Page 5 of My Soul for Sale

With a smile slowly spreading across my face, I finish filling out the form and click submit. “You won’t. I will. Happy Father’s Day, Christmas, and birthday.”

“No, you fucking didn’t,” he growls.

“I did.” I smile. “You’re going. It says you can bring a guest in case sharing is your thing. So I’ll go with you. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just buy someone. I could use a weekend of fun.”

I close my laptop and savor the last sip of my beer. “Get ready, Dad. In a few weeks, we’re gonna go buy a woman.”

“God damn child,” he mutters under his breath, but I pay him no mind. With a chuckle, I hurry up the stairs, taking them two at a time to reach my room.

It’s early still, so I might be able to get a few hours of searching in. Since I turned eighteen, I have been tirelessly searching for my stepsister, my heart set on finding her. My dad’s marriage to Ali was short-lived, lasting only two years before she forcefully took her daughter away and issued a restraining order.

We listened. However, I held onto the hope that I would eventually locate her and once she reached eighteen, when the order was no longer in effect, we could finally have a conversation. Yeah, I have bigger plans than just talking, but let’s have a conversation first.

Sloane has starred in every wet dream and fantasy I’ve had since I was fifteen when she and her mom moved in. I never trusted Ali; there was always something secretive about her, as if she had hidden agendas and was constantly up to something. Come to find out I was right. She had a major drug and alcohol problem and it all blew up when she got caught cheating.

Sometimes I wonder if Sloane knew what her mom was doing, and why she stayed quiet. She had to have known about the addiction, but did she know she was fucking her dealer? If she did, why wouldn’t she tell my dad? Hell, at least tell me.

It doesn’t matter. I’d like to know, yeah, just so there are no secrets between us, but it’s already forgiven. I love her. Always have. At this rate, I think I might always love her. I’ve tried to date and none of them were her. So I’ve settled for meaningless sex, which is far and few between because my dad is right; sex complicates things.

Some women I’m intimate with know the score and are cool with it. Some, though, know the score, but still think they will be the one to change me.

Won’t happen. Nine years ago, a girl with honey-brown hair, light blue eyes, and curves beyond her years walked into our house, instantly stealing my heart. Her blue eyes locked with mine as she innocently asked if I could show her to her room, and I immediately fell under her spell.

Sloane saw the real me and knew the kind and caring person underneath my hard exterior. Even now, people see me with all my tattoos, the clothes, and think I’m a bad boy.

Which, sure, I can be an asshole, and I love to pretend that nothing phases me. But Sloane... Sloane saw through the facade and right into my soul.

I have to find her.

Chapter Four

Sloane

Monday nights are always the slowest. No one’s been in and so far I’ve spent most of my shift cleaning and scrolling aimlessly on my phone. I think I’ve seen two people in the four hours I’ve been here. Thankfully, Kevin texted earlier and told me I could close at midnight if there were still no patrons. I’m just counting down the minutes until then.

I’m standing on the bar, wiping the ceiling fan blades when the door opens. Two men walk in and my belly swoops. As I climb down, I take a second glance at them and breathe a sigh of… well, I don’t really know. It’s not relief, because part of me yearns to see them. But another part is scared because it’s been so long and I don’t know what I’d say.

Atlas and Ripley were my family for such a short time, and I thought that Rip would be the one to force Ali to settle down. Be the reason she got sober, because I wasn’t ever a good enough one.

I was wrong, though. Her drinking and shooting up never stopped. Instead, she got more creative in hiding it from her new husband. Then he caught her with Drivvy and everything blew up. I prayed and begged God to let me stay with Rip and Atlas. Ali never wanted me and she sure wasn’t a mom, so I was hopeful she’d forget me and I’d finally have a normal life.

God wasn’t on my side, though. I came home from school the next day and all our shit was packed. I asked if I could stay and finish the school year, but Ali only laughed and asked who would pay for that. She dragged me from the only stable and nice house I’ve ever lived in and dumped me at Grandma’s while she ran off to play with her druggie friends.

I guess saying it was the only stable home is a lie. Grandma was always good to me and I loved staying there, but she shouldn’t have had to raise me. She did though and when she died, I was heartbroken, almost as broken as I was the day we left Rip’s.

“How’s it going tonight, fellas?” I ask, throwing my rag in the bucket of soapy water I use for cleaning the ceiling and fans.

“Two Miller Lites,” the older one tells me, both of them sitting on a barstool.

I flash a smile and head to the cooler with the drinks in it, pulling out two cans of Miller. As I walk back over to them, I crack each one open and sit them in front of them on a napkin.

“Five dollars.”

“You take a card?” the younger one asks.

“No sir. Only cash. The ATM is right behind ya, though, so you can pull some out.” He looks around to where I nod and gets up, heading over to it to withdraw some money. “Here ya go.” He slides a twenty over the bar to me when he gets back. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you.”

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