Unforgiven

I was given a receipt, as such, signed by Diego to say I owed him nothing more as of the current date – July 1960. Diego didn't want to sign it, but Carl worked on him until he did. Good 'ol Carl. He said he felt terrible about what had happened and even offered to foot most of the bill. But Ace wouldn't have it. He wanted to get rid of them for good, not feel like we still owed them something.

And so, the debt was paid. We partied for two days. But reality soon set back in. We were nearly broke – well, broke by our standards. We were down seventy grand, man. Shit. I wanted it all back quickly – to repay, compensate and please Ace who'd done so much for me. I wanted to go like a bull out of a gate. But we had to be ultra-careful now. We didn't know for sure if Kyle had blabbed to anyone. Ace said he was known to grass and that it was likely he had told his parents and maybe even Joe. Maybe even the cops. So, we started the boosts again slowly and painfully. There were too many nights where I'd have nothing to do except think about how much time I was wasting.

Granted, when I did go out, I kept to my word about taking someone with me. Two people, actually. Jack and Fuzzy, who Ace decided were trustworthy enough to recruit into the scene. Apparently, Billy and Charlie had big mouths, but nobody would tell me why everyone thought that. Jack and Fuzz had no prior knowledge about what their leader got up to when he wasn't drinking at Irby's and were blown away when we took them for a tour of the garage. They stared at everything in awe, not knowing what to say. They used to respect Ace because he was tough and untouchable for the most part, but now they'd learned what he was really all about.

For two weeks, I trained the newbies. It was handy always having a driver while the other two did a boost each. But we only went out three times a week and got a disappointing total of 12 cars. I did that by myself in a week once.

Putting fifteen thousand back into Ace's safe was mildly satisfying though, despite knowing how much more it could have been. And the opportunity for Ace to start cleaning the stuff had finally come around. He had talked about getting into a partnership with the other garage in Chamberlain that we delivered cars to when Ace's was full. But apparently, the arrangement was far more involved than just the one garage. There were a couple of big-wigs from Portland who owned more than ten companies, and they were looking to wash money for both garages. Ace and the owner of the other garage – Markus - would officially buy into the parent company and receive a percentage of their money back as wages, dividends and other bonuses. Anyway, they seemed to have it all figured out. And one day, Ace got off the phone and said they were finally ready to meet him and try to seal a deal.

Sukey's Tavern in Castle Rock was the meeting place of choice. Despite the meeting's ostensibly legitimate intentions, the big wigs liked to keep things low key. If that was the case, they couldn't have chosen any better – from what I'd heard, Sukey's was full of drunks and bums who'd barely look up from their drinks to see what was going on. Ace seemed very hesitant about going there though, and Markus had to talk him around. I couldn't think why at the time and he wouldn't tell me.

Anyway, it was there that we went. I'd never been before only heard about it. It was late, around 10pm, but with all the lights on, I could see the place well enough. The two-story building stood on its own block of dirt and looked old and worn down. Faded yellow paint was peeling off the wooden boards and there were cracks in some of the windows on the upper floors. Apparently, this building had some historical significance and was built in the 1880's to accommodate the lumberjacks and forestry workers who were the first to settle in the small town. That was considered the far outskirts of CR now, right by the cargo train station.

We stepped onto the veranda before pushing the creaky the door open and stepping inside. The décor was rough with the original wooden floorboards and fixtures still in place. And the air was smoky and dusty. I felt like I'd just stepped into a western movie. There were old men were everywhere, none under the age of 50 that I could see. I guessed the longtime residents had loyally stuck to what they knew instead of looking for a change at the Mellow Tiger or Irby's which were established much later. I didn't get time to see much more than that before Ace was hurriedly ushering me up the stairs to the second floor. This is where the lodging rooms were and, as Ace explained it, was mostly used for putting old drunks who were too sloshed to find their way home.

