SIXTEEN
I left the restaurant and Bella in a hurry, furious at myself for letting my guard down. It was the first time since I’d left San Diego that I’d allowed myself to even be friends with someone and I was being dismissed. I jumped on my bike and pedaled hard, swearing the entire way back to the house. I was livid, but not with her and not with the asshole who’d beaten her up. I was angry with myself. I was alone and I didn’t need to do anything to change that. Including getting involved with her.
I was breathing hard and my legs burned as I turned into the cul-de-sac.
Zip was sitting in my driveway.
And everything else fell away.
I stopped the bike at the edge of the driveway, trying to compose myself. He looked up and held up a lazy hand in greeting, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He squinted at me, his lips stretched into a thin smile as he sucked on the cigarette. “Hey, Noah.”
My chest heaved and I stepped off the bike. I walked it past him and rested it against the side of the house. I tried to catch my breath as I walked back to him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again.
He ambled slowly to his feet, the green tank top and long cargo shorts hanging loosely on his skinny frame. He took a long drag on the cigarette, then pulled it from his lips.
“Just wanted to check out your new digs,” he said, exhaling a long plume of smoke.
“How’d you find me?”
He pinched the cigarette between his fingers and took another drag, then let the smoke curl out of his mouth. “Yeah, I heard you might not want people finding you.”
I let my breathing settle. “I meant how'd you find where I live?”
He grinned again, exposing a mouthful of dirty teeth. “I just did some askin’ around, you know? Sort of like Mission Beach around here. Somebody new moves in, locals know. You know?”
I nodded. I despised the fact that a guy like Zip could make me feel so anxious. It was all I could do to not look over my shoulder and wonder who might be coming for me.
“After I saw you the other night, I just thought…you know, we could hang out,” he said, sucking the life out of the cigarette, the butt glowing bright orange. “Being old pals from SoCal and all.”
“We weren’t pals, Zip.”
He nodded, chuckling. “Right on. That’s true. But you know. That was all just business.”
Carter and I had helped shake Liz’s brother, Alex, free from a scam Zip was running. It was all business and we were about as far apart from being friends as two people could be.
“But I heard you had to get out of SoCal quick,” he said, eyeing me.
And there it was. The first time it had been mentioned since I’d left San Diego in the middle of a driving storm. I killed Liz’s killer, buried him in the desert and the storm had washed his body up. There was nothing left for me in San Diego and I’d taken off. Part coward, part self-preservation. I’d done the best I could to hide, to stay out of sight, to wait for Carter to tell me it was okay to come back. If I wanted to go back.
And now I was being outed by a small-time drug dealer who I never thought I’d see again.
“I don’t know what you heard,” I said.
The cigarette twitched between his lips and he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, man. None of my business. Just heard you had to get out of San Diego.”
Which meant he’d gone checking up on me after I’d seen him at the laundromat and probably stirred up people and things I didn’t need stirred up.
“Well, I’m here now,” I said. “Not sure what you heard. But, I’m here now.”
He chuckled and flicked the butt into the street. “Yes, you are. Crazy, huh?”
“So why’d you come by?”
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Ah, no reason. Just wanted to see what was up.”
The idea of snapping his neck and tossing him in the bay crossed my mind. No one would miss a piece of crap like Zip. Just some degenerate who ran into a little bad luck.
But I squashed the thought.
I was not my father.
“Well, I got some stuff to do,” I said.
He made a show of stepping to the side in order to let me walk up the drive. “Oh, right on, man. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna keep you. Just wanted to say hey, see if you wanna hang out some time.”
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s hang out some time.”
“Cool. Now that I know where you live, we can make it happen.”
I turned around and the same ugly smile spread across his face. My heart beat fast, but it wasn’t from the bike ride. A guy like Zip didn’t come by to hang out. He came by to find me, to see what he could dig up.
Or to pass on the information.
“Absolutely,” I said through my teeth. “Sounds good.”
He nodded, pleased with himself, backing up down the driveway into the street. “I’ll be in touch, brother.”
He turned and walked out of the cul-de-sac, the sun disappearing with him as he turned the corner and out of sight.
SEVENTEEN
I didn’t sleep.
I didn’t just toss and turn. I literally laid there the entire night and didn’t shut my eyes, trying to figure out what to do.
Zip had thrown me. I thought I had mentally prepared myself for any and all scenarios once I left San Diego, but it was clear that I’d been fooling myself. Zip was small time and I knew I could handle him, if needed. But the fact that his presence had so unnerved me told me a lot about my frame of mind.
I knew I couldn’t hide forever and I honestly wasn’t sure what I was hiding from. I didn’t want to go to jail and I didn’t think that I deserved to. Ridding the earth of Keene was anything but a crime. But I knew that there were at least two San Diego police detectives who thought differently.
I’d chosen to run. Not just from the fallout from my actions, but from the memories haunting me. Only problem was, they'd followed me. And now it looked like the rest of what I'd left behind was following me, too.
I was living my life afraid of everyone and everything, unsure of what each day was going to bring.
Right at that moment, it felt like it was going to bring me a heart attack and I didn’t like it.
At some point, I was going to have to face whatever consequences were coming my way for avenging Liz’s death. I guess I was just hoping that I could be the one who chose when and how I faced them.
I finally crawled out of bed with the sun, threw on some clothes and grabbed the bicycle.
The sun was still waking, low and soft on the horizon as I pedaled over the bridge and into Fort Walton proper. The streets were quiet and I pulled up in front of a small coffee shop wedged between an art gallery and a used clothing store. I leaned the bike against the building and went inside.
The aroma of fresh coffee hit me like a crashing wave and I inhaled it, letting it filter into my senses. I bought a small cup at the counter and the kid took my money with one hand while tapping out a text message with the other.
There were only two other customers in the shop. An older gentleman engrossed in the
A small, wooden bar ran the length of the wall opposite the counter, two computers sitting idly. I’d found the
