Passion: A Single Dad Small Town Romance

by Bella Winters

  Mom sneers at me. “And how do you think you’ll cope without it? You think you’re so much better than me but you’ve been living off that money you’re whole life. You’ve benefitted so much and I really don’t think you’ll last.” She screws up her nose in disgust at me. “Look at you, you’re so lazy you haven’t even bothered to get a job yet. How will you cope when you have to? When you need the cash to pay bill?”

  “I’ll get a job,” I insist. Tears fill my eyes but I don’t let them fall. I will not allow this woman to see me cry no matter what. “Even if it’s waitressing. People do it all the time. I can do it too.”

  Mom laughs loudly as if the idea of me succeeding is ridiculous, which make my blood boil and my body burn. “You can’t do anything, Tia. The sooner you learn that the better. Maybe you’ll go and you’ll try but you’ll soon be back, begging for Daddy to pay everything again.”

  “Get out,” I spit angrily. “Get out, Mom. I don’t want you here, I don’t want to speak to you again.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She rolls her eyes and flicks her hair back. “Whatever, Tia. Honestly I can’t be bothered with you anymore. I came in here to try and look after you but clearly that’s not what you want, so whatever.”

  As she leaves I feel a tear rolling down my cheek. I don’t even bother to brush it away I just leave it there, reminding me that everything is falling apart. If I thought things were bad when college ended then I had no idea what was coming for me. Everything is a billion times worse now. My shitty family has fallen further apart, my friends are even more distant, Stephen is still nowhere to be seen…

  I think it’s time to accept that my dreams are never coming true. Maybe it’s time to start thinking about my life in a much more realistic way.

  Chapter Ten - Stephen

  Right, police today, interview tomorrow.

  Those words keep circling my brain as I move forwards. Police today, interview tomorrow. Put the past me right now and start on my future tomorrow. It’s not a bad plan, but something about it keeps twisting around in my gut. It’s almost as if I’m scared of it, but I don’t know why. Sure, I can still feel the prickles on the back of my neck as I move, but I’ve come to the conclusion now that it’s all just my paranoia. I’m sure once I’ve unloaded this weight, all will be done. I can go back to normal and reclaim my life.

  As my feet continue to go I try to plan what I’m going to say. I need to make it very clear to the cops that I’m not crazy so that they take me serious. I also need to find a way to ensure that my identity remains a secret, that part is vital. I’m sure the cops have some sort of policy where I can tell them things in secret. Right?

  “Stephen?” I hear a female voice call out from behind me, and for some reason my instincts tell me that it’s Tia. Even though I’ve tried to push her to the back of my brain as just another one night stand I can’t. She keeps coming back, no matter what I do. My heart lifts in my chest, excitement courses through me. If Tia has found a way back into my life then that will be a sign that everything is going to be okay. “Is that you?”

  But as I spin I realize that I’m wrong. It isn’t Tia at all, it’s the red head from the dive bar. I can’t remember her name, I don’t even think I know it. All I can remember, and the memory is admittedly very vague, is a quick shag in the stock room.

  “Oh right.” I shake my head to try and rid it of disappointment. “Hey.”

  “What’s going on?” she purrs, moving closer to me. “I haven’t seen you for a while. How was your trip?” I shrug, not trusting myself to speak. “I thought you were going to come and see me again afterwards.”

  “Oh right, I… I’ve just been very busy.” I’m stammering, I can barely string a sentence together. The only thing I can really concentrate on is getting to the police station and sticking to my original plan. “Sorry about that. Maybe at the weekend…”

  “Why don’t you come now?” She hooks her arm into mine and tugs me towards her. “I’m about to go and open up. We can have a good hour to ourselves if you like.”

  The old me would have jumped at the chance, but that me died on the ferry along with the man who got shot and thrown off the edge. “Oh I can’t, I have to be somewhere I need to.”

  “Where, baby?” she asks, leaning in close so her breath tickles my cheek. “Where you got to be that’s so important?”

