Ships in the Night

Prologue

[Prologue]

*Kol*

August 10, 2016

"Kol! Come on! We were just kidding!" Marcus, my former friend shouts from atop the roof deck bar. I don't even glance back in his direction as I navigate my way through the restaurant that quickly became our favorite during our vacation. 

Bud&Alley's restaurant and bar is right on the beach, overlooking the ocean. Sand litters the floorboards as I walk along the pathway towards the beach. I try to drown out the music that plays behind me, the laughter of the patrons.

I know their laughter is unconnected by the rage brewing up inside of me, but every one is a dagger to my heart and only fuels the flame. They might as well be laughing at what Marcus said. 

"Be careful with this one, Suzie." Marcus says, speaking to the bartender who sets my drink beside me. I look over at Marcus with an arched eyebrow. His eyes are slightly red, his vision unfocused. 

Suzie is a local who has been kind enough to show my friend and I the area. She's cute, with brown hair cut in a pixie style with a nose stud. Her arms have elegant tattoos and her honey brown eyes are always glittering with mischief... Much to Marcus's liking. 

Marcus is always one for adventure. An interest in Suzie grew right off the bat, for Marcus. For her, it seems her eyes are on someone else. I never encouraged it, I knew our summer vacation had an end date. Soon, we were going to head back to our town, far away from Santa Rosa Beach, Florida. 

Suzie meets Marcus's eye, a look of confusion upon her face. Marcus says, "Liquor makes his arm swing, just like his old man. Isn't that right, Kol?" 

I grit my teeth, my hands forming into fists at my side as I walk to the beach. I need a breath. I need a moment to collect myself. I have never swung my arm at anyone, or anything. But my father... My father swung so many times, he'd rival Mike Tyson. 

Liquor makes his arm swing. It didn't have to be liquor. It could have been a look that he thought was unwarranted. It could have been a sigh he didn't want to hear. It could have been a breath at the wrong moment. Anything could have set him off. 

I walk until my feet hit the chilling water of the Atlantic Ocean. My toes curl into the wet sand and I let out a few deep breaths, closing my eyes. Just because my father hit my mother, does not mean I'd ever hit a girl. The thought sickens me. It twists my gut. 

How dare Marcus accuse me of such a thing. 

I run a hand through my hair, gripping it with my fingers. It's grown too long over the summer and I'm due for a hair cut. I prefer it short, an inch long at most. Right now, I'd say I'm sporting about three inches. 

Praise God this summer is now over. I just graduated college with a degree in accounting and I already have a job lined up for me, courtesy of a friend back at home. David should have been on this trip with me. Not Marcus.

I hear a splash from off to my left and I open my eyes to see if perhaps it was a fish jumping out of the water. However, I see something entirely different. My eyes land on a girl twirling in the water, her arms stretched out at her side, her head thrown back. Her blonde hair is long, fanning out and glimmering under the moonlight. Her white and pink sundress do the same, mimicking that of a ballerina's dress. 

She looks so young and untouched by the cruelties of stress and responsibilities. I can't help but admire her free spirit, a bitter taste of envy settling on my tongue.