We knocked on the number we'd been told, and the door opened a crack. A guy with a wild mop of blond curls stuck his head out and then opened the door wider. Markus. The owner of the other garage I'd been filling in Chamberlain when Ace's was full. I had talked to him a few times, and I liked how he always had a laid-back air about him like nothing could go wrong. He was incredibly smart, especially when it came to wheeling and dealing, but he was also a workaholic. He was always at the garage like he had no life, and it was surprising to see him dressed nicely in a collared shirt for once instead of his usual ripped jeans smeared in grease and oil.

"Hey, Ace," he said enthusiastically, and the two slapped hands.

"Markus," Ace replied. "Been a while."

Markus noticed me standing there, and his big, sly blue eyes looked me over. "Err… I thought you were comin' alone."

"She's waitin' outside," Ace said.

"Sorry Cassie – no disrespect, but these guys wanna be discreet."

"I didn't even wanna come," I replied, and I glanced at Ace, reminding him of my disapproval of being dragged along. He'd become more and more watchful over me as the weeks wore on. I think he was mindful that Kyle would be on the mend, and there was no telling what he might try for revenge. Eyeball and Natalie were out of town on a weekend-long date, so they weren't available to babysit me, so there we were.

"Don't move and don't go downstairs," Ace warned me. I just rolled my eyes at him as he closed the door.

I didn't really care for going downstairs and mingling with the old guys, but once Ace was busy, down I went. Being cautious was one thing, being treated like a kid was another.

After all what could possibly happen?

The tavern had a very slow-paced vibe to it. There were maybe twenty guys milling around – some at the bar, some in the booths having a meal, and some playing pool on the few tables that were there.

At 18, I was very used to being kicked out of places that served alcohol, so I decided to politely ask the barman if I could stay for a few minutes. And do you know what? He asked me if he could get me something while I was waiting. The irony. But the poor old guy had noticeable cataracts in both eyes – he could probably hardly see me. He sure knew his way around his bar though, and I had a double-shot of JD's in front of me before I could think "why does Ace bother with Joe Irby when he could get served right here without a fuss?"

It didn't take long for me to learn the answer to that.

A familiar face that I never wanted to see again set eyes on me from two stools down. He was slouched over the bar so I hadn't seen his face at first and, if I had, I probably would have shot back upstairs before he noticed me. But now that he'd seen me, I didn't want to look like a wuss and run away.

"Wha'd you wan'?" he slurred with a mean glint in his eyes.

"I'm waiting for someone."

Mr. Chambers spun around on his bar stool, glass in hand, and sloppily spilt a small portion of whiskey across his lap. His eyes were glary and bloodshot, and he wobbled around on his stool like all sense of balance had left him. He looked one stage above being plastered and one stage below throwing up.

"You're lookin' for me. Tryin'a keep a watch on me! Fuckin' nosey social workers."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. I guessed nothing I said would get through to him.

"Now, that's no way to talk to a lady…"

The rough yet softly spoken voice that had arrived beside me sounded oddly familiar and yet not. I looked at him and had to do a double take because I didn't believe my eyes the first time.

"Is this 'ere botherin' you, Miss?"

His eyes were Ace's eyes, his mouth was Ace's mouth. The only thing he didn't have was Ace's youth. He may have had a couple extra pounds of flesh to lug around with him, but he still kept himself well-groomed. His appearance was slick with his neatly cut greying hair perfectly combed back, and he wore a tidy button up shirt rolled at the sleeves over casual jeans. All Ace told me about him was that his mom hated him, that he'd slept around on her, but not much more than that.

"Do you talk, little darlin'?"

"Uh… everything's fine. There's been a misunderstanding, that's all."

"What's a pretty lil' thing like you doin' in 'ere? Not too often we're… graced with the presence of a woman in these parts."

Hearing such words come out of a face so much like Ace's made me chuckle. "I'm waiting for someone who I believe is your-"

"Bah, it's bullshit," Mr. Chambers interrupted. "She's in here to check on me. Well, for your inframasion, my good for nothin' wife's home for once. So, I can come 'n drink for however fucking long I like!"

