Fisher's Light

“I never hated it, and I never felt like I was stuck here,” I argue.

“Jesus, you just don’t quit, do you? What do you want from me? Why are you even back here?”

I sigh, realizing quickly that this conversation is not going in the direction I wanted it to.

“I heard some things about you not being able to afford it and I’m concerned, okay? I mean, what happened to all the money I sent you? Why didn’t you use it for that place?”

She pushes herself up from the blanket and snatches up her purse angrily. “Screw you AND your fucking money, Fisher. I got your money and it made me sick. Every Goddamn month for thirteen months, I got another bank statement in the mail about those stupid automatic deposits. It’s bad enough your father always made me feel like the whore who took advantage of his son’s money, I never thought you would stoop so low. I don’t want your money. I NEVER wanted your money. You can take your money and shove it up your ass. Why don’t you concentrate on making things right with the people on this island who still love you and care about you? You know, the ones that you went ballistic on before you left? Do something constructive while you’re here and stop pissing me off.”

She turns and storms off across the beach, leaving me there with my mouth wide open. What the hell was she even talking about? Monthly deposits? Jesus, this is not good. Not only is it glaringly obvious that she still hates me, I have to worry about trying to hide a fucking hard-on when I get up from this blanket and retrieve my clothes from the hut, since I didn’t change out of my wet suit before I walked over here. Fucking hell…she’s never spoken to me like that before. Never really raised her voice and certainly never cursed a blue streak like that. My Lucy has gotten herself a backbone and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

Getting up from the blanket, I yank it up from the ground and shake off the sand. Not only do I have to figure out a way to get Lucy to forgive me and fall in love with me again, now I have to figure out what the hell she was talking about and try to smooth things over with that. I’ve got some serious questions for my grandfather right now. I have a strange suspicion he’s behind the deposits Lucy was talking about and I might just kick his ass. She had a good point, though, in the middle of her tirade. I need to make things right with the other people in this place I screwed over a year ago. In order for her to see that I’ve changed, I need to fix everything I messed up.

Not just with her, but with everyone.

Chapter 15

Fisher’s Therapy Journal

Memory Date: April 8, 2014 – 9:12 PM

Bobby is yelling at me, but I have no idea what he’s saying. I can see his mouth moving, his arms flailing all over the place, but the only thing I hear is the sound of Lucy’s cries from this afternoon. They echo through my brain, piercing my skull and forcing me take another drink just to try and quiet them. Everything is fuzzy and the room spins so quickly I don’t know how I haven’t fallen off the fucking chair I’m sitting on. I just want to go home. I want to go to our little yellow house on the water and tell her it was all lies. I want to crawl into bed with her and touch her face and tell her I didn’t mean any of it. Then I look over Bobby’s shoulder and see a group of insurgents holding their guns at us and I realize I can never do that.

“Go away. Just go the fuck away and leave me alone!” I shout.

I’m talking to the assholes standing behind Bobby with guns pointed as us, but Bobby thinks I’m talking to him and he walks away.

I need another drink. The drunker I get, the harder it is to focus on the swirling images around the bar that keep morphing into the enemy.

“You look like you could use another drink.”

I sway a little to the side when I hear a female voice right in my ear. Maybe it’s Lucy. Maybe she ignored everything I said to her and came back to me. I know it’s wrong and she shouldn’t be here, but I just need her right now. I can see her one more time and then I’ll walk away.

Looking down at the table, I watch as a glass of whiskey is placed in front of me. I grab it before someone takes it away and chug the entire thing, slamming the glass back down on the table.

“I’m sorry, I love you,” I slur as I reach my hands out to Lucy, grab onto her hips and pull her onto my lap.

She doesn’t feel the same and she doesn’t smell the same, but none of that matters. Her legs straddle my thighs and I clutch onto her ass, pulling her closer so she doesn’t change her mind and leave me.

“Please don’t go, I’m sorry,” I mumble brokenly as I rest my head on her shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere, sugar, don’t you worry.”

I don’t like her voice. It’s not the same soft, sweet cadence that always makes my ears tingle and my heart beat fast. It’s probably because my heart died and there’s nothing inside my chest but a shriveled up, useless organ. This voice is shrill and annoying. Lucy is changing right before me, but I don’t care. It’s my fault, anyway. It’s my fault she’s different and doesn’t feel the same or smell the same. I changed her, I hurt her…all my fault.

I lift my head and try to focus on her eyes, but all I see are blurry images and swirling faces.

She rocks her hips against me and my dick is instantly hard for her, just like it always is. I want to be inside of her. It’s the only place where I truly exist and can forget about the things I’ve done.

I feel her tongue trace against my bottom lip and something makes me want to pull away. She doesn’t taste the same and I hate it. I want my Lucy, not this drunken, morphed version of her. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">