Page 13 of Dizzy

My eyes are drawn back to the laptop. My stomach tightens, and my cock pulses. I ain’t felt like this in a long, long time. If ever.

Excited.

Alive.

And ready, willing, and eager to beat the ass of any man who dares lay a hand on the pretty girl in pigtails.

I’m not that guy. I go along, get along. Mind my own business. If the pussy’s easy, I don’t say no. Don’t go lookin’ for it either.

But I don’t let no man touch my bike. Or mess with my kids. And, apparently, I got a similar view about my ghost girl.

“Hey,” Boots interrupts. “Dizzy? Ain’t that your boy?” He’s pointing at the laptop screen.

Well, I’ll be damned.

Heavy’s zoomed out on the picture of my girl sittin’ in front of the clubhouse, and there’s Carson in the background, dangling from the edge of the garage roof, about to fall on his ass.

I’d like to say I’m surprised.

But I ain’t in the slightest.

* * *

Even though I already did,we check out every nook and cranny on the property. When we don’t find her, we start sweeping the woods. Truth be told, Heavy’s directions get taken more as suggestions as the day wears on and everyone gets bored and then smashed.

There’s no sign of Fay-Lee before I got to go get the boys. I leave with the understanding that if she’s found, no one touches her ‘til I get back.

I’m unsettled. She’s real thin, and the sun’s goin’ down. There’s a bitter wind kickin’ up. My plan is to bring the boys back, let ‘em loose, and resume the search. They’ll be stoked. My boys are drawn to trouble like bugs to a porch light, and there’s no end of shit they can get into unsupervised at the clubhouse. Ain’t a problem. No one would let ‘em come to any real harm.

I roll up to Steve’s place at the same time as Sharon. The boys spill out of her white Suburban, iced coffees in hand.

I wait by the truck as the boys come runnin’.

“Dad!” Carson bumps my fist. “We gonna watchRockytonight?”

“That’s the plan.” I tousle his hair. It’s stiff. There’s gel in it. What the hell? He goes to hop in the cab. “Hold up. Not ‘til you finish that.” I nod at his drink.

I’m not cool with a seven-year-old chugging fancy coffee, but I’m even less cool with cleaning it out of my upholstery.

Parker runs into the house for something as Sharon makes her way over, bags dangling from her elbows. She goes up on her toes to peck my cheeks. She never did that when we were married. I think she picked it up from bein’ in real estate.

“Thanks for watching them, Dwayne. You’re a life saver.”

I ain’t “watching” them. They’re my kids. But as a rule, I do not start shit with the mother of my children if it can be helped. She can put things however she wants.

Parker hurries back outside, letting the screen door slam. He’s got his gaming console, wires dangling. It’s gettin’ harder and harder to tear him away from that machine. He’s always been interested in how shit works, so I can keep him off it if we’re workin’ on dirt bikes or swappin’ out the HVAC filter. He don’t ever want to throw a ball around, though. As soon as there’s no project to work on, he’s back click-clackin’ those buttons.

Carson’s the opposite. He’s a real physical kid. Uncoordinated but thick-skinned, like I was.

Parker piles into the back. I shut the door and head for the driver’s side. Sharon lays a hand on my arm.

Fuck.

“I need just a minute, Dwayne.” She guides me away from the truck.

This ain’t good.

“What’s up?”

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