Song of the Surf (Pacific Shores Book 3)

by Lynnette Bonner

  Justus closed his eyes, wishing he could will away the images that always came with the telling of this story. How many boys had he told it to over the years? But the images always remained, and in some ways that was a good thing. Because in the end the incident had been his salvation.

  “Mr. McKettrick wasn’t the naïve old man we all thought he’d be, however. He’d served his country sneaking through the jungles of Vietnam and then had been on the police force in town for years. He knew a thing or two about delinquents.” Justus swiped a hand over his face. “It was my job to chat up Mick while the other guys each made off with a bottle of booze. But before any of my buddies could even make it halfway to the door, old Mick pulled out a sawed-off shotgun he kept under the counter. He just laid it on the laminate next to the register sort of casual like and cleared his throat. The spread on that piece would have covered half the store and we all knew it. But one of the guys – Marshall was his name – had already had a few drinks that morning. Where the rest of us would have just hightailed it out of there, Marshal decided the risk was worth it. He told Mr. McKettrick that he was going to walk out the door with his bottle of Nate Daniels and the old man could come and stop him if he thought he could. Mick grabbed up his sawed-off and before any of us could even think to blink he was around that counter and had it pressed right into Marshall’s chest.”

  Beside Justus, the kid’s eyes were as wide as Justus felt sure his had been that day.

  “I felt frozen to the spot, wondering what Marshall would do. Marshall wasn’t backing down and old Mr. McKettrick had done his fair share of killing and it seemed he didn’t want to add one more to his list. After a bit of yelling they finally stood just staring at each other. I was so fixated on hoping Marshall wasn’t going to do something really stupid and get himself killed that I didn’t even see David. He and Tom were the other guys who had snagged bottles of booze. David ran up behind Mick and broke his bottle over the old man’s head.” Justus ground his teeth, but then forced himself to finish the tale. “Mick’s gun went off out of reflex and Marshall never had a chance as close as the weapon was to his chest. So there’s Mick lying on the ground groaning and holding his head, and Marshall is dead and we all know it. And all of us are just staring from them to each other.” The telling of this tale never grew any easier. Justus pulled in a long breath and then let it out slowly.

  Silence lingered until the kid prompted, “How’d you get arrested?”

  Justus rubbed his palms together. “We heard the sirens then. Mick had pressed a silent alarm at some point, he told me later. Tom and David, they took off like lightning and I intended to be right on their heels. But then as I started to jump over Mr. McKettrick I noticed that not all the blood on the floor was coming from Marshall. Some of it was from a bad laceration on the back of Mick’s bald head. I knew if I walked out that door the cops wouldn’t get there in time to save him.” Justus shrugged. “I took off my shirt and did my best to stop the bleeding and that’s where the cops found me. Turned out Mick had surveillance cameras none of us knew about and the whole incident was caught on tape.”

  “Did the other two get caught?”

  Justus nodded. “All of us were convicted. David’s still in. Tom got out just a year or two after I did. But you know what the kicker is? Mr. McKettrick came to visit me every month while I was in jail. That man had more forgiveness in him than anyone I’d ever known. He talked to me about how bitter he’d been when he got home from ’Nam. And then he started telling me about Jesus and how his life had changed after he started serving God.”

  The kid huffed at that.

  Justus settled one hand on the small bony shoulder and undid the top two buttons on his shirt, then pulled it aside. The boy’s eyes found the tattoo just below his collarbone and over his heart. It was a simple one – “Mick” in small capped letters.

  The boy shrugged off his hand and smirked. “You got the old man’s name tatted on your chest?”

  Justus readjusted his shirt as he nodded. “Because of his relationship with Jesus, Mick was able to love me in a way that shook me to my core. My mom had taken me to Sunday school when I was little, but I’d always dismissed it as mostly a fairy tale. But because of Mick’s example, I eventually realized that wasn’t true and gave my life over to God too, and now you know what I do? I help boys, many of whom are just like I was. Mixed up in the wrong crowd, just trying to be somebody, when in reality they already are somebody if they would just begin to see themselves as God sees them.”

  The boy slumped back in his chair and looked away.

  Justus sighed. “I don’t know what all you are mixed up in, but I do know you are hanging with the wrong crowd. And I can promise you it will only lead you to trouble.”

  The kid held his silence.

  “You ever heard of Jesus?”

  Another snort. “Hasn’t everyone?”

  “You might be surprised. I’ve given you a lot to think about today, but I’ll end with this. Jesus is not just some fairy tale. He’s real. And He loves you more than you can imagine.”

  A sound of disgust escaped the boy’s lips. “Loves me enough to send me to jail, you mean?”

  Justus ruffled one hand over the mop of red hair. “If that’s what it takes. It’s what it took for me.”

  Movement from the bed drew Justus’s attention and he glanced over. Everything in him froze. Dakota was looking right at him, tears shimmering in her eyes and tracking back into her hair.

  He swallowed. How much of that story had she heard? He took in her tears. Obviously enough that she was distraught.

  Regret filled him. He stood and stepped toward her, but at that moment Kylen knocked on the door and poked his head inside.

