Page 98 of Spring Break Fling

“That’s your problem,” I spat. “Not mine. When they want to send a message, they can send it to you.”

He paled slightly, but one of his friends piped up. “We’re family, Nikko. Family looks out for each other.”

“Family?” I barked a laugh. “You don’t want a family. You want a cash machine. Newsflash: I’m not paying a dime of your debts. You dug this hole. You can crawl out of it on your own. Get fucking jobs! Clean your shit up. Look around!”

The silence that followed was heavy. My old man’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to his friends.

I stepped closer, dropping my voice. “You have one chance to clean this up. One. I’m not going to bail you out again. And if anyone comes looking for me, they’ll regret it.”

My father’s friend in the corner spoke up, his voice low and gravelly. “Those guys mean business, Nikko. They don’t play around.”

I turned to him. “Neither do I.”

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. My father stared at me, his eyes a mix of anger and something else. Respect? Fear? I couldn’t tell.

“You think you’re tough?” he finally said. “You have no idea what tough is.”

“I’m tough enough to walk away,” I said. “And that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

As I turned to leave, his voice followed me. “Nikko, wait.”

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

“You don’t understand,” he said, his tone almost pleading. “They’ll come back. They’ll come after you again. There’s nothing I can do to stop them. You don’t know who these people are. They are serious. Like real bad stuff. I’m worried they’ll kill you or make you wish you were dead.”

I finally faced him, shaking my head. “Since when have you ever given a damn about protecting me? You’re on your own, old man. Good luck.”

And with that, I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I couldn’t say I felt good, but I felt better. Like I finally closed a door that had been letting in a cold draft for too long. In a weird way, I loved my father. But he was sucking me dry. He was draining the life from me. I couldn’t live with him dragging me down. And time and time again he proved to me that no matter how many times I pulled him out of the gutter, he crawled right back in.

I climbed on my bike and took one last look at the house that had shaped me. I didn’t know if I’d be back. I had no idea what would happen to my father without me around to bail him out, but I had to cut the cord.

He was on his own.

I started the engine and sped away. The longer I rode, the clearer things became. I drove to the shop. It was strange not to get up and go to work every day. The shop was like a second home but I had been evicted. I spent plenty of time being angry and bitter about Marcus firing me. It wasn’t his fault. He was doing what he had to do to protect his business. I would do the same.

Jessie was organizing ink bottles, Diego was cleaning his station, and Marcus was flipping through a tattoo magazine.

“Hey,” I said, walking in.

They all looked up, clearly surprised to see me. I had gone underground the last week and avoided all of their phone calls and texts.

Diego immediately noticed the tension in my shoulders. “Rough morning?”

“You could say that,” I replied, leaning against the counter. “Listen, I need to tell you guys something.”

Jessie’s eyes narrowed. “If this is about Samantha, I swear to God⁠—”

“It’s not about her,” I interrupted. “It’s about me. I’m leaving town for a while.”

The room fell silent.

“What?” Jessie said, her voice rising an octave. “You can’t just leave!”

“I need a break,” I explained. “A change of scenery. Let this whole mess with my dad and his debts blow over. I’ll be back… eventually.”

Diego crossed his arms, his face unreadable. “Where you heading?”

“Not sure yet,” I admitted. “Just need to clear my head.”