Current

by Abby Mccarthy

  current

  Abby McCarthy

  Copyright © 2016 Abby McCarthy

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the book review.

  Cover design by Hang Le

  Formatting by Indie Pixel Studio | www.indiepixelstudio.com

  table of contents

  Dedication

  current

  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

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Dedication

  For Nicole. I appreciate you more than you know

  For: Louisa, Nicole, Kerry, Jade, Kristine and Dawn- Love my BBAUAN Bitches

  current

  {noun}

  a body of water or air moving in a definite direction, especially through a surrounding body of water or air in which there is less movement.

  {adjective}

  belonging to the present time; happening or being used or done now.

  Prologue

  “Jake! Where the hell are you? We should’ve been out on the water by now!” Shit, Jake thought. The old man didn't sound good today. He wondered if he even slept. When Jake left early this morning, his old man hadn’t come home yet which could mean so many things.

  Jake looked over to June who was decent and breathed a sigh of relief as his dad walked through the clearing. If his dad was just minutes earlier he would have seen June. The thought sickened Jake.

  June stood up as soon as she saw Mr. Daniels, her cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment and she hoped he had no idea what they had been up too.

  “Hi, Mr. Daniels,” she said.

  “You again, huh? You’re the reason Jake isn’t where he’s supposed to be, aren’t you?”

  June didn’t know what to say. She heard Mike Daniels say unkind things to Jake, but he had never been rude to June before. Jake reached June and slipped his hand in hers and gave her a look that said don't answer him.

  “I’m coming now, Dad,” Jake said. June was instantly sad that she had to leave Jake.

  “I’m good at cleaning fish. I bet I’d be a great help on the boat Mr. Daniels,” June offered up ignoring the glare Jake gave her. She knew he didn’t want her around his old man, but she also knew her time was coming to an end.

  Mr. Daniels was quiet and thought for a moment and said, “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Jake felt it low and in the pit of his stomach that something about this was a bad idea, but when June squeezed his hand and said, “Please,” he couldn’t deny her.

  The fishing boat was not a luxury boat. It was a dirty, slightly rusty boat, with large nets hanging off the front of it, and other fishing contraptions off the back that June had no idea what they did. When she thought of fishing, she thought of how her dad did it with a pole, a couple of beers and a day out with friends. There were poles attached on the side of the boat and baskets attached to the opposite side. It became very clear to June that this was not a leisurely trip down the river.

  Jake cringed when June sat on the bench that he knew had dried fish guts staining it. He hated that her pretty dress was going to be ruined before the day was over. He hated even more when he saw his dad take the whiskey bottle to his lips before pushing off their small dock. He never wanted June to be around his dad, and for once, he instantly regretted giving in to her quiet plea to go with them. He was shocked his dad agreed in the first place.

  The boat pushed off the dock and Jake dropped cages to catch crawfish and he explained to June that they would sweep back around and grab them on the way back.

  “Less talking. More work,” Mr. Daniels yelled more angrily than necessary at the young couple.

  June quickly asked, “What can I do?”

  Jake tensed at his dad’s tone and then tensed even more when he watched him take the fifth of whiskey to his lips again finishing the bottle.

  Eventually, they reached a spot on the river where Mr. Daniels swore the fish would be biting. Jake showed June how to bait and cast out a line, taking his time in making sure she learned it right.

  “If I’d thought this was going to be a day of you trying to get in your girlfriend’s pants, I’d have thought twice about letting her tag along,” Mike Daniels spat at the two, jealous that they had each other and angry that he no longer had his sweet wife. She was always the only person who made him good. Without her, he had nothing. He never felt connected to Jake. Jake always occupied his wife’s time and Mike resented that. He hated Jake even more for it when he no longer had her.

  Jake cringed again at the vulgar words his dad used around June, mouthing, “Sorry,” to her.

  June responded by squeezing Jake’s hand and for the first time she got a small glimpse at what Jake went through on a daily basis. Her heart hurt for him and she was going to do her best not to let Mr. Daniels harsh words get to her.

  Mr. Daniels pushed past the two and intentionally shoulder-checked Jake. Jake knew not to stand up to his old man, especially not when June was there, so he gritted his teeth and tried to check his temper. Jake was angry that his dad was acting like this in front of June. He could take it, but didn't need for June to put up with it.

  Mr. Daniels threw a line out, stationed his rod and then cast another, doing it all rather clumsily. The boat swayed side to side and Jake thought there would be no swimming for the pair tonight, the river was far too choppy. It was one of the reasons he didn't rush to the boat. He never thought his dad would want to fish in this.