  Justus felt a helpless sense of futility. Maybe he and Dakota were simply not meant to have this conversation. He rubbed one hand back over his head and gestured for Kylen to come inside. His questions and explanations would have to wait.

  Chapter 12

  With Jalen on her heels, Riley strode purposefully through the door after Kylen, her heart in her throat. Kylen had said Justus felt she might know the boy he had caught stealing Dakota’s purse. And if he was right—

  She froze in her tracks so quickly that Jalen bumped into her from behind. His hands slid up her arms to cup her shoulders and he squeezed her gently and nudged her forward. That was all the encouragement she needed to find her voice. “Remington Dylan Ross, why are you not in school?”

  Her little brother smirked. “What do you care? You haven’t been by the house in months!” His gaze flickered over her face and down to her cast and then he swallowed and fiddled with the silver bracelet around his wrist. “You look better.”

  Better was relative. The last time she’d seen him had been several weeks ago at Nate’s funeral. Only a few days after Nate had beaten her up and then driven himself off a cliff. Before that she’d been busy surviving. So Rem’s accusation was true enough.

  She turned the ire of her emotions onto Justus. “You handcuffed him? He’s twelve years old!”

  Justus didn’t look a bit remorseful. He only folded his arms and leaned back into his heels. “He’s old enough to steal a purse? He’s old enough to wear some silver. I wouldn’t have had to cuff him if he’d been cooperating. So I take it he’s not homeschooled?”

  That last question almost made her laugh. She shook her head. “No.” And the part about the cuffs was probably right, she supposed. She took a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, then directed her words back to her brother. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

  He shrugged. “Dad’s on business in Europe somewhere. Mom’s around.”

  Riley’s fingernails bit into her palms. By “around” he probably meant she was alone and never far from the wet bar for half of each night and dead-drunk asleep for the other half. “When does Dad get home?”

  He sniffed his antipathy. “Who cares?”

  She threw up her hands. “You’re in a lot of trouble here!
You might show a little concern!”

  “What do you care?! It’s not like you’ve been falling over yourself to help any! Maybe I needed the money!”

  She did bark a laugh then. More to ease her conscience than at the thought of one of Dylan Ross’s children needing money. “That’s a good one!”

  She thought of the bank account Dad had set up for her when he kicked her out of the house. She hadn’t touched it to this day except to remove his name from the account so he wouldn’t have access to the money, because she wouldn’t put it past him to bleed the account dry just to teach her some sort of twisted lesson.

  Remington was still glowering at her.

  She snagged her phone from her bag. “Let me just call up Dad and tell him you snatched a purse because you needed some money! Let’s see what he says about that.”

  Rem’s eyes widened. “No don’t. I’ll do the time, or whatever. Just get me away from this Jesus freak”—he tipped his head toward Justus— “and let me get on with my life.”

  Guilt immediately washed through her. She shouldn’t have threatened him with Dad. She of all people knew what it was like to be on Dad’s bad side. It was one of the main reasons she rarely went home anymore. And likely the reason Mom had turned to drink. But that didn’t give him any reason to disrespect Justus and her friends.

  She cuffed his head, and it was a lot more gently than she would have like to. “That ‘Jesus Freak’ is the only reason you are still sitting here and not already on your way to Juvy where you belong.”

  “Whatever. They got everything back. It’s not like it was a big deal or anything.”

  Riley threw up her hands and spun away from him before she gave in to the temptation to take her cast to his head.

  Across the room Jalen stood with his arms folded, one hand resting against his cheek. He met her gaze, sympathy and understanding cloaking his features. She fisted one hand, wanting to cuss him for his gentle empathy that drew her when she wanted nothing but distance between herself and anyone of the male species for the rest of her life.

  Instead, she turned her focus on Kylen. “What now?”

  Kylen shrugged. “That depends on if Dakota wants to press charges, or not.” All eyes in the room focused on Dakota for a moment before Kylen turned back to her and added, “You’d better call your mother.”

  “And we all need to get out of here and let Dakota get some rest,” Justus added.

  Riley glanced over and blinked. Dakota’s eyes were red like she’d been crying. Riley narrowed another glare at her brother. These people had been like a breath of fresh air to her since even before Nate’s death and she hated that her brother was the cause of some hurt to them, no matter how small. She snapped her fingers at Rem. “Up. Let’s go.”

  He rolled his eyes at her and yanked on the handcuffs to clatter them against the metal of his chair.

  If she wasn’t mistaken Justus’s lips twitched as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the cuff around the arm of the seat.

  A nurse bustled in just then and inserted a syringe into Dakota’s IV line, squirting some sort of drug inside. “There, you should be feeling like a new woman in just a few minutes. That will help you sleep tonight.”

  Dakota nodded to the nurse and when she left turned her attention to Riley. “I won’t be pressing charges.”

  Justus and Kylen shared a knowing look that said they’d seen that coming. But Riley couldn’t deny that it came as a relief to actually hear her say it. Hopefully Remington would learn his lesson the easy way this time.

