Lorelie Brown - Riding the Wave

But Mako was shaking his head. “Thanks, but, no.”

“What the hell do you want from me? Thanksgiving dinners?” The words flew sharp from Tanner, but he couldn’t come close to stopping them. They swelled up from a dark and sickly place inside him that had been brewing for almost ten years. “I don’t fucking think so.”

Mako’s eyes narrowed further and his chin tipped farther forward. “Oh look, it’s like talking to Hank all over again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Thanks, brother, but I’ve got that much covered at least.” The smile he spooled out was incredibly smug and had a sharp edge of cobra to it. As dangerous as he’d always thought the man. “These California girls really do know how to make a guy feel good. And they’re so fucking gullible.”

“You’re pretty fucking smarmy, aren’t you?” That Tanner had been right about Mako all these years was a strange, unpleasant mix of vindication and distaste.

Avalon was a local girl, but she wasn’t gullible. Not by far. The idea of Mako taking advantage of her made Tanner’s skin crawl. He wouldn’t let it happen, not to her or to anyone like Sage, either. They were his important people, not this guy. Not Mako.

“Fuck you,” Tanner said again, this time more slowly. He wanted the words to drive home. He wanted to hurt Mako like his very existence hurt Tanner.

“So creative. Good to know what I’m up against.”

“Christ, why do we have to be up against anything?” Tanner shook his head. “Can’t we go our separate ways? You know what? I’ll start it.” He waved briefly and turned away. “Have a good life. Peace out.”

“I wanted to warn you that I did an interview with SURFING.”

Tanner’s feet stuttered to a stop. “Like hell.”

“It should be out the week of the Pro.” Mako’s jaw hollowed, a sharp tic of muscle right in front of his ear. “I didn’t pull any punches, either. It’s all out there.”

“You don’t have the right to wreck my mom’s and sister’s lives.”

Mako shook his head. The sun had dropped below the far line of the sea, swamping the town with dark. It seemed pretty appropriate for the discussion. Be damned if Tanner actually wanted to look at Mako.

“I think the world has the right to know what their precious surf idol was really like. Including the fact that he married your mom when she was only eighteen.”

“And he was twenty. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It looks a hell of a lot less pretty when he’s in his thirties and takes up with my mom when she’s fifteen, doesn’t it?”

Tanner’s hands curled into determined fists. His dad might have made this fuckup but that didn’t mean Tanner was going to let it get any worse. “You can’t do this. Pull the article.”

“That’s not in my control.” Except the way that Mako smirked said maybe he didn’t give a shit anyway. He was wrecking things exactly the way he wanted to.

“I’ll make your life a living hell.” Tanner had money and he had position in the surf world. He wasn’t exactly sure what Mako’s weak point was, but if he threw all their dirty laundry out in the street, Tanner would dig until he made Mako pay.

Mako’s mouth pressed flat. “You might want to ask who owns your mom’s store.”

“She does. Nice try.” Tanner’s half brother hopped right on over to extortion. Good to know.

“No, I mean the building itself. Wright Break is on a thirty-year lease. Did you know that? Buying the building was never a priority to your dad.” Mako put an insidious emphasis on the last couple words, spitting them out with angry intent.

Tanner hadn’t known. The business had never been his priority, either. As a teenager, his head had been more focused on making the world circuit than running a tiny surf shop. As an adult, he’d known that his dad had cut him out of the will, so it really didn’t matter. But the place was still his mother’s lifeblood, the thing that kept her days filled.

Not to mention Sage’s surfboard shaping was done out of the back half of the building.

“You can’t evict them.”

“You sure, bro?” Mako was still spitting words around. The anger in the air was an almost palpable thing. “But as their landlord I can certainly inspect the premises. Introduce myself.”

“Stay the fuck away from them.”

Mako’s lips curled into a smile but Tanner didn’t feel particularly reassured. Pretty much the opposite. Bile rose at the back of his throat. The guy flat-out sucked. “No. I’m not withdrawing my interview. Plus, I’m meeting Eileen and Sage. I’m tired of being the dirty secret who has to hide in the corner. It’ll be up to you whether you . . . soften them up first.”

