smokin' | louigan

thirty-seven

jack robbins owns one of the sh*ttiest liquor stores in oceanside, new jersey. it's a crime sweet spot. robbers bring their apprentices there to practice. there are enough condoms in the bathroom to conceive at least ten children from. the storefront windows have been replaced too many times to count.

and he's a pretty sh*tty person too. he's probably fifty, with a huge head of chestnut curls and a mustache a thirteen-year-old would be jealous of. he's small and round and gray, with enough cigarette butts in his frighteningly large ashtray to stink up the whole store.

so as louise roughly pushed the singular glass door open, stomping into the brightly-lit store in her black sneakers, the scent of cigarettes wasn't disgusting but inviting. it reminded her of him, of the f*cking idiotic boy inhabiting her older sister's bedroom.

logan bush was a f*cking god. he's got a halo of buzzed hair and eyes the shade of hail storms. and his words were like pieces of hail, sharp and jagged pieces cutting into her back.

because he was right.

through louise's thick ego she could see the truth in his words and it pained her, knowing she was...she was...

wrong.

just the word itself made her want to run for the hills. ever since she was young, her vicious attitude and sarcasm carried her through everything, from battling old schoolteachers to negotiating her curfew with her parents.

she passed the aisle of beer and immediately turned down the familiar aisle full of hard liquor. her eyes skimmed the shelves before she found her usual, a 40-ounce bottle of tanqueray gin.

jack watched her from the corner of his eye as he plucked yet another cigarette from the pack in his pocket. his lighter was gold plated, and once louise caught the words 'semper fi' engraved on the front when he offered to light up her own cigarette. d*mn logan bush, f*cking reminders of him everywhere.

when she arrived at the counter the bottle was already a quarter empty. jack rubbed his eye, watched louise's small tan hand wipe her mouth.

"y'know, kid," he started, voice gratingly raspy, "i should charge you extra for drinking unpurchased merchandise." louise just pulled a fifty from her jacket pocket with a small sigh.

"you know i'm gonna buy it anyway, jack. i'm good for it, always."

"damn right you are, belcher. my best customer, save for your mother." louise managed to crack a small smile at the joke, though jack could see it pained her to do so.

"keep the change, and buy your grandkid that new bike helmet, alright?" he puffed his cigarette, blowing the smoke in a thin stream toward the ceiling. he watched the smoke expand into a cloud before it faded just as quickly as it came. he couldn't even bare to think about the dusty photo of a five-year-old girl on an orange bike in his wallet, his dead daughter, the girl's mother, holding on to her shoulders.

when his gaze returned forward louise was gone, the front door's bell ringing softly as it clicked closed. she was already chugging down another gulp of gin, her favorite. the taste was familiar on her tongue, and she welcomed the slow-burn warmth flooding through her.

she walked under a harsh orange street light. when she turned her head, she could see the wonder wharf amusement park rides. only the moon cast light over them, the empty ferris wheel and wooden roller coaster, which surprisingly hadn't fallen yet, again.

she was reminded of her first 'date' with logan (it wasn't really official but she'd always liked to think it was). he had brought her underground to some party; she could still remember the strobing blue lights of the club striking across his body, his hands on her hips as they danced.

a tear slipped from her eye. she continued walking, her pace increasing. when she reached the beach, she climbed over the fence effortlessly. she didn't care about the sand slipping into her sneakers as she walked toward the water, because all she could feel was this practically agonizing restriction in her chest and stomach.

i want him. imiss him.

i need logan.

she pulled her cell phone from her pocket, the number she wanted right on speed dial.

"rudy. meet me under the boardwalk, ten minutes." louise adjusted the left shoulder strap of her dress, her free hand wiping a fresh tear from her cheek.

a.n //

hey everyone! so sorry for the hiatus. i've been working on another book [shameless promo, but if you like bbc sherlock go read it and give it love] and i also just started my first year of college/university so i've been getting adjusted to that.

but do not fret! i've got a lot of the remaining plotline planned so i've just gotta write it and publish. i'm thinking that i'll try to update every friday from now on, so make sure you keep this book in your library to get notifications of updates!

anyway, enough about my freaking book. i hope you all are okay and loving life and having a great time wherever you are!!! good vibes for good readers, amirite?

oh boy, time for me to sign off. once i say 'amirite' that means i gotta go to sleep. bon nuit!

- sxbjective :-)