Waiting Game: Ocean Bay #2

By Chloe Walsh

I lived my life by the three-never-rules.
1. Never back down.
2. Never break down.
3. Never look back.
The past was behind us for a reason. As for my past? Well, most of it felt like a dream – more like a horrible nightmare – and for years, I allowed myself to believe just that. Denial was my friend because my memories couldn't be trusted.
But now the girl I've adored since Pre-K is back in my town, back in my high school, and I'm losing control. The foundations around my carefully constructed world are cracking. My whole damn world is fracturing and falling apart at the seams. Molly comes with a whole heap of scars and a tidal wave of cold home truths. She thinks I'm some sort of hero. I can only pray she never discovers the truth...

***Warning***
Because of its explicit sexual content, mature themes, triggers, violence, and bad language, Waiting Game is suitable for mature readers of seventeen years and above.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chloe Walsh
• Release date: Mar 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463163375

Chloe Walsh

Chloe Walsh is the USA Today bestselling author of the Boys of Tommen series. She has been writing and publishing new adult and adult contemporary romance for a decade. Her books have been translated into multiple languages. Animal lover, music addict, TV junkie, Chloe loves spending time with her family and is a passionate advocate for mental health awareness. Chloe lives in Cork, Ireland, with her family.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Eight years ago

Molly

It was a little after dark. Daddy was away on business, and Mama was having one of her bad days and hadn't left the bed all day, which meant that I had ended up putting my baby brother Bobby down for the night.

I sat on the sidewalk outside of my house, studying the light dusting of blonde hairs on my legs that were illuminated by the street lamp, all the while listening intently to the vicious screaming coming from the house across the street.

It won't be long, I thought to myself, as I released a heavy sigh and stretched my legs out in front of me. It never was.

Right on cue, the front door across the street flew open and the voices that had been muffled before were loud and clear now.

That's right, you little bastard. Keep on walking.

Wren, please! He's just a child –

And don’t come back until you've found some manners!

Wren!

Better still, don’t come back at all.

Don’t beg that piece of shit for me, Mama. I don’t want a damn thing from him!

Did you hear that? Did you hear how that little bastard just spoke to me? I want him out of this goddamn house, Trish…

Glued to the spot, I watched as a glowering boy came thundering down the garden path with a backpack slung over his shoulder.

Hair so dark it was almost black in color stood up in forty different directions, matching the disheveled look about him.

Come on, Molls, he called out, not stopping when he rounded the white picket fence that surrounded his parents' beautiful home, and took off in the direction of the town. Let's bounce.

He didn’t even look to see if I was there because he knew I would be.

I was always there when he needed me.

Like the dutiful best friend that I was, I quickly climbed to my feet, shouldered my own backpack, and raced after him.

Struggling to keep up with his long strides, I puffed out a breath. Can you slow down? Panting, I snagged the back of his ripped t-shirt and tugged. My legs ain't as long as yours, D.

Not bothering to look at me, Daryl reached for my hand. Still moving like a speeding bullet, he held my hand in his and tugged me along. I could feel the tremors rolling through his tall frame and I knew that he was close to tears– something he hated doing.

I hate him, Molls, he finally broke the tension by hissing. I hate him so fucking bad.

Me too, I whispered, jogging alongside him to keep up.

The minute I'm old enough, I'm getting out of this shithole town, he vehemently vowed, tightening his hold on my hand. And I'm never coming back.

His words made me sad because I knew they were his truth.

My best friend would leave Ocean Bay.

And once he got a taste of freedom, away from his douchebag father, he would never come back.

I blew out a pained breath. Don’t leave without me, 'kay?

Huh?

Whenever you leave? I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Promise you'll take me with you.

His feet faltered and he turned to look down at me. You wanna come with me, Molly-Dolly?

I nodded honestly.

Okay. A small smile traced his lips. It's a promise.

Little did I know it was a promise that, only a few short hours later, would be crushed and broken.

1

Present Day

Molly

Lana Del Rey's Blue Jeans pumped from my headphones, drowning out the sound of my thunderous heartbeat, as I stared into my open locker after last period on Thursday afternoon and tried to get a grip.

You've been home two freaking years, Molls.

Today is just another mundane day in the snake-pit they call high school.

Nobody remembers you.

They don’t see you anymore.

Everything's fine.

Except that wasn’t true.

Because I was no longer invisible.

Because today, like every other day this week, he looked at me.

Spoke to me.

Acknowledged me.

Sat with me at lunch.

Smiled at me.

Ugh! Get a grip, dammit!

I could feel their eyes on my back, making my blood heat and my skin itch.

Shy, but determined not to let their curiosity unnerve me, I continued to gaze into my locker and pretend not to notice the stares.

I knew what my peers were all thinking, though.

I knew all about the horrible names they called me behind my back.

