Return to Yesterday: Broken by the Sea, #2

Ava Wood

Return to Yesterday

Ava Wood

Copyright © 2016 by Ava Wood

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Cover Art: Anotonio Guillem

Designed by: Woodward Photography

Edited by: Red Road Editing Services

Formatted by: J. Laslie

For my mom. You’ve never left my side.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Coming Soon!

July before senior year

Missy, get in here, my dad called from the living room just before the doorbell rang. He'd been anxiously awaiting the arrival of his latest girlfriend, Lorraine, and from the sound of the doorbell, I was guessing she had arrived.

Lorraine and my father had been dating for a couple of months. They met at my dad's telemarketing job across town on her first day and he had the pleasure of showing her around. During one of his bouts of sobriety he'd confessed that the first time he saw her, he thought she was too good for him, but he had to ask her out anyway. He never thought Lorraine would say yes, but by some miracle she had. Apparently, she was getting over a really bad breakup, so she wanted to be very careful where her daughter was concerned. It didn't matter to me, because I never thought they would last long enough for us to ever meet, but they did and today was the day they decided I should meet Lorraine's daughter, Jennie.

All I'd wanted to do was go on a job hunt, maybe drop off some resumes and hopefully get some face time with management so I might get a foot in the door. I spent most of my morning preparing for that and not caring about this little get-together. After hours of dreading Lorraine and Jennie's arrival, I was less than excited as I trudged to the living room.

Other than the occasional drunken outburst from my father, my life had been pretty quiet. I spent most of my time avoiding him and keeping to myself. After all, I no longer had anyone I could really turn to.

When I lived in Kansas, I always had Karley to lean on. She’d been the cement in my foundation when life started to get a little muddy. Then came Adam. He’d been my everything, but after he dumped me, I didn’t want any association with anything or anyone in Kansas, including Karley. It was all just a reminder of what I no longer had and I couldn’t take the pain. Because of my resentment for Adam, my current friendship status with Karley was nonexistent.

With everyone who had once cared about me now out of my life, my reality was a lonely one. I’d finally forced my way to becoming nonexistent at school, but it wasn’t all I’d thought it would be. Sure, it kept me from having to divulge my dirty little secrets or becoming the headlining gossip of the halls of Central High, but being nonexistent meant that I had no one to turn to. No one to confide in or lean on or even share a pleasant conversation with. I wasn’t asking to spill my guts to anyone ... there was no way in hell I could trust anyone enough to actually do that again, but confining myself to a life of solitude quickly became depressing.

I’d needed someone objective to fill the vast void that had developed, a warm body to curl up next to for an hour or so. Someone I could share a few affable words with before sending them on their way. Just long enough for a fix, but not long enough to ask questions or get involved in every sordid detail of my life. I’d let the vulnerable and somewhat needy Missy walk out with Adam and I refused to let her seep back into the Missy I’d now created: a gaping, hollow shell.

Because of this mutation I’d become, I wasn’t really ready to accept anyone new into my personal life, but it didn’t seem I had a choice. My father had insisted that I meet, and become friends with Jennie. After spending time with Lorraine, I'd assumed Jennie couldn't be that bad, but I just didn't want to open up to anyone anymore.

Of my own design, my life consisted of school, solitude, and the occasional hookup when I needed something to distract me. Something that could keep my mind off of always being alone, off of the fact that Adam no longer wanted me in his life. Was I proud of who I’d become? Hardly. But human connection was a necessity for anyone to keep some form of sanity.

Even if I wasn't interested in a girlfriend, maybe having Jennie around wouldn't be so bad. After all, it wouldn’t hurt to have a wingman. If she was anything like her mother she had to be a knockout; flowing auburn hair with honey highlights, electric-blue eyes, and the fullest natural lips I'd ever seen. And let's not forget her mile-long legs and perfectly manicured fingers. My dad didn't deserve Lorraine, but he had become a lot more tolerable since they started dating.

When I rounded the corner, my father and Lorraine were saying their hellos with a petite girl standing behind them. She had her mother's blue eyes and perfectly manicured fingers, but that was where the similarities ended. Her hair was jet black and cut in a bob and her lips were thin and flat. And then there were her legs, which matched the rest of her body: short and thin. If I had to guess, I'd say she was around five-foot-two at the most and no more than thirteen years old.

Oh Missy, you look very nice, Lorraine doted. She was a kind woman, which made me wonder even more why she was with my father. If their relationship was lucky enough to last into marriage, I was definitely going with Lorraine after the divorce.