  But her hope was short lived when Rem actually had the audacity to pump one fist and exclaim “yes!” under his breath. Riley’s hand shot out of its own volition, and this time the slap he took to the head was no gentle tap.

  “Ow!”

  She cocked one eyebrow. “You deserve that and more. And don’t think you have gotten away with anything here. Dad will for sure be hearing about this from me as soon as he gets home.”

  Justus unlocked the other ring and pocketed the bracelets and Riley practically dragged her brother from the room as he grumbled and rubbed his head.

  As she passed Jalen he grinned broadly, then gave her a nod and a wink and a thumbs-up.

  She tightened her hand around Rem’s arm and lowered her gaze to the floor, determined not to give the man the satisfaction of knowing she appreciated his support. Thankfully the wedding was over and he and Justus should be heading back to their own side of the state soon. She swallowed, refusing to even give a glimmer of acknowledgement to the whisper of melancholy that thought brought.

  And even angrier with herself for giving the man a second consideration.

  She turned her thoughts back to her brother. She’d been hoping Remington would learn this lesson the easy way when she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that not one person in their family was prone to being schooled the easy way. No sir. The Rosses took their lessons the long hard way thank you very much. And woe to any person who latched themselves to a Ross bandwagon along the way, because they were sure to be taken down in the guaranteed fray.

  As everyone started to leave the room, Dakota felt a wave of thankfulness combined with a wave of longing to talk to Justus. She knew she’d hurt him the night before, even though he’d been nothing but a gentleman to her this morning. Still, it hurt her a little that he was just leaving without even taking time to say goodbye.

  But then he stopped in the doorway, waved to the others, and turned to face her.

  Pain radiated through her and she squirmed to find a more comfortable resting place, determined that it not prevent her from having this talk with him. Besides, she was almost feeling like a new person after whatever drug the nurse had put into her IV bag a moment ago.

  He scrubbed the backs of his fingers over his jaw and watched her intently like he had something on his mind but wasn’t sure how to tell her.

  She had some things on her mind too. She’d only heard part of his story. But she’d heard enough to make her see him differently. He had a good heart. She knew she didn’t have to worry about that anymore. If she were honest, she’d known it all along. Even when he’d been running and rebellious he’d had a good heart. She was ready to hear his story now. Ready, so ready, to get to know him better. She lifted one hand toward him.

  Someone in the hallway must have said something to him because he turned that way again and spoke. Probably to Kylen, but the combined sounds of the machines surrounding her bed kept her from hearing what he said.

  And then he was walking toward her and standing by her side. She reached out and took his hand. “Yes.”

  He frowned. “Yes, what?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask to hear your story last night. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”

  An emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint entered his expression. “Dakota…”

  She smiled. She’d made him speechless. Heaviness weighted her eyes. “Can we discuss the details another time though?” Her words might have slurred slightly there at the end.

  She settled more heavily into the pillow and gave in to the pull of darkness. Just for a minute.

  A gentle touch against her cheek awakened her. When she opened her eyes the room was dim and no light shone through the window. Puzzlement pinched her brow.

  Justus smiled softly. “Sorry to wake you. But I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye and visiting hours are over.” He winked. “This nurse is a battle ax and I couldn’t charm her into letting me stay like I did the last one.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “I’m glad you did. Doctor Dallas came through again a couple hours ago. He said your blood work was positive for malaria and they started you on some meds in your IV. Are you feeling better?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Probably by tomorrow. Can I go home?”

  He shook his head. “Your fever was over 104 when you got here. They want to keep an eye on you for another day or so.”
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  She suppressed a groan of frustration. “I guess this is not my week.”

  Justus tilted his head and humor crinkled the corners of his eyes. “It has kind of been rough, hasn’t it?”

  “I was doing pretty good till you came to town. Hadn’t been in the hospital once all year. Never had a tree fall on my house at all before then.” She couldn’t resist teasing him even though she felt a bit like she’d been on the losing end of a boxing match.

  He chuckled. “Har har. Jalen came with me. Maybe this is all his fault.”

  Dakota tried to smile but only ended up suppressing a yawn. “Yeah. Jalen. Let’s blame him.” A chill gripped her and she shivered under the blankets.

  Justus brushed his fingers over her forehead. “Try to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  She nodded, her eyes already falling closed. Contentment filled her as she listened to his soft footsteps cross the room.

  Riley practically shoved Rem through the front door of her parents’ house and then felt a little guilty for the way she was treating him.

  Skulking, he stopped and rubbed the spot on his arm where she’d just been gripping him.

  Sandy padded in, tongue lolling and tail wagging. Remington dropped to his knees to give her a good scratch behind her ears.

  Riley flipped her car keys around one finger and studied the interior of the palatial house she’d been raised in. It sat high up on a large bluff above Marinville and it didn’t look any different than the last time she was here. Cold, hard, modern lines spotlessly cleaned by the live in woman who was housekeeper, cook, and butler of sorts, Lucia. Large windows looked down on the Pacific where the melting sun cast golden molten slag onto the water and horizon beyond. Hanging on the wall opposite the entry was a large canvas of a grotesque, modern art couple, the price of which could probably keep a place like House of Hope running for half a year.