kimberly just got a new job, so we were thinking of throwing a party,” Cassie rambles.
My uncovered eye drifts to Cameron, who’s staring at his own drink absentmindedly.