Tanner wanted to vomit. Right on Mako’s bare toes if at all possible. “I’m not sure who I want to punch more. You or Hank.” Tanner couldn’t take any more. He turned to walk away, but the twenty-year-old part of him that still fucking resented what he’d learned about his father couldn’t resist. He flipped a bird back over his shoulder.

“Nice. Classy,” Mako said. “I feel almost like a real brother.”

“One thing I can promise you,” Tanner said as he walked away. “You’ll never be my brother.”

The north side of San Sebastian was lined by a state park. The south side abutted the very pricey homes of Damian Cove. To the east were the outer edges of less nice suburban sprawl that covered vast stretches of Southern California—of course, that was the area where Avalon’s mother lived.

The dingy condo complex was made up of a half dozen buildings, each with eight units. The unit Candy lived in was at the far back of the setup, but at least it overlooked the pool. It was a green-tinged pool where the local teenagers smoked pot. What a bonus.

On second thought, Candy probably did count it as a bonus when she was running low from her own suppliers. Easy access to score.

Avalon hitched the bag of groceries she carried a little higher and rang the bell. Quiet chimes echoed on the other side, followed by the clattering of high heels.

“Coming. Hold your horses,” Candy called. She always sounded like she was about to laugh, if that made any sort of sense. Like she was always poised on the verge of looking for fun, anticipating finding a good time.

The door popped opened. At least Candy’s smile didn’t falter when she saw Avalon, not this time. “Darling,” she cooed, “what a surprise.”

Avalon lifted her eyebrows on a tiny flush of annoyance. “Funny thing. When my mom calls and asks me to come by, I usually do.”

“You’re so responsible like that.” Candy managed to make it sound like an indictment.

She fluttered a hand, then pushed back a heavy fall of bright blond hair. For an afternoon with no company expected, she was certainly dressed well. Her capris clung to a carefully maintained figure and the low-cut silk blouse showed off plenty of assets. The boyfriend she’d had during Avalon’s junior year of high school had paid for those.

Avalon had spent three weeks straight at the Wright house while her mom “recovered” from the surgery. Sure, the last week of recovery had been in Vegas, but, as Candy explained, sometimes a girl needed a little mental recovery after the physical stuff.

Avalon gave the brown bag in her arms a little wiggle. “Mind if I come in, Mother?”

“Oh! Of course not,” Candy said on a wide smile. She opened the door with an extra flourish and stepped back. Her four-inch heels clattered over linoleum as she led the way toward the kitchen.

Avalon set the bag on the island. Sometimes Avalon swore Candy dated blue-collar men so she could bring them home and have them do chores. Hopefully she’d date a tile worker soon. She could do with some new counters. The white tile had lost its glaze over the years and the grout needed replacing, but her mom would spend thousands on clothing before she sank a penny on home repair, if she could help it.

In the fridge, Avalon found nothing but a box of wine and stacked take-out boxes. She shook her head. “You live like a frat boy, Mom.”

Candy slipped onto a barstool. She already had a glass of white wine between her fingers. “That sounds a little like envy, darling.”

Avalon managed to hold back the snort as she filled her mom’s vegetable drawers with an assortment of fruit. She’d gotten the prewashed, precut versions along with a couple expensive tubs of ready-to-eat berries. If she hadn’t, the stuff would be wilting and molding the next time she came by.

Her mom liked stuff the easy way. She’d lived her whole life by the model, and in a way it was working out for her.

“I have good news,” Avalon said, but she kept her face carefully turned toward the fridge. There were certain concessions she had to make in order to keep at least a semblance of a mother-daughter relationship going. One of those meant not looking her mother in the eyes at certain times, in order to not see the disappointment.

“Oh?” Even without looking, Avalon could picture Candy’s carefully manicured, filled-in brows lifting and her highly lipsticked lips parting. “Did you finally snag yourself a man?”

The sting didn’t go away, not even when compared to the hot rush of thoughts of Tanner. The two feelings wove together under her skin in an uncomfortable mix.

That mixed slush of feeling was one of the hardest parts of her relationship with her mother. Avalon had never been able to come to terms with the fact that she still desperately loved the same woman she resented.

She shook her head, carefully keeping her hands from shaking as she loaded a package of pineapple slices in the bottom drawer. “No. I got an awesome commission.”