  June squealed with excitement when she felt a tug on the line. Jake told her to reel it slow at first and let the fish think that he was getting the bait, that way the fish would really get hooked. She did as instructed and after a few minutes of give and take on the line, she reeled in her first fish. It was small, too small to sell, and so Jake showed her how to unhook it and then he threw it back in. Jake caught several large fish while his dad had yet to catch one.

  The clouds looked heavy and low, signaling to Jake that a bad storm might be coming.

  “I don't think we should stay out here, not if we’re going to pick up our baskets on the way back,” Jake said to his dad.

  Mike Daniels looked furiously at Jake. He knew when to call it quits. It was his boat. He’d been fishing on this river since he was a boy. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that extra fifth of whiskey with breakfast-who was he kidding-for breakfast, but it didn't matter he knew when to call it quits and that wasn’t yet. He needed more fish. He needed a bigger haul. He lost big on the tables last night and if he didn’t come up with money to pay Mr. Stevens there would be hell to pay. He’d already lost the farm and that
shit son of his couldn’t even catch enough fish to help pay his debts. What good was he, anyways?

  “The fuck did you say, boy? I’ll tell you when we’re ready to go.”

  June flinched at Mr. Daniels tone but tried to not let Jake see it had affected her. She also tried not to flinch when Mr. Daniels threw out his line and snagged his rig against a bunch of turned up branches that the coming storm was pushing down the river.

  “That’s a fifty dollar rig. Get your ass in the water and go get it,” he said to Jake. Jake wanted to argue about the fast current and how dangerous it was. He also hated the thought of leaving June alone with his old man even for a second, but he could tell by his old man’s tone that today could get even worse than it already was. Jake stripped off his jeans, into his boxers and quickly jumped into the murky water, looking back at June once before plunging under the water.

  June’s stomach tightened. Every second Jake was in the water was a second she felt like she couldn't breathe.

  It happened fast. Mike Daniels was too close to June for comfort.

  “You know I saw you two together. I didn’t figure you for a whore, but at least my boy is getting some. I’m thinking I should get a taste. See what all the fuss is about that’s been keeping him so busy.”

  June froze. She didn’t want Mr. Daniels to come any closer to her, but she needed to make sure that Jake was okay.

  Jake emerged from under the water near the brush. The water was choppy, and there were more limbs below the surface than above. He reached out and tried to unhook the rig, but the tumultuous waters pushed a sharp jagged stick into his ribs. He felt it cut his skin, but he had to go on.

  “Stop!” he heard the faint cry from June, and turned his head back to see why she was yelling. His dad had his hands on June and was groping one of June’s breasts.

  “No!” she yelled again and he watched as she struck out and smacked his dad. He needed to get to her, he knew what happened when he tried to fight back and. Fighting back only made it worse.

  He couldn't swim back fast enough to the boat. His arms burned with how hard he was trying to get to her. The sky opened up and sent large pellets of water everywhere. Jake could barely see through the dense rain. He pushed himself as hard as he could but felt like he was failing when he saw his dad grab her by the back of her hair and force her to her knees, with his other hand around her throat. He knew his dad was sick, but he never imagined him trying to do something as vile as this.

  Jake reached the boat just as his dad’s belt buckle was being undone and his world went black.

  Chapter One

  “I’m low on funds Liz and if we’re going to get in before they start charging the five dollar cover we have to go,” I say tugging on Liz’s purse trying to break the locked gaze she has with the beefy blonde. She shoots me a sideways look with a slight grit to her teeth that tells me without words, she isn't ready to leave.

  “Just tell the guy at the door you’re writing about the band for The Scene. He’ll totally be cool with letting you in for free,” Liz says but doesn’t take her eyes off of Blondie.

  “And you know I can’t do that. The band isn’t supposed to know I’m there.”

  “Fine, fine,” she says dismissively, “You mind if I meet you there in ten?”

  “Whatever,” I say annoyed with Liz, but not surprised. This is typical Liz behavior. A cover charge doesn’t make a difference to Liz, but it’s the difference of me eating more than Ramen Noodles tomorrow. I am the typical broke college student, hence why I need to pay zero for a cover.

  I grab my coat that’s hanging on the back of the barstool and holler over the music which has suddenly increased in volume, “You better not ditch me,” I say waving over my shoulder. I leave the bar, exiting into the chilly air, throw my coat on and walk the three blocks to Parrot Blue’s.

  Two weeks ago, I stopped in Parrot Blue’s just as a band was leaving and I swore for a moment that it was him; the one I’ve been searching for, but before I could catch up to him, he was gone. I’m not even supposed to be covering tonight's show, but I took on Andrea’s articles covering the local swap meet in exchange for her giving me the show to cover.

  The bar is a dive in the best possible way. Old license plates and bumper stickers from long since forgotten radio shows cover the ceiling. On one wall is the first dollar they earned and the subsequent first dollar spent on the day of each of their anniversaries- forty-eight dollars total. I know this because one night, the most dreadfully boring band was playing and I managed to count all forty-eight.

