Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(93)

Just as I’m talking myself into the idea, a hand slaps down on my shoulder from behind.

“Let me get two beers,” a familiar voice tells the bartender.

I glance over to find my uncle taking the stool beside me. Fucking hell.

“Gary,” he says to the drunk who was getting in my face. “Why don’t you get on home to the missus?”

“Super Bowl’s on,” a belligerent Gary slurs, jerking a hand toward the TV. “Can’t expect me to leave during the Super Bowl.”

“That’s a rerun of last year’s game,” Levi replies with the patience of a saint. “Super Bowl’s next month, Gary. Now you better go home to Mimi, yeah? Sure she’s about to send the dogs after you.”

“That damn woman.” Gary grumbles his way to opening his wallet and throwing down a few bills on the bar. He mutters something about can’t let a man drink then teeters his way outside.

Despite wanting to knock his teeth in mere seconds ago, I can’t help but stare with a bit of concern after the stumbling man.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get about a quarter mile on foot before she finds him passed out in the weeds,” Levi says. “He’s fine.”

I look at my uncle in suspicion. “Mac send you?”

“Evan texted me. Said you left in a hurry.”

Of course he did. Because Mac would’ve run right to her new best friend so they could talk shit about me. I’ve had it up to my fucking eyeballs with those two ganging up.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter, leaving no room for argument.

“Good,” he shrugs, “I came here to drink.”

Levi tosses back his beer and trains his eyes on the TV, never once sliding a glance my way. It’s a relief. At first. Then an hour goes by. And another. And soon, I’m as drunk as Gary was when he left, and my mind is torturing me with all the shit that went down tonight, from finding my life savings stolen to the fight with Mac on the beach. Replaying broken bits of the conversation in my head, I can’t quite remember what I said to her, but I’m certain it wasn’t good.

“Shelley came back,” I finally say, the alcohol loosening my tongue. “For two days. Then made off with my life savings.”

Levi makes a full quarter turn to stare at the side of my face.

“Twelve grand.” I draw circles in the condensation ring on the bar with my cardboard coaster. “Poof. All gone. Right out from under my nose.”

“Jesus. Got any idea where she ran off to?”

“Nope. Baton Rouge, maybe. But that was probably bullshit. A lot of difference it makes. She’s not coming back this time. No way.”

“I’m sorry, Coop, but that woman is no good.” Levi drains his beer and plunks it down. “I got tired of apologizing for my brother a long time ago. I make no excuses for him. He left you boys in a bad way with all those debts. But that goddamn Shelley ain’t lifted a finger to help in all these years.” Bitterness colors his tone. “You and Evan have worked so hard to dig yourselves out. Now she struts in and rips all that out from under you? Hell no. Not on my watch.” His hand comes down hard on the splintered wood bar, jarring my whiskey glass.

I’ve never seen my uncle this upset. He’s a quiet guy. Steady. For years, he bit his tongue while Shelley popped in and out as she pleased. After he eventually became our guardian, he never once made us feel like a burden for it. Hearing him talk this way is about as close to spitting mad as I’ve heard him get. For all the good it does us.

“What is there to do?” I feel as bitter as he looks. “There’s no catching up to her now. If she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be.”

My gut still twists with anger. For the money, sure, but more so for the humiliation. The betrayal. For all the ways this woman has made a fool of us over the years. And we’ve taken it. How Evan still thinks, maybe—even when he knows better—maybe this time it’s real. Goddamn Shelley.

“We ain’t licked yet,” Levi tells me. “And we’re done enabling that woman’s bad behavior, you hear me?”

Before I can answer, he signals someone at the opposite end of the bar. “Steve, hey, got a question for ya,” Levi hollers.

Following my uncle’s gaze, I spot the off-duty cop whose uniform shirt is open to expose a sweat-stained white undershirt.

“What do you need, Levi?” Steve hollers back, because in the Bay, everyone knows everyone.

“How might we go about pressing charges against someone who skipped town?”

What? My startled gaze flies to my uncle, but he’s focused on the cop.

Shaking the glaze out of his eyes, Steve sits up straighter. “What we talking about?”

Levi’s tone is grim. Deadly, even. “Grand larceny.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT


MACKENZIE

Even Daisy has given up on me. At first, she scampered around my feet as I paced the house, typing then deleting texts to Cooper. Next she sat with her chew rope beside the refrigerator when I compulsively cleaned the kitchen. Which is fucked up, because I’ve never been a stress cleaner. How could I? I grew up in a house full of maids. When the vacuum comes out, Daisy bolts. I don’t blame her. I’m terrible company at the moment anyway. But when spotless floors fail to ease my anxious mind, I end up in Evan’s room, where Daisy is curled up at his feet as he plays a video game.