Songs of Red Currant Wine (Colors of Love Book 6) by V.L. Locey

Author:V.L. Locey [Locey, V.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-20T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Tuesday morning was unpleasant. The cops, who I knew from coaching and bar hopping, had been cool, for the most part. If I agreed to pay my tab at the bar, the five hundred dollar fine for public drunkenness, and sign up and attend a certified alcohol dependency group, they’d not push for the ninety days in jail. It was my first offense after all, and one of the older officers, Del Wheatley, had bent an elbow with me many a time. Del was an okay fellow, talking down the bar owner then pouring coffee down my throat at the station then letting me sleep it off in one of two small cells. A modicum of fame and drunken nights pays off every once in a while.

Once I was out of the cell, and in possession of my personal effects, I checked my voicemails as I took a moment to light a cigarette. My car had been towed and would be released to me when I paid yet another fine. Fucking Julian.

Several texts were from Principal Ales. I had a suspicion I knew what those were about. Someone must have clued her in about my descent into the abyss. A city bus rolled up as I searched my messages and text for something from Tigh. Nothing. Figures.

He’s better off. You know that I’m right, Carl. Why drag him into the same pit you pulled poor Kara into? You don’t need anyone but me and the Captain. We got you, brother.

“Fuck off,” I mumbled, wishing I had some gum and a damn Tylenol. This whole mess was not my fault. It was Julian’s, and Pete’s and my stepson for not telling me he had a girlfriend. A moment later, I was escorted off the bus and told to walk if I wanted a free ride. So, I walked. Alone, at six a.m. on a chilly fall day. I managed to put one foot in front of the other until I found a coffee shop I could loiter in as I sent out a few texts. One to my ex-wife asking for a ride home. That one hurt my pride—a lot. Then one to my father asking if I could borrow some money. That one also hurt. I studied my phone for a long time, weighing if I should contact Tigh or not. Perhaps Julian was right. He didn’t need a fucked-up puck pusher like me in his life. He had youth, looks, skills, a future with a good man or woman. He was out of my league. The man deserved better. A car horn sounded off, startling me. I pushed off the wall I’d been lounging on while getting sour looks from the employees and saw Kara sitting by the curb in her pale blue Prius.

The cloud of disapproval was thick inside the compact car. “Please put that out. You know I quit two years ago.”

“Sorry.” I flipped my butt into a storm drain, closed the car door, and buckled up.

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