  I don’t answer her because there’s no way in hell I want to get into the story with someone I barely know. Instead I shake my head and keep my lips squeezed tightly together.

  “Why don’t you come with me then?” She tugs on me harder, which suggests to me that she’s never going to let me go. “We don’t even have to do anything. We can just have a drink.”

  “I don’t want a drink at this time of the morning…” My words trail off as I realize that actually I do want a drink. Just to steady my nerves. It isn’t the best idea in the world, but it feels good to think about. I even lick my lips in desperation.

  “Come on.” The red head senses my weakness and she yanks me until I can’t help but follow her. I’m not really thinking much, I’m just going with the flow because I know it won’t really ruin my plan. Police today, interview tomorrow. That still stands. I’m just having a little moment first, some time to myself.

  “So, we’ve had a few bands in since you place,” the red head talks non-stop as we move. “But none as good as you. We’ve really missed you a lot, you know. Or at least I have.”

  “Hmm,” I comment idly, barely listening now. “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, we had this one guy with bongo drums which was as bad as it sounds I can assure you…”

  Soon we’re outside the bar again and I get that weird sense of déjà vu. The last time I was here I was just about to go onto the cruise that changed my life. For the worse, yes, but also for the best if tomorrow goes well. I don’t know how to feel about it, it’s a strange sense of anticipation that fills me.

  The red head fiddles in her pockets, looking for the keys and she slides it into the door quickly. Once it’s unlocked, she pushes on the door before falling backwards and clapping her palm onto her forehead.

  “Oh my God,” she gushes. “I almost forgot to pick up toilet paper. I can’t start the day without getting some or I’ll never get time. Then it’ll end up a real mess in there and I’ll get complaints all day long.” She gives me an odd look, as if she’s weighing me up. “Will you go in there and hold the fort for me for like five minutes? I won’t be long I promise, I just need to head to that shop around the corner. You can pour yourself a drink.”

  I take this as a sign. “Actually, I think I need to get going…” I call after her, but it’s too late, she’s gone.

  I huff and push the door open. I can’t leave the bar unlocked and unattended, it might get broken in to. I’ll just wait inside for a few minutes, get one drink, then go when she gets back, get to the police station and get started…

  “Stephen Jones,” a deep male voice booms making me jump. “Well, well, well, we meet again.”

  “Huh?” I’m confused. “What? I’m sorry, I thought…” I don’t even know her name. “I thought there was no one here. I was told to come to be here so no one broke in…”

  “By Katie?” A shadowy figure comes into the light. It’s someone tall, with dark hair and a scarred face. I can’t pick out anymore features than that because it’s still quite bleak in here. “The red-haired beauty who works here? Yeah, I know. I told her to say that. You see, me and her have gotten very close recently.”

  “Close?” Of-course I know what he means by close, how could I not know. Me and her have been close too. Whoever this man is shagged Katie to get to me, or so it seems, and I need to work out why. I think I might possibly know, but then again, I don’t want my paranoia to dictate me either. It’s already ruined enough of my time in America. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Me and you need to have a little chat don’t you think? About your time on the Princess Cru
ise.”

  Right. Of course. Just what I thought it was going to be about. “I…” I stammer, staggering backwards. “I don’t…” Do I deny that I saw anything? Do I pretend I never intended to tell anyone? Do I grow some balls and front it out? “I don’t know…”

  “There’s no point in trying to convince me of anything, Stephen Jones. I already know that it was you who saw a little incident on the boat and now we need to make it right.”

  “I… I won’t tell.” I try to edge my way back towards the door, but I quickly stagger back into another male body behind me. My heart hammers in my chest, a nauseous feeling overcomes me. I cannot believe that I’ve been duped. Katie tricked me into this mess and now I have no idea how I’m going to come out of it. “I didn’t even really see anything so I have nothing to say. Plus, the cops will probably blame me too because I didn’t do anything. Maybe I’ll get locked up too. Not that I’m going to say anything, or do anything. I just want to…” I feel like my tactic isn’t working. I need to try something else. “I will go back to New Zealand. You never have to see me again.”

