I gave in.
I agreed to fly to Fiji (the one place I’d always wanted to visit as a kid) and live a little before burying myself in my new company in England. He wanted me to sample freedom before I shackled myself to a long-term commitment.
He wanted me to have fun.
Ha!
After everything that’d happened, he thought I knew what that word meant.
I have no bloody clue.
How could he expect me to be an average twenty-seven-year old bloke after the history I’d already clocked up? Even now, he still looked at me like the golden son...not the black stain I’d become. I didn’t deserve fun. Not after what I’d done; especially at a time he needed me the most.
Fun.
I hated the word.
And even if I did remember how to indulge, I wouldn’t waste my time on girls and booze because I had a driving need to create something from nothing after I’d destroyed everything. I had a lot of sins to make up for, and if my father wouldn’t let me start atoning at home, well, I would have to find another way.
I’m a bastard, pure and simple.
I hated that I’d lied when conceding to his terms. I’d looked him in the eye and agreed to go to Fiji under the proviso of sunbaking, drinking, and having a one-night stand or ten. However, instead of reserving a bed in a gross backpackers with other self-centred idiots, I volunteered my skills to a local firm who built homes for under privileged locals.
I needed to find redemption before I drove myself insane with sickening memories and overflowing self-hatred.
Only thing was, the company expected me to start work first thing tomorrow. Otherwise, they’d give the contract to another applicant. No tardiness. No excuses. Be there or miss out.
I won’t miss out.
Trudging onto the plane, my mind skipped to the last time I’d seen my father. Over six months had passed since our last embrace. He’d slapped my back and whispered in my ear. “Learn, study, and behave. But once your training is up, fly to Fiji, get lost in warm seas, and remember how to live. Then come home refreshed and I’ll do whatever you want to make your business a success.”
He’d even pulled the cheap shot guaranteed to make me crumple like a little kid. He’d argued that if Mum were still alive, she would’ve said that work didn’t equal a life, even if it was a passion. There were other important things and having unplanned experiences was one of them.
Asshole.
Poor, grieving asshole.
Me, too. We were both grieving assholes, missing the one person who gave our souls purpose only to ruin us when she died.
What happened wasn’t her fault.
My nostrils flared, pushing her out of my mind.
I pulled the crumpled boarding pass from my back pocket, trying to find my seat.
Goddammit.
Fifty-nine D. Right down the back of the plane.
The thought of having to squish around people pissed me off. But the sooner I was seated, the sooner I could pull out my headphones and lose myself in a movie.
Waiting for a family to shove their luggage into the overhead compartment, I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and pulled out my phone. I’d promised my father I’d text him before we took off. Ever since losing Mum, he’d been neurotic at the thought of losing me.
Tapping a generic ‘I love you and talk to you soon’ message, I pressed send.
Huh, that’s strange.
I tapped the screen, waiting for confirmation that it’d sent. However, the sending icon just swirled around and around, never connecting.
The family finally slid into their row, granting me the freedom to carry on down the aisle.
Giving up on the message, I shoved the phone back into my jeans and hurried to my seat. An air-hostess stood blocking it. She backed away when I raised an eyebrow.
“You’re lucky last, huh?” Her red hair caught the glare of false illumination.
“Yup. That’s me. Always lucky.”
Luck had nothing to do with it. I was the opposite of luck. I was misfortune.
The air-hostess disappeared to help another with their seating.
I stowed my luggage, slammed into my chair, and looked out the window.
The memory of my mother’s struggle and what happened afterward clenched my heart as passengers settled and the cabin prepared for flight.
A flash of blonde caught my eye as I scanned my fellow travellers. The flight wasn’t full, providing a good view across to the other side of the plane.
That girl again.
Her carry-on, as she wedged it above her head, looked fit to explode like a shrapnel grenade.
She was pretty—very pretty.
There was something about her. Something intrinsic—something that singled her out and made me notice.
Long blonde hair, translucent skin...large hazel eyes.
She deserved to be investigated and appraised. I was interested.
When our gazes met at the boarding gate, I’d felt the first hint of normalcy in over five years. I liked that she’d affected me, but I also wouldn’t let it happen again.