  I was able to beat the crowd tonight and find a seat at a freestanding circular table with several bar stools around it. Ash, a bartender that is covering the floor until his late night staff gets in stops by the table.

  “All by yourself tonight, June?” he smiles a warm friendly smile.

  “Hopefully not for long, Liz should be meeting me. Been slow tonight?”

  “Not too bad, besides the night just got better.”

  “And why is that?” I ask knowing that Ash is a flirt.

  “Well, you walked in for one. Whatcha having anyways?”

  “Water for now, I need to watch myself.”

  “At your service,” he says dramatically then walks away. Ash is harmless and has always been a gentleman to me. He might flirt from time to time, but it’s all in good fun.

  The bar pays a crew to help set up. They’re overweight guys with torn shirts willing to do any grunt work for the fifty dollars or so the bar is paying them. These guys are fairly efficient in placing the large speakers, amplifiers and running all the wire for the sound equipment. I sip my water steadily until and Ash brings me a refill. Liz isn't here yet and I’m getting annoyed.

  I shoot her a text message.

  Where r u Liz?

  The bar begins filling up with patrons and I hope to God Liz gets here soon otherwise I’m going to have to throw down for these seats. The drummer comes out and starts doing a sound check. He is wearing a Slayer t-shirt. His face has a full beard and a baseball cap covers his eyes. I hope like hell this isn’t death metal. I have little tolerance for that.

  “Check, check,” he says into the mic.

  The lead singer is wearing black motorcycle boots, a pair of jeans with a chain attached to his wallet that is tucked into his pocket, a white t-shirt and has a pretty boy face with dark hair styled on top begins to adjust the mic. The lights go dim and I know the band is getting ready to do their thing. I’m straining to see them, I need to see if it’s him.

  “There you are!” Liz scoots past me and slides onto the stool against the wall. I purposefully sit on the edge facing the band so that I can see everything. Across from Liz, Blondie grabs a seat. Next to him, a nicely dressed man, and by nicely I mean khaki pants and a long sleeve button up shirt with frosted tips on his hair and dark beady eyes sits down across from me. I catch Liz’s eyes and silently tell her I want to strangle her if she is trying to set me up with this guy. He is not my type. At all.

  “Hi, I’m Allen,” the guy in front of me says and stretches out his hand. I reach my hand out and meet his. He shakes my hand, by barely holding it and moving it up and down way too fast. It speaks volumes about him. I wonder if he fucks like he shakes hands. I shudder at the thought. He is nice enough looking, if you like the preppy type. Liz likes any type, me not so much.

  “June,” I say as uninterested as I can.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asks.

  “No, I’m drinking water right now. Pardon me,” I say not explaining myself to him or why I need to pay attention to the band. He already distracted me while the rest of the members joined the small stage and I really need to see if it’s him.

  “How’s everyone doing tonight?” The lead singer shouts into his microphone and the room responds with several hoots and hollers. “A big thanks to Parrott Blues for inviting us back tonight. We’re Silent Tides.”

  Opening keys on a keyboard start to pl
ay. The keyboardist is turned away from me, so I can't see his face. I immediately recognize the song as Brian Adams Everything I Do I Do It for You. Oh no, not another eighties cover band. The bassist joins in. He has long straggly hair, is slim and wearing red skinny jeans. The singer starts singing. His voice is soothing. It has a nice raspy tone to it. I close my eyes for a second to absorb it.

  “You really get into this stuff don’t you?” Allen asks me, trying to get my attention. I open my eyes and give him a glare.

  “Don’t mind her. She’s writing about the band,” Liz explains to Allen.

  “I love this song!” Blondie shouts.

  I take my attention away from the distractions at the table and I listen to the music. They are all playing well. I haven't gotten that “wow factor” yet from them, but as far as covers go, it’s nice. The singer ends the first chorus, and then everything changes.

  The keyboardist stops and adjusts a microphone. The singer picks up a trumpet from the case and starts playing. The entire tempo changes and the keyboardist starts singing in a fast upbeat Ska/Punk kind of way. He sings the lyrics, “Look into my eyes and you will find...”

  The energy in the entire room has shifted. Maybe the regulars were expecting this shift because the crowd moves right into it, dancing and singing along. Heads start bobbing, but a magnetic pull brings me center stage. No one moving around me matters because my eyes are fixed on the man singing. His eyes are so familiar. It can't be him, can it? They look so much alike. I’ve been searching for so long. So many years have passed. Maybe I am imagining what he would look like. This has to be a figment of my imagination. I want it so badly. All of these years I've needed to see him again, but could my mind be playing tricks on me. I wish it was him, but I'm also afraid that it is.