AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Good fucking luck with that, Melody.
I drain the last of my coffee as other demons begin to claw their way to the front of my psyche.
I need to meet my guy and re-up my…prescriptions, so to speak. And maybe get some groceries and toiletries while I’m over there. But what I definitely need to do is check in with Cliff and have him prepare the nuclear-level NDA that’s going to land on Melody’s front door.
She doesn’t have shit in the way of evidence. But I need to be sure I squash the rumors, too.
Three very wet hours later,my pockets and a backpack thoroughly stuffed with federally criminalized narcotics, prescription pills, some toiletries, a couple groceries, and more alcohol than a human should possibly consume in a week, I head back to the docks.
It’s still raining, but it seems to have momentarily lightened up enough that getting home will just suck instead of being impossible.
Albert, who was missing in action when I first pulled up—probably because it was raining likehell—is back at his post, under the overhang outside the door to the dock offices. He looks up and smiles as I walk past, nodding his chin at me. I nod back as I head towards my boat.
“Always nice to have family visiting, isn’t it?”
I pause, my brow furrowing as I glanced back at him.
I’m…casually conversational with most people in this town. Of course, “conversational” is a matter of perspective. It’s more that they feel comfortable talking to me, and I feel comfortable pretending I can’t talk at all.
The long sleeves go a long way with covering the tattoos. The scruffy chin covers the jawline some people might recognize from album covers or billboards. The baseball hats, or the fishing cap, or any number of beanies I wear, coupled frequently with sunglasses, do the rest.
And not talking? That’s because, and I don’t really give a fuck if this comes off as conceited, but I do have a fairly famous voice.
Like,veryfamous.
And even if the fine people of Cape Harbor aren’t big rock ‘n’ roll fans, I’ve always gotten the impression that a Liverpool accent—a.k.a. “the Beatles voice”—would stick out like on the coast of Maine like, well, a fucking Beatles voice.
However, at the moment, I sorely wish I wasn’t “nonverbal”. Because I would love to know what the fuck Albert is really talking about, and I’d love to ask him with more than my eyebrows.
Said eyebrows raise questioningly at him in any case. But Albert just smiles and nods.
“You just missed her. I mean by maybe ten minutes. Damn, Robbie, I didn’t realize she was your niece yesterday when she rented the boat!”
What. The. Fuck.
“I’d have driven her over myself if I knew she was coming, buddy,” Albert smiles at me. “You know, while she’s here, you might want to get her some boating lessons. Seems like she’s more of a city type, but if she’s going to keep going back-and-forth between town and your place, might be that she needs some lessons.” He glances up at the sky. “Especially in this soup. When you head back over, just make sure she knows it might be best to stay put for the rest of the night.”
My pulse thuds. My eyes narrow. And I slowly turn to stab my gaze across the water to my island.
“When you head back over just make sure she knows…”
I grind my teeth.
That implies—no, that boldlystates—that Melody is in factbackon my fucking island.
I was ready to let this go with the atomic non-disclosure agreement that was going show up on her doorstep this evening.
But now?
Now, this is fucking war.
17
Melody
Shit.
It takes me longer—much longer—then it should to find my phone once I’m inside.
