Chasing Forever Down (Great White Surf Saga, #1) [Wattpad Featured Story] | ✔

Chapter 9: A.J. Gonzalez

We don't leave the hotel until after Linzi has modeled all three of her bikinis and decided which one will look best flying through the air on a jet ski. I've told her it doesn't matter and that the lifejacket will cover it, but that doesn't faze Linzi. Her final decision is the hot pink one with the shimmery silver flowers. She hauls our beach bag into Strickland's Boating for safekeeping while we're out on the water. Alston is waiting in his bright orange swim trunks, but Reed is dressed in khaki shorts and a white polo work shirt.

"Reed forgot about the annual old man sailboat club," Alston says after kissing Linzi hello.

"The what?" Linzi asks.

Reed props his elbows on the counter. "All the old dudes around here get together and go sailing and talk about business and mistresses and brag about who has what," he says. "I have to be here to grant their every boating wish."

There's no way he forgot about this. If it's a yearly get together of the richest guys around, it's probably marked on the calendar with a huge dollar sign since the last time they got together. He knew this was today, and that's why he invited us jet skiing. He has another plan.

"So I'm a third wheel then?" I assume, even though I don't know how that's supposed to run me off. Linzi can suck face with Alston while I find a way to legally trespass onto Colby's property.

"No," Reed says. "I wouldn't do that to you. A.J.'s going to fill in for me, but he's fun. Life of the party. You'll love him."

Life of the party is probably translation for wild party boy who is going to do everything he can to scare me away. I can see the stolen photo perfectly even though it's sitting on the hotel's nightstand. Blonde hair, messy surfer shag. Brown eyes. Five o'clock shadow. Beer in hand. At least his wild ass is gorgeous.

Alston fills Linzi in on the best spots for jet skiing, making mention of the cove and how awesome it is to jump waves on a jet ski. Reed jumps in rambling about speed and adrenaline, and Linzi is bouncing in her flip flops in a matter of seconds. All of their words run together until the bell over the front door announces the arrival of a tattooed Mexican guy in a white muscle shirt.

"Strick, man, if I die today, make sure they name a cell after me over at county, alright?" he says, walking under the fluorescent lights toward us.

"Fucking moron," Alston mutters. "You can't stay out of lockup, can you?"

"Nah, let me tell you what happened," the guy says.

He stretches his arms out over the counter, stretching the turquoise dragon on his arm too. Its orange eyes watch me.

And his story begins. "I was taking down all those election signs near the cove. All that conservative bullshit everywhere, all around Taylor's house, so I ripped that shit up. Then Deputy Jackass Pittman hauled me in for vandalizing government property. Government property my ass. It's fucking cardboard."

He pushes his sunglasses up into his messy black hair. His eyes are bloodshot; he either hasn't slept or he's high...or possibly both. He turns around, propping both elbows behind him against the counter. A skull carved into a crescent moon is tattooed just under his shoulder on his upper arm. It's surrounded by little black stars. This guy is one of the last people I'd expect to give in to the crescent moon gimmick, but then again, he is wearing one of those stupid white shell necklaces.

"Damn, I need a cigarette," he says.

"You can smoke on the beach," Reed says, pointing to the back door.

Tattoo Guy pulls a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of his shorts and heads toward the back door, but Reed grabs his arm and pulls him back.

"Hold up," Reed says. "You've gotta meet them. That's Haley...and Linzi." He points to each of us as he says our names. Then he looks at me. "Haley, this is A.J. Gonzalez, your right-hand man for the day."