Page 26 of Spring Break Fling

As soon as Jessie disappeared into the back, I unlocked the door and opened it just enough to step outside.

“Zip,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Hey, kid,” my dad said, his grin wide and fake. “You look good.”

“What do you want?”

He glanced past me into the shop, nodding appreciatively. “This your place? Looks good. Real professional.”

“It’s Marcus’s,” I said. “I work here. And I asked what you wanted.”

Zip’s eyes flicked to the Harley parked at the curb. “Nice bike. Yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Bet it rides like a dream,” he said. “You should see the rust bucket I’ve been riding. Burns more oil than it does gas.”

“Sounds like you need a new bike,” I said flatly. “Or a tune-up.”

“Funny you should mention that,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m in a bit of a bind.”

Here we go.

My father’s entire life was a bind if you listened to him tell the story.

“What kind of bind?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. I didn’t actually care. I didn’t want to hear it. There would be another sob story. Everyone was out to get him. He was the perpetual victim.

“Nothing major,” he said, waving a hand. “Just a couple grand. Some people are breathing down my neck. You know how it is.”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “Because I don’t spend money I don’t have.”

His grin faltered. “Come on, Nikko. Just this once. I only need about two thousand. I know you’ve got it. That bike ain’t cheap.”

I snorted. “You’ve said ‘just this once’ at least five times now. I’m done. Figure it out. I’m not your fucking ATM.”

“Nikko,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I’m in real trouble this time.”

“That’s not my problem. You were in trouble last time. You’re always in fucking trouble. You ever think how fucked up it is you keep coming to your son to bail your ass out? Get your shit together, old man.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. For a moment, I thought he might actually leave. But then he gave me that look—the one he’d used on me since I was a kid, the one that said, You owe me, and you know it.

I hated that look.

With a frustrated sigh, I turned and went inside, heading for the register.

“You’re lucky Marcus isn’t here,” I muttered as I pulled out the two grand in cash. He was damn lucky today had been so fucking busy and I hadn’t dropped the cash yet. “If he found out I was doing this, I’d be out on my ass.”

Zip’s face lit up as I handed him the money. “Thanks, kid. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “In fact, don’t call me at all.”

He pocketed the cash, patting me on the shoulder. “You’re a good son, Nikko.”

“Don’t push it.”

He chuckled and walked away, whistling like he didn’t have a care in the world.

I locked the door behind him and let out a sigh of relief.