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He sucks in a tight breath. “That, I am reminded of every damn day.”
My stomach sinks. He didn’t leave. I have to remember that I haven’t been living in this town like Colt. I left most of its cruelty behind.
He rubs harshly at his weary, tormented eyes. “I’m an asshole.” Regret etches the words. “You can tell her that.”
“You can tell her,” I say, “and being an asshole isn’t an excuse for—”
“I get that, Zo,” he cuts me off, looking too pained, too tortured to dig into any harder. He searches the room for someone. And I realize he’s trying to find October. Probably to apologize. Colt can be fiery and bitter, but he has a good heart underneath the toughened layers of self-preservation.
Parry frowns. “October left?”
I mutter, “Yeah.”
Colt flinches in shock. His gaze softens on me, and he studies the fur coat. “Maybe she does love you.”
I hate how much his words hurt. I hate how I can still smell her on me. And I hate how I don’t want to stop thinking about her.
“You didn’t answer me,” I say quietly. “What’s going on with all of this?” I approach the disorderly wall of maps and Sharpie marks. Circles. Lines.
I can barely make sense of it—except for the map of Mistpoint Harbor. The red circle around the lighthouse. The map of Lake Erie extending up the wall with numbers printed and scribbled. Latitudes. Longitudes.
“It doesn’t concern you,” Colt says, hopping to his feet. He’s unsteady, wobbly. Parry catches him underneath his armpit so that he doesn’t trip. I notice the half-empty bottle of rum on the end table.
“You’re drunk,” I realize.
“My little sister comes back to a cursed town,” Colt says, swaying a little but maintaining balance like someone who’s skilled on sailboats pitching at rough seas. “There’s no better moment to drink.”
He drank before he knew I was even here.
Parry slips him a look. “Not like you need a reason these days, Colt.”
Colt laughs bitterly. “True…” He slaps Parry’s chest. “Very true.” He reaches the couch and sinks down tiredly. Is he even eating? His rib bones protrude in a way that gnaws concern through my own body.
“Can I grab you some food?” I ask and rifle through the pizza boxes. Empty. I open another. Moldy. “Colt.”
He’s swigging from the bottle of rum. “Zoey.” He licks liquor off his lips. “My little sister…coming back to town…” He’s lost in his head.
Parry and I exchange a worried look, and while he steals the rum from Colt—my brother putting up zero fight—I find a trash bag and clean the shit in here. Tossing the pizza boxes. The Fizz cans and empty chip bags.
Parry sets the rum bottle on a worn trunk near the door. “I’ll go get some food from the Pelican. I have t-t-t-ttto tell Brian I’m missing my shift anyway.”
“Oooh Brian won’t like that.” Colt kicks his feet up on the couch and pinches his eyes closed. “Careful, Pear, he might spank you.”
Parry has no response. He’s avoiding Colt’s eyes, but Colt isn’t opening them and looking at his best friend. Not even as my brother continues, “One of these days you’ll both just hate fuck and get it out of your systems.”
My eyes widen.
Parry tenses. “Well…we did kiss and that solved nothing, so I doubt fucking him will do much.”
Colt opens one eye. “…you’re screwing with me?”
Parry shakes his head.
“When?”
“Last night.”
Colt closes his eyes, looking both tired but somehow relaxed.
“That’s all?” Parry asks.
“Long time coming, man.”
He shakes his head harder. “No it’s not. I’ve hated Brian.”
“We all hate Brian,” Colt proclaims.
“I still hate Brian.”
“Then go hate-kiss again until you hate-fuck each other and get back to me with that.” He rubs his head like it’s pounding. He reaches for a bottle and swipes air. We’ve repositioned all the alcohol out of his grabby drunk hands.
Parry mutters under his breath. “I’d say that’ll only happen in hell but I’m not spending the afterlife with that bastard.” He looks to me. “Want anything specific for lunch?”
I shake my head, and he motions with a tilt of his own head towards my brother. I’m picking up Parry signals. Get Colt to talk to me. Mission acquired.
I give him a nod.
Parry opens the broken door. “Later, Colt.”
“See ya, man.”
He leaves.
Colt ignores me. Purposefully, I’m sure.
I plop down on a worn club chair. Stuffing peeks from the plaid material. “Yesterday, I thought Parry and Brian were on worse terms…” I try and make small talk. “I guess Parry says nothing has changed even though they…kissed.” I’m still in shock.
I didn’t see it coming.
I couldn’t have. I’ve been gone.
Colt keeps his eyes closed as he says, “If giving you the run-down of what happened here will get your ass out of town, I can give you the CliffsNotes version. All the juicy gossip here at Mistpoint handed to you on a silver platter.”