Thank you. I nodded my gratitude, cautiously stepping closer, hoping their plans for me to show around some middle schooler weren't still in the works.

Missy, this is my daughter, Jennie. She'll be a senior at Central this next year just like you.

My mouth fell open. Had I misjudged Jennie's age or was she a genius? I couldn't fathom that she was anywhere near eighteen years old.

Apparently, Jennie wasn't too impressed with me either. Her arms were tightly crossed against her chest and she barely even looked in my direction.

Your father said you were going job hunting today? Lorraine was still talking to me and I'd been so rude, barely responding.

Yeah ... I mean yes. Redirecting my gaze, I acknowledged Lorraine with a smile. I'm hoping to save up a little money before college, if it's not too late.

That's wonderful. Lorraine was all smiles as she not-so-nonchalantly nudged Jennie in my direction. Jennie hasn't decided on a college yet, have you?

A typical teenage eye roll was Jennie's reply. I chuckled under my breath, starting to like this girl. She had my kind of attitude, even if her mother didn't seem that bad.

Missy, do you think you could show Jennie around while you're out dropping off job applications? Certainly this development had been my father's idea.

Err ... I... I didn't have any idea how to refuse her request respectfully.

When my response wasn't quick enough, my father chimed in, She'd love to.

And I was stuck showing around a perfect stranger while trying to get a job. This was a sure-fire recipe for disaster. I returned to my room, ready to bang my head against a door or two, but thought better of it if I really wanted to get a job, so I grabbed the stack of resumes I'd left on my desk and returned to the party.

Well, I sighed, are you ready?

Jennie shrugged and followed me out of the house. This was either going to be a day from hell, in which case, what was new? Or it was going to be an eye-opening experience. I just hoped it wasn't both.

After filling out applications at several fast food joints, I decided to show Jennie a few of the sights around the downtown area. Jennie actually wasn't half bad to hang out with and she had a decent sense of humor when she got my jokes. She wasn't an uptight princess like I'd worried she might be. We talked about the student body and who had the coolest parties. I clued her in on the best teachers and classes at Central High and she told me stories about the last high school she'd attended. Conversation came pretty easy once our parents weren't around.

When our chat turned to our parents' exes, things grew tense and Jennie kind of closed herself off, seeming to quickly desire a change of subject. It didn't matter much to me, because I didn't want to pry, so I asked what she and her mom had been up to since they arrived. The two of them had been in the area for several months, but her mother had been so busy with work that they hadn't had a chance to really go exploring, hence their reasoning for me to give her the grand tour. We'd taken a short trip along the beach and were heading back home when I saw a marquis that said Now Hiring at an upscale little restaurant and bar just a few blocks from the beach.

Quickly, I pulled a U-turn and returned to the lot.

What are you doing? Jennie's hand was gripping the panic bar.

That place is hiring. I pointed to the restaurant as I pulled into their lot.

Jennie huffed and sank a little lower into her seat as I put the car in park.

Restaurants like that get great tips. I'll just be a second. Grabbing one of my resumes, I traipsed inside, taking in the look of the place.

It was called La Fleur, a French eatery with a provincial-style, stone facade. There was a quaint little patio with roughly ten four-top tables to the right, all adorned with lavish burgundy umbrellas angled in different directions and burnished bronze chairs. Paneled French doors in a dark-stain graced the front entrance.

I took a deep breath and walked inside, greeted by a whoosh of cool air. It was three on a Saturday afternoon so the place wasn't jumping, but there were still plenty of guests at the tables. Looking around, I saw chandeliers everywhere; in the foyer, over tables, and even in a hallway behind a sign that read Lavatories. Booths were covered in a white damask print while tables had white linen-covered chairs; very classy.

On my left was a sizable contemporary bar adorned with a white marble countertop and painted in the same burgundy as the umbrellas outside. It had miniature versions of the chandeliers in a row overhead. A pristine mirrored wall sat behind the large selection of spirits and wines. And just in front of that grand wall of alcohol stood a very attractive, very dexterous male. He moved between patrons with a fluidity that showed he'd had years of experience. After he had served a small glass of clear liquid to a tastefully dressed businesswoman, he turned his gaze on me and winked.

Completely off-guard, I scanned over my shoulders, certain that wink wasn't meant for me, but when I looked back at him and saw his smile widen, I was sure it was.