"Hey, hold on a second now, Cal," Ace's father said, placing a firm hand on Mr. Chambers shoulder. "Let the lady speak."

"Well if she ain't no social worker then tell me what she was doin' snoopin' 'round my place the other week."

"I was looking for Eyeball."

"Oh, you're his girlfriend then?" Mr. Merrill asked.

"No, I believe I'm with… your son?"

Mr. Merrill's eyebrows rose and so did his Ace-like ears. "Well, I'll be! The names Junior," he said cordially, extending his hand out towards me. "And with whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"My name's Cassie."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Cassie," he said and gently shook my hand.

Cal scoffed at the gesture and turned back to the barman to demand another drink.

"My son should know better than to leave a lady waiting on her own. Why don't I keep you company? Willie, get us some drinks, will you, old boy?" He gave me a charming grin – one just like Ace could pull – and cordially extended an elbow.

I didn't quite know what to make of the guy. I had my reservations because of what Ace had said, and yet I found him… intriguing. I linked my arm in his and he tipped his pretend hat and gently led me to a table in the far corner of the room, away from prying ears.

"Ignore Cal over there," Junior said. "He don't know what he's sayin'. The man's so angry with the world, he can't no longer see the good from the bad."

"Don't I know it? He has one of the most amazing kids in the world and treats him like dirt."

"Well, never known someone with such a high opinion of Richie Chambers."

I gently laughed. "I meant Chris. I was friends with him for a while. I mean… that's not to say… I mean, there's a lot to see in Eyeball too."

"Oh… Chris. Yes, the man has much resentment for the boy, but then… what if… Nah, I shouldn't say nothin'."

"You think he has an excuse for abusing his kid?" I spat. "There's no excuse. All Chris does is try to please the man."

"Well now, ain't that a pound of feist?" he grinned.

"Sorry. I just really feel for Chris. He's been through a lot in his short life."

"I can't dispute that. And things will probably never change. His resentment for the boy started before he was even born. It's no fault of the boy's – it's just the way it is. That man over there has an opinion, and nobody can convince him otherwise."

"I don't… understand," I said curiously.

"The rest isn't for me to say," he said.

Willie, the barman, placed our drinks in front of us and Junior handed him some cash to top up his tab. "Thanks old boy – keep 'em comin'."

After he went back to his bar, I asked Junior, "Just how much can he see?"

"Nothin' and everythin'," he laughed.

"Lucky for me, he can't tell I'm too young to be in here," I chuckled, and I took a sip of my drink.

"Why are you in here? Where's the boy?"

"He's… busy. He'll be here soon."

"Ah. Business deal upstairs, huh?"

I looked at him a bit surprised.

"I might not see him much, but I know my son. How long you been with him?"

"I dunno – three months, I guess? The days go so fast I lose track. It seems more like a year."

"Well, just sitting here with you now, I can already see you're good for him. Some of the damn floozies he's picked up over the years – well, guess I can't say nothin'. The apple don't fall far from the tree." Junior took a sip from his beer bottle. I was surprised he'd ordered beer. I dunno why but, I'd expected him to ask for the hard stuff. "He told you much about me?"

"Erm…" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat and cleared my throat. "A few things… I guess."

"Oh well… whatever he's said, it's probably true. But like I said, the apple don't fall far. So, you just keep a close eye on him. You've got a good, strong head on your shoulders, and Johnny needs someone like you to look out for him. If he starts to stray or let money or whatever it is go to his head, you give him the what's for and buck him back into shape. Keep the boy in line - you hear me? If only I had someone do that for me back in the day, I'd be thankin' them now. Sometimes we Merrill boys can forget what's good for 'em."

