Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk #3) - Samantha Young Page 0,118
Crosby saw a man leaving Willy Nettle’s empty trailer out on Oak Meadows just before dawn. Can’t say for sure it was Jackson, but I think it’s worth checking out.”
“I’ll send a couple deputies.” Jeff sighed. “If that son of a bitch has been in town this whole time …”
“I know.” Michael shared his frustration. “I’m on my way there now.”
They hung up, and Michael followed Cooper out of the kitchen.
“I’ll be glad when this is over,” Cooper said.
“Yeah, we don’t want a killer on the loose, scaring off tourists.”
Cooper glared at him as Michael rubbed the nape of his neck.
“I didn’t mean that,” Cooper said. The glare dissipated, replaced with concern. “You okay, Mike?”
“I’ve been better.” Together they pushed the doors open.
Michael wished he’d stayed in the hallway.
Standing at the bar, lips pursed, his eyes dark on Bryn, one of Cooper’s bartenders, was Michael’s old man.
What the hell was Aengus Sullivan doing in Hartwell?
His dad jerked his head toward him.
It was like the floor fell away under his feet.
As Aengus strode around the bar to come to a stop in front of him, Michael fought the need to walk away, like always. He knew before Aengus even spoke that he was drunk. It was a goddamn miracle he’d made it all the way to Delaware in this state.
Alcohol was also the reason he’d do something so ridiculous as driving here for a son who’d made it clear he wanted nothing to do with him.
Michael hated being in the same room as his dad. Looking at him now, no one would know that he’d once been a handsome bastard. So good-looking, he’d snared Michael’s mom, the prettiest girl in Southie. Michael hated that he looked like his father and was grateful for the miracle of genetics that gave him his mother’s blond hair.
Just that little difference to separate him physically from the asshole in front of him.
Of course, Aengus Sullivan wasn’t what he used to be. His face was haggard from smoking, and he had a gut from drinking.
“What are you doing here?” Michael was grateful he sounded calmer than he was feeling.
His father scrunched up his face in disgust, his voice loud when he answered, “You’re on the news. My fuckin’ waste-of-space son is on the news. And everyone is asking me why the fuck my son is in this pissy little town pissing away that detective badge he’s so fuckin’ smug about.”
“Jesus,” Cooper muttered behind him.
Michael’s neck grew hot and he bit back the urge to lash out at his father. Was he so sick in the head, he’d come all this way to berate his own son? “Lower your voice.”
Aengus curled his lip. “I know why you’re here.”
Before Michael could respond, his evening went from bad to worse as Cooper’s door flew open, and Dahlia rushed in with Bailey at her back.
Jesus Christ.
His father turned to see what had grabbed his attention as Dahlia spotted him. The look of relief on her face turned to confusion when she recognized Aengus. She stepped toward them.
“And speak of the fuckin’ devil.”
“Dad.” Michael grabbed his arm, jerking him back around. “I’m on duty right now, so let’s step outside. You can say what you came here to say, and then you’ll get the fuck out of my town.”
“Your town?” He guffawed loudly, and the bar went silent.
Michael pinched the bridge of his nose as if it would somehow stop his headache and make his father disappear at the same time.
“You move to this nowhere little shithole on the sea for that piece behind me—”
“Watch it,” Michael warned.
Aengus smirked as Dahlia got closer, his eyes flickering to her with malice. “And your mom tells me this girl doesn’t even want you. You always thought you were better than me, but you’re not better. You gave up a job I could be proud of you for to chase some tail down the East Coast, only to fumble on a fuckin’ murder case. I’m here to talk sense into you. Come back to Boston, Mikey. Stop making a fool of yourself and make your old man proud for once.”
Before Michael could even formulate a thought, Dahlia was in Aengus’s face.
“How dare you?” she spat.
He sneered, opened his mouth to say something, but she put her palm inches from his face to shut him up.
“My turn. This is my town. And you do not come into my town, berate and insult the man I love, a man who is working his ass off. Do