  “I won’t ever see you again.” I see a baseball bat being pulled out from behind the man’s back which confirms it. I’m in real trouble. I glance my eyes everywhere, trying to search for an escape but there isn’t any way out. Bodies surround me everywhere. This man isn’t giving me any chance to get away. He clearly doesn’t know what my skills are when it comes to fighting. Admittedly I have no fighting skills, but that might not be the case I suppose.

  “Please,” I beg. “Please just let me go.”

  “Don’t start begging.” The man with the baseball bat doesn’t look impressed. “It never suits people when they start begging just take it like a man, okay?”

  “W… why not a gun?” The men move closer to me. The circle moves closer to me, I can feel the air squeezing out of my lungs. Any minute now I’ll pass out and make their job easy for them. “Wouldn’t that be cleaner?”

  “Easier for you maybe,” the man laughs. “But more boring for us. Also, loud.” He shrugs in a blasé manner, making it obvious that this is something he does all the time. “Little Katie gave us this place out of the kindness of her heart. I don’t want to abuse that trust by getting her in trouble.”

  The world spins violently around me, I can barely see anymore. I blink frantically, trying to regain my vision but fear has it now. The man steps forward and lifts the bat above his head. I flinch which only makes him laugh. He’s toying with me, playing with my emotions, like a tiger with a mouse.

  “Okay, I… I’ve learned my lesson… I won’t… I won’t…”

  But I don’t get to finish my sentence, because then a bat slams down on the side of my head leaving me with a blinding, red hot pain. It burns down my neck, down my back, to my knees. My legs shake, I can feel myself falling to the ground. It’s almost as if the bat has rid me of a lot of my brain function and I can’t cope anymore.

  Then I fell a kick at the back of my leg, sending me the rest of the way down. I’m helpless, tumbling like a blade of grass. There isn’t even enough of me to fight back. I might not stand a chance but I can’t even do it. My arms slowly move upwards to protect my face but it’s too late. They’re already beating me on every part of my body, trying to leave none of it unscathed. If I survive this then every inch of my body will likely hurt forever more. I won’t be the same person anymore.

  But I don’t think I’m going to survive this.

  The blackness is coming for me, I can feel it. It’s like a circle around me trying to claim me. There’s a part of me that wants to claw and cling to life, to hold on to what I’ve worked so hard for. I want that life, the one that I was just working towards, the one I was just about to get…

  Police today, interview tomorrow.

  Maybe that’s not going to happen now. Maybe nothing is going to happen now. Maybe it’s time to just give in to the blackness.

  Chapter Eleven - Tia

  The day starts just like any other. I have no idea that my world as I know it is about to come to an end. I’ve been trying my hardest to work out where I’m going next with my life and packing up my belongings along the way so at least I’m making progress to moving on with my life. I know that I need to get away from my family, that must have been evident since the damn day that I set foot back into my home, I just need to decide where I want to go. Yes, start up money isn’t a barrier, but that’s not all that I need to think about. When I go, I want it to be right. I sure as hell don’t want to be back here in a few months time with my tail between my legs, needing to start again.

  As I pad down the stairs to grab myself some breakfast I try to gear myself up. I do this every morning at the moment, I’m trying to brave the moment when I’ll actually tell Mom that I’m leaving. I want to do it, I want her to know that she’s driven me away, but I keep stopping myself at the last moment. The second I say those words it all becomes real and I guess I don’t want that to happen until I’m sure of where my next move will be. I keep thinking that maybe I should move near Diana, Helen, or Alexa, just so I have someone I know around me, but I’m not too sure. I don’t know what I want.

  “Morning,” Mom calls out brightly, as if she can’t see the inner turmoil snaking through me. “You look tired today.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I grumble back while taking a seat at the dining table. My head shakes in shock as her greeting words. “Good morning to you, too.”

  She places the newspaper on the table, one I’m sure she’s only pretending to read, and she examines me more closely. Her eyes rake over my body as if she’s picking up all of my insecurities one by one. I almost want to fold my arms across my chest to hide myself but I know there’s no point. That’ll only make her worse.

