Bad Influence 1

468 59 6
                                    


Joel groaned, reaching for the back of his head.

The more he came to, the more pain burst over his body.

He was on the floor of his boat, and it was still night.

And he had no idea how long he'd been out.

Sera. Fucking Sera of all people had shown up here.

And she hadn't come alone.

Joel couldn't remember the last time he thought about her, but she'd been thinking about him.

Every ounce of blood was sitting in his head, from that son of a bitch hanging him off his own boat.

He didn't know what hurt worse, the throb in his chin from her sucker punch or bridge of his nose from that big fucker's.

A groan wrenched from him as he braced himself to stand. His hand planted the ground but he didn't move his legs.

Damn it!

He almost had her. His hand was an inch from her face before that asshole yanked him back.

Just a few minutes was all he needed.

Creaking steps shot his eyes into his living room.

Someone was on his boat.

Them still?

He scrambled to stand, gnashing his teeth at the weakness in his legs.

There was nothing close to grab to protect himself.

"Baby? Baby?" Monica rushed through the living room. "Joel-"

She caught sight of him outside trying to straighten.

"Oh my God!" She came closer. "Are you alright?"

He raised a hand to halt her, knowing he couldn't take the touch.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"I saw Phil's guys outside when I drove up."

"What?" Alarm shot up his back.

"They were chasing after somebody on a bike," she answered quickly.

"They saw you?" A fresh wave of anger hit, part of him wanted to grab her and shake the stupid wide eyed look off her face.

"No. I was fuckin' scared so I hid until they were gone." She looked back at the knocked over food and beer. "What happened?"

He pushed past her to reenter the living room.

In addition to the mess on the floor, a candy wrapper sat on his counter.

His eyes trailed the short hall to his bedroom. Then his own words echoed in his head.

Ignoring the pain he rushed toward the room, immediately going to his shifted mattress.

The cash box was in the same place it always was, but empty.

Mentioning the money was supposed to catch her off guard.

Then he got caught off guard.

"Fuck! Fuck!"

He stumbled back into the leaving room.

The whole stash was gone.

Buzz filled his head

"Sera Hunter - she showed up at the bar tonight. She was asking about you."

Monica immediately shrank back from his expression.

"You told her I was here?"

"No! No." She stumbled back. "I told her I didn't know where you were."

"What did you say?"

"I told her you had a drug problem." Her words tripped over. "That you were all over. I tried to throw her off."

His teeth flashed. Even that little bit of strain hurt his throat from getting choked out.

Joel's breath came in deep.

Why did he tell her about the money?

"Baby," she started softly. "What happened?"

He didn't need this shit. Grimacing, he flung his hand to the floor. "Pick up the food."

Monica turned worried eyes away, leaning down to pick up the tossed takeout.

He checked a window, looking for any of Phil's fat fuck crew.

"I think she was on that bike too," Monica said. "It was so dark and crazy, but I saw her. They did this?"

Joel pulled from the window, cursing under his breath.

"You got any money on you?"

"What?" She looked at him like he had three heads. "Like 200."

Worthless.

What a fucking night. And things were going from bad to worse.

He picked up his phone from the ground, thankfully the busted beer hadn't hit it.

The whole room smelled like an anheuser bush factory.

Fingers tightened around the phone as the face lit.

Now he had to make the call he never wanted to make.

**

Nomad's BabyWhere stories live. Discover now