didn’t see what was happening until it was too late.”
“What’s going to happen to the boys who did this?” Lee asks.
Adri gives her head a small shake. “I don’t know for sure. The one in my class will likely be suspended, but I don’t know for how long.”
Lee fixes her in a hard look. “I’m not going to send him back there if he’s at risk of getting beat up every other day.”
The worry lines around Adri’s eyes deepen. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You let it happen this—”
“Stop it! Leave her alone!” Sherm grabs Lee’s hand and starts dragging her out the door.
I hold Adri’s tormented gaze for a second longer, then follow them out.
Ulie already has dinner on the table when we finally get home. Grant takes all the credit when Sherm says he broke the other kid’s nose.
I miss most of what’s going on at the table because my brain is already on overload. The whole day: the meeting with Buchanan, the interview at Spencer Security, what happened to Sherm, what didn’t happen with Adri, specifically how much I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her it wasn’t her fault . . . it’s all spinning through my head. I just need some space to think.
Or maybe I need to get drunk so I can’t think.
Either way, I stand from the table before we’re through eating. “I’ve got some things I need to do. I’ll pick up Sherm’s prescriptions while I’m out,” I tell Lee, grabbing the key to the Lumina off the hook. I ignore the concern in her eyes as I slam out the door.
After driving aimlessly through dark streets for I have no idea how long, I stumble across a pharmacy on the mainland, not too far from the hospital we spent all afternoon in. I wait there for Sherm’s prescriptions, then, instead of going home, stop into a bar just up the road.
I find a table in the darkest corner, order a double gin and tonic when the waitress comes, then proceed to get drunk. I’ve been here an hour and I’m on my fourth G and T when my phone buzzes on the tabletop indicating a text. I’m expecting Lee, wondering where I am.
But it’s Adri.
I programmed her number in after she forwarded the text from her friend about the job at Spencer’s with only a skull and crossbones to identify her.
I open her message. How’s Sherm feeling?
I know she blames herself for what happened to him. I wish I could too. It would be so much easier if I could project this guilt onto someone else. Sherm has always been the kind of kid others flock to—outgoing and funny, with a personality that people can’t help but like. If he were himself, those boys never would have singled him out. He’s a shell of that boy now, and that’s nobody’s fault but mine.
Fine, I text back, then down the rest of my drink and flip my hand palm up on the table.
Candy’s number is smudged, but still readable through my beer goggles. I’ve got to burn some of this tension out of my system with someone who doesn’t matter to my family before I do something stupid with Sherm’s pretty blond schoolteacher and screw us all to hell. I start to dial.
“This seat taken?” A leggy brunette slides into the seat across from me before I can answer. “Drinking alone?” she asks, leaning forward onto her elbows.
The first thing that draws my attention, by design, is the skimpy top that her enormous tits are trying to escape. Most guys would drool over them, but it generally takes more than a great rack to hold my attention. Slowly, I let my eyes roam over the rest of her. She’s long and slender, tanned, with dark brown eyes set in a thin, overly made-up face. Reasonably hot, at least through the blur of gin. If this were Chicago, we’d have our fun and be done with it. I’m not sure of small-town Florida protocol. My eyes flick around the dim room, assessing the risks. No one here knows me. I’ll never set eyes on any of them again. This could work.
“Not anymore,” I say, turning off my phone and flagging down the waitress. “What’s your poison?”
She flashes me a suggestive smile. “Long Island iced tea.”
I order for both of us. The waitress twitches off toward the bar, and the brunette shifts into the seat next to me.