He looked charming in that bad boy sort of way; Caesar-style black hair, deep-set chocolate eyes, and a strong jaw with a copious amount of stubble. He had a stylish gold chain around his neck and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows revealing what must've been two entire sleeves of tattoos.

It was his magnetism that led me over to him, hoping he could assist me in delivering my resume to the proper staff member.

Hi. My voice sounded pathetically breathy.

Hey yourself, he countered after returning to mixing drinks.

Umm, his charisma had me mumbling. I wanted to...

Come flirt with the hot bartender? he interrupted.

I was in trouble. Not only was I uncharacteristically faltering, but I had started to feel a little desperate. My last fling had been weeks ago and I was growing weaker by the second. Impulsive giggling erupted as I tried again, I wanted to drop off my resume.

Lucky me, he continued flirting. His infectious smile spread across his face. Give me just a sec and I'll get you a manager.

Thanks.

After pouring a few more drinks, the bartender left his station and disappeared into the kitchen. I stood by the bar for several minutes before he returned, followed by a portly man with gray-streaked chestnut hair.

I'm the manager, Mr. Dubuque, the pint-sized man proclaimed.

Melissa Shaw, sir. My hand immediately extended and Mr. Dubuque shook it wholeheartedly.

Pleasure to meet you. Please, accompany me to the conference room while I look over your resume.

Completely shocked that he seemed to be interviewing me on the spot, I eagerly followed him. This place had to be a gold mine. And I was fairly certain I was way in over my head. There was a good chance I wouldn't even be able to pronounce a single item on the menu.

We entered the capacious conference room and took seats across from each other. For the first few minutes he mumbled to himself, but once he was satisfied, he began asking me various questions about my experience, my knowledge of foreign foods, and any special talents I might have that would contribute to this job, all to which I exaggerated copiously. After we'd gone through the usual interview inquiries, he proclaimed that I was a perfect candidate for the job and asked me how soon I could start. I was floored. When I woke up this morning, I'd never expected the day to go so well.

And then I remembered I'd left Jennie in the car during the entire process. I felt terribly guilty. Once I had made arrangements to start the next Monday, I quickly and politely as possible excused myself from Mr. Dubuque ready to spew my apologies to Jennie. As I began to pass the bar, I noticed she was sitting at a booth by herself.

How'd it go? the bartender stalled me as I made my way to Jennie's booth.

My nerves had settled immensely during the interview. Good. Smiling a little flirtatiously I announced, I got the job. Guess you'll be seeing a lot more of me now.

Proceeding to pour a glass of bourbon, he looked up at me and said, No complaints here. I was amazed at how comfortable he was behind the bar, and even more with flirting with me. I'm Marco by the way.

I'm Missy.

Can we go now? Jennie snuck up on me, startling me.

Oh, hey. Jennie, this is...

Marco. I know, she cut me off. So can we go?

Sure. Looking back at Marco I called, See you later.

Sure thing, cutie.

Smiling brightly, I followed a very perturbed Jennie out to the car. When we were both inside, I asked, What got into you?

Don't mess with him. He's bad news.

What? Who was she talking about and where in the world was this coming from?"

Marco. He's bad news. It's best not to get involved with him. Her tone was quite ominous.

Who said anything about getting involved, I chuckled, but if we happen to have a little fun together, what's the big deal?

That statement didn't seem to calm her nerves at all. Whatever. It's your life.

What does that even mean? Do you know him or something or is this just based on your observation of him in the last ten minutes?

Let's just say we knew each other in a past life. Jennie stared out of the window.

What the hell, Jennie? If you know something, tell me. I was growing impatient with her vagueness.

Fine. Her eyes were full of contempt. Our parents dated before we moved here, which meant I was forced to spend an uncomfortable amount of time with Marco. After a deep breath she continued, He isn't the nice guy he comes off as. Believe me. And when things didn't end well with our parents, I couldn't have been happier. I was glad to have him out of our life, both of them actually. She turned to stare out of the window again. My mom moved here trying to get away from both of them, but apparently they haven't quite gotten the hint.

Understood. Warning heeded. Laughing, I started our trip home.

Now that we got that out of the way... Jennie's shoulders visibly relaxed as she laughed half-heartedly. So, you haven't told me. Are there any boys at Central that I should know about?

My heart beat a little faster reminiscing my arrival at Central High when Adam Miller showed me the ropes. He'd been my friend when I had honestly wanted nothing more than to be invisible, and he'd been my savior when my father's drinking got out of control and he'd gotten violent with me after our prom date. His family had actually helped my father get sober, though it was short-lived, and I knew I would always be thankful to them, but I'd completely cut all ties with that family when Adam told me good-bye.