I gave him a look like everything he'd just said was a bit absurd. Ace and I were so good that it seemed irrational to think he might 'stray'. And he'd already had money – a lot of it – and that never went to his head. "I'll keep it in mind but, I don't think I'll ever need to do that."

"Well. Let's hope that's true." He raised his beer bottle. "To a good life and love."

I raised my glass and tapped it to his before downing the remainder of what was left.

"You know," he said, "I ain't had one of those in three years."

"Really?"

"I… met a new lady. And she changed me for the better. I married her, gave up the hard stuff, got a good well paying, honest job – she helped me turn myself around. And things have been just grand ever since."

"Wow, that's great. Good for you."

"Just wish I'd got it right the first time. Anyway, enough about me. So, how did Miss. Cassie come to find herself involved with a Merrill? Was it love at first sight?"

"Not exactly," I chucked. "Closer to the opposite."

"Ah. Well, speak of the devil…" Junior said, nodding towards Ace who'd just come down the stairs alone.

Ace laid eyes on the two of us sat there having a menial chat and a bit of a chuckle, and you could see him huffing under his breath over it as he approached us.

"Johnny boy!" Junior said, rising from his seat. "Long time no see. Here, take a load off. I'll get us another round of drinks." He courteously pulled out a third chair, but Ace looked far from willing to sit down and spend time with his old man.

"We're done here," Ace said to me. "Let's go."

"Aw, come now," Junior said. "No need to break up the party. We were just getting to know each other!"

Ace didn't diddly-dally. He didn't talk back to his old man, offer any explanation – nothing. He just took me by the hand and pulled me out of my seat before he half led, half-dragged me towards the front door. It happened so fast that I didn't really get to say goodbye. I looked over my shoulder and gave him a small smile while he said, "It was a pleasure to meet you," and that was that.

Ace took me back to the car, we got in and he slammed his door. "I told you to stay upstairs for a reason, and he was it."

"I got bored," I shrugged. "And how was I supposed to know he was there? You didn't tell me that! And anyway… it was a good chat." I didn't mean to be defiant, but I felt that maybe if I explained a few things to Ace I might be able to persuade him to at least consider talking to his father. At least he had one. I didn't.

"A good chat?" he scoffed. "What'd you talk about?"

"All sorts. If you wanted in on the conversation, maybe… you could have sat down with us?"

"I'm not sittin' at the same table as that asshole. I don't wanna be in the same room as him."

"Look," I sighed. "I know he wasn't the perfect father. And I know he did your mother wrong. But people change, Ace. He realizes his mistakes, and he regrets them."

Ace laughed a gritty laugh. "He wouldn't be sorry for anything if it shot him in the fucking foot. And don't try to tell me what 'you know'. You don't know shit, Cassie."

"So fill me in. How am I supposed to understand if you're so secretive about everything?"

"All I should need to tell you is what to do and what not to do, and I expect you to fucking do it!"

I flinched back a bit as his voice lashed out at me. I'd hit a nerve – that was for sure - but he'd just hit a nerve in me.

"Well, that doesn't work for me. I'm not your yes-man. I'm not your child. And if you stopped dragging me around everywhere like one, I wouldn't even be here right now!"

"If you're not worried about Kyle finding you alone again, then go right ahead! Do things your way!"

"Damn right I will!" I got out of the car and slammed my door before storming off.

"Where are you going!" he called after me, but I didn't reply. He fired up his '49 and peeled out of there, his tires kicking up the dust and streaming a trail of it behind him.

It was a stupid argument, especially the last half. He didn't really mean it like that, and we both spoke rashly. But in the heat of the moment, you don't always think about what you're saying, only what you're feeling. Being constantly babysat was one thing, but knowing the sheer amount of money I owed Ace and not being able to deal with it as hastily as I wanted to was driving me crazy. I felt like a dog straining to get off its chain. It was like needing to chop down a giant tree and only being allowed to use a chisel and a hammer to do it. After two weeks of chiseling, I was ready to take to it with a chainsaw.