Just like that, the anxiety that gnawed at me daily quickly set in.

Dragging in a sharp breath, I forced myself to look at the girl staring back at me. The moment my gaze drifted over my reflection in the small mirror attached to my locker door, I recoiled with a pained flinch.

Stranger.

Foreign.

Monster.

Not me.

My breathing escalated to the point where I could feel a full-blown panic attack coming on.

Refusing to give in to the emotions or insecurities that were battering me from the inside out, I quickly grabbed a long-sleeved, oversized cardigan from my locker and draped it over my shoulders, concealing the purplish, crinkled flesh on my arms and chest from view.

From my view.

Because after eight years of looking at my disfigured reflection, I still couldn't make peace with the girl staring back at me.

Be grateful, I mentally chastised myself, you're still here.

Mama and Bobby hadn't been so lucky.

A freak house fire the night before my tenth birthday had robbed my father of his wife and son, robbed me of my mother and baby brother, and left me significantly disfigured.

Neither one of us had been the same afterwards.

Especially not my father.

He'd lost everything eight years ago and was left with a patched-up and less than perfect version of the daughter he'd had such high hopes for.

To this day, he was a mess, a shell of his former self, and did his best to thwart any of my attempts at being normal. I didn’t have a car and wasn't allowed to get one even though I had turned eighteen at the start of the month.

Strict in the extreme, some of my father's rules included no drinking, partying, sleepovers, smoking, candles in my bedroom, and even though I had never had a boy vie for my affection, dating was also a big no-no.

Dad said that he was trying to protect me, and in a way, I knew that was true. But I also knew deep down inside that he was ashamed of me. Of how I looked and of the fact that he would never raise a normal daughter.

Returning to Ocean Bay was the very last thing he wanted to do, and we both knew it. Coming home wasn't exactly a walk in the park for me either.

We had moved away right after the fire, specifically to be closer to the specialist doctors and burn unit dealing with my injuries. Many months spent in the hospital, not to mention countless skin grafts and surgeries, meant that I had lost contact with everyone from back home.

Months had turned into years, and before I knew it, I was almost sixteen years old and my childhood had passed me by.

I wanted my life back.

I wanted to put down roots again.

Most of all, I wanted to be closer to Mama and Bobby.

At the time, I figured I could do all of that here in Ocean Bay.

Fast forward a little more than two years later, and the only thing I had managed to achieve since returning to my hometown was to spend an ornate amount of time at my family's plot in the cemetery.

At least Mama and Bobby had fresh flowers most days.

Of all the places to let myself dwell on the fire, school was not it. I could not afford to loosen the armor I had bound tightly around my heart. Especially not when I was currently standing in the middle of the shark tank; aka The Academy.

Ocean Bay Academy was the elite – not to mention private – high school in our equally elite and uber wealthy town of Ocean Bay, Florida.

Unfortunately for me, my father was one of the uber wealthy, resulting in his only child being a reluctant student at OBA.

My dislike of The Academy didn’t mean that I longed to attend one of the local public schools instead. It simply meant that I didn’t want to attend school, period. I would have much preferred to be homeschooled.

Being back in my hometown felt like punishment rather than redemption like I had hoped. During my countless stays in the hospital, I had dreamed about returning to my friends and familiarity. I had prayed for a second chance at life – another chance to go home and see my best friend again. The boy that consumed my every waking hour since as far back as I could remember.

My dreams had made a fool of me.

No, this year is going to be different, I reminded myself. You're not going to sit on the sidelines anymore, Molly.

Instantly, I regretted the promise I had made to be more open and put myself out there for senior year. It was a decision I had made earlier this summer when the countless years of isolation and loneliness I had endured finally got the better of me.

At the time, I didn’t think that I could take another year of invisibility.

I needed someone to see me.

Now, I wasn’t so sure.

So far, senior year hadn't been as lonely as junior and sophomore year had been, I deduced. Since Mercedes – Mercy – James's arrival in Ocean Bay earlier in the summer, I finally had someone in this town to call a friend.

Fuck my life, Mercy, my recently acquainted, not to mention only friend, groaned, comically banging her head against a nearby locker, and thankfully distracting me from my tumultuous thoughts.

Tossing my iPod inside, I quickly slammed my locker shut and turned to face my friend, unwilling to take one final glance at myself in the mirror like most teenage girls would.

No, sir.

I had more than enough for the day.

Why me, god? Mercy continued to whimper and growl. One look at her and it was easy to tell that she was all riled up. "Why fucking me!"

Feathers ruffled or not, the girl was beautiful. Physically, Mercedes and I couldn’t look any more different. She was the polar opposite of my skinny frame and sun-bleached, blonde, pixie cut hair.

With glossy, black hair that reached her butt in length, curves to die for, and a fuck-the-world attitude, Mercy exuded a lazy sort of confidence.