It just so happens that his goodbye happened to come at one of the worst points in my life. I'd given up everything because I just couldn't seem to care anymore. It was easier for me to drop everything that mattered to me and just dissolve into the madness that constantly consumed my life. I'd quit basketball, slacked off in my studies, and dropped my social life like none of them ever even mattered. There was no escaping my destiny. Insanity and addiction were in my family. I was bound to catch it one day.

Missy? I'd been so lost in my own thoughts, I'd forgotten to answer. When I glanced in her direction she asked, Where'd you go?

Sorry. Nowhere. Clearing my throat, I began listing off the boys of any real value at Central High. Let's see, if we're talking guys that are on the market, there's Erik Lambert, who's the starting wide receiver and captain of the football team. There's Lucas Davies. He's pretty hot, but I hear he's a big player. Then there's Shane Lattimer, who is quite possibly the most popular guy in our class, mostly for his money but he's not bad to look at. Oh, and I can't forget Dante Long. He's known for his crazy parties that never get broken up. Apparently his parents go away every weekend and since he lives in the country with, like, no neighbors he can do whatever he wants. If you're into the party scene, he's the guy to know.

I'd honestly never talked to a single one of them, but I didn't care to tell her that. Talking to anyone at school would require me to open up to the vulnerable Missy and that wasn't going to happen. My social life solely existed outside of school and any hookups I had were with guys that I met online or at the club when I needed an escape. I'd scored a pretty great fake I.D. a few months back and put it to good use anytime I needed to drown in loud music and dancing. No one cared if you were drunk, stoned, or crazy in the club, and with my developing curves it wasn't hard to find someone to take me home.

As Jennie contemplated her options, we pulled into my driveway and I saw the door to Lorraine's car was open.

What’s going on? Jennie asked me.

So forgetfulness was not on a list of her mother's qualities. I don't know.

We both climbed out of my car and immediately heard yelling in my house.

What the hell? I started racing for the front door, wondering what was going on.

Who are you? Where's the Dean I grew to love these last few months? I could tell Lorraine was crying.

My dad's maniacal laughing followed. He sounded piss drunk and a slosh of alcohol away from turning violent. I'm sick of trying to be something I'm not. This is me. Get used to it.

"I will not get used to it. I will never ever again be with an alcoholic. I'm better than this."

I listened as Lorraine's heels marched across the living room tile.

Where do you think you're going? You're not leaving me again.

Again?

What are you talking about, Dean?

I'm tired of you leaving me every time things get hard, Deanna. It's time to grow up.

Oh no. I rushed into the house, well aware that my dad was too far gone and no longer aware of what he was even doing. When I came through the door, I knew Lorraine was two seconds away from asking who Deanna was, but she immediately calmed herself upon my entrance.

Oh, hi, Missy. Lorraine's shirt sleeve was ripped and her hair was a disaster. Would you mind giving your father and me a minute longer?

You don't understand, I started, but the look of pure shock on her face shut me up. She knew this wasn't the first time my dad had gotten loud.

You mean to tell me you subject your daughter to this? Where's your sense of responsibility? She's a child.

I resented the statement, but knew that she was only trying to stand up for me.

I can't do this. I won't live with a loud, insulting drunk. Not again. A single tear slipped down Lorraine's cheek. I can't believe this is happening again.

Jennie still hadn't come inside and I was glad, because I didn't want anyone else to witness my dad's stupid, selfish, drunken behavior. When Lorraine turned to walk outside, I grasped her hand to stop her.

Please don't go. Please. He's so much better with you. It was stupid. I was trying to help my father yet again and he didn't even deserve it. He'd never once done anything remotely close to the same for me.

Lorraine's eyes met mine, then closed as she bit her lip and turned away. As she walked out the door, her hand fell from mine and I panicked. I didn't want to be left to deal with my father alone. I was utterly sick of this.

Bursting out of the house, I trailed after her. Please, Lorraine.

She shook her head and moved to get in the car, but stopped long enough to look back at me and see the broken-hearted little girl who gave up on her father months before. How long has this been going on?

Why did she have to ask that? It was a question I’d stopped answering long ago, because I could no longer reply without breaking down. Please don't ask me that.

I already did, Missy. How long?

Collapsing, my back hit the exterior wall of the house and I sank to the ground. "I couldn't