Page 5 of Undertow

“The one and only.”

“Damn.”

“Wait until you see the resort.”

Right. The world-renowned tourist haven, and probably the reason I’m here. Who am I supposed to swindle this time? A senator’s wife? Maybe the senator himself? Or both.

I push away memories of what happened in New Orleans.

“You’ll be okay, kid. Why don’t you take a few days off?”

Only in my world do we get paid time off to shatter.

“You golf, pretty boy?” Abe asks.

I blink back to the present in time to see a clearing of neat hills and perfectly manicured grounds. I didn’t think there was a nickname I could hate more than “Picasso,” but apparently there is.

“Not really.”

“Too bad. You know, the Palmetto Acres Golf Club was named twelfth in the nation this past year.”

“Yeah?”

Man, it’s hard to care about shit when your brain is exploding. We just need to get in front of Montgomery McArthur and find out why I’m here. The not-knowing is the worst part. When you live in a nightmare, infinite possibilities are a cancer not a drug.

My phone buzzes, and I look down to see a notification. The coded message tells me I’ve received a communication from Gramps. How does he always seem to know when I could use a ray of light?

I shouldn’t check the message, but I need a breath of fresh air and Abe is distracted with driving. I tilt my screen out of view and open the cloud drive connected to my other phone.

I’m glad I took the risk when I’m blasted with the hilarious image of Gramps attempting a selfie with his new “girlfriend.” Bonnie, I think. She’s seventy-three and beat him at backgammon nine times in a row before he finally declared his love. The left half of his face lines up with the top of her head, and the caption reads, “Lunch is outside today.”

My hidden amusement grows at the follow-up message.

Lots of squirrels though.

It’s amazing what proper care and hope can do for a person. The man who didn’t seem like he’d last another week three years ago is now enjoying life like he’s in his prime. He deserves it after all he gave up for me. He’ll never know what I’ve given up in return.

Your life.

Your freedom.

Your soul.

At age twenty-five, I was supposed to be something else. I’ll never know what because I lost the chance to dream. Because life—they—forced me down a splintered path. They thought their cruelty would save me from myself, that they were carving my “weak spirit” into protective scars. They made me granite, and where did their road to salvation lead? Trapped as a pawn in a sadistic criminal enterprise.

Same story, different villain.

I was born a dreamer. I don’t even know what I am now.

A reluctant monster infected by life.

Perched on shattered heights.

Waiting to fall.

God, if only I could fall.

“Interesting news?” Abe asks.

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