  “You know, you could always come to a spa with me today,” she muses thoughtfully, probably assuming that she’s being helpful. “My masseuse is a very nice man. Handsome too.” She sends me a wink as if we’re girlfriends rather than mother and daughter. It makes me feel sick that she can just act so normally when she knows that I know the truth about her and Dad. Isn’t she embarrassed at all? “I’m sure he’ll be able to fix you up and put a smile on your face.”

  I roll my eyes and push myself into a standing position. Then I move my way over to the coffee pot. I need some caffeine if I’m going to get through this without losing my freaking mind. “Yeah, we’ll see, Mom. I don’t know much about that.”

  The liquid pours into the mug and I focus on that sound rather than the drivel coming out of Mom’s mouth. If she honestly thinks I’m going to go on a girly day out with her then she’s got another thing coming. Once it’s full, I press the mug to my lip and allow the delicious heat to sear through my throat. Then I move back to my seat, grabbing the newspaper as I go. Maybe if I put it up in front of my face, she’ll take the hint that I really don’t want to talk to her.

  “…so I think it’ll be good for the both of us to spend some time together, don’t you?”

  “Hmmm,” I murmur while flicking open the pages. She continues to talk but I pay no attention. My eyes simply scan the words as if I’m drinking them in. I’m not really reading anything, until…

  “Oh my God.” My heart stops dead in my chest, sickness rises up into my throat, I have to gulp to keep it all inside. “Holy fuck.”

  “Tia!” Mom has the indecency to sound shocked by my curse word, as if that’s the worse thing that happens in this house. “What was that for?”

  “Oh, my God.” I ignore her, pushing back my chair and moving away from my coffee mug as I forget all about it. The words in front of my eyes swim and dance, grabbing my attention much more fiercely than anything else. “I have to go.”

  I bolt back up the stairs before Mom can say anything else, taking them two at a time as my heart pounds boiling hot blood right through my body. My brain buzzes as if I have a large bee inside there, clouding up my thoughts, I don’t know what the hell to do anymore. This is… it’s
just too much.

  Once I’ve flopped back onto my bed and I stretch my body out, I pull the paper back out and I find the article once more. It’s still there, it hasn’t vanished into thin air as if I’ve imagined it, which I half expected it to do. But nope, it’s still there.

  ‘Stephen Jones, small time musician, found dead in local bar.’

  No, it just can’t be. This can’t be possible. I reach across to the night stand and I grab Stephen’s pick which I roll between my fingers as I read. Maybe we only spent one night together and maybe he ditched me at the end of it, but I still feel like we shared something special. I still feel like we had some sort of connection that I really enjoyed. Now he’s just… gone. Dead. Vanished.

  ‘Barmaid of the Crown, Katie Miller, found the beaten body of Stephen Jones and was the one to contact the police. “I don’t know what happened,” she told us. “I locked up the night before and no one was in the bar, then the following morning I unlocked it to find him.”. She did not know Jones, but had seen him play at the Crown a few weeks before. “He seemed troubled, like he knew that he was in trouble.”’

  I scrunch the paper between my fingers, growing angry with each passing word. Stephen certainly didn’t seem troubled to me. When we met, he seemed happy as anything, and that gig he played was absolutely amazing. There was no way he knew that he was in trouble. The only strange thing to happen was that he vanished in the middle of the night after we had sex and I didn’t seem him for the rest of the time that I was aboard, but that doesn’t mean anything… does it?

  Not able to solely believe the words written in the paper, I click onto the Internet to try and find out more. Everyone knows that online journalists are much quicker than traditional ones, so I’m sure that if there’s any more information to be found, it will be online.

  Nope, nothing. Absolutely nothing. This is madness!

  After fifteen very frustrated minutes, the only info I can find is what I already know. I guess Stephen Jones just wasn’t an important enough person to warrant more news than that which is sad. He had a whole life, and he was murdered, and no one seems to care. Except me… and his family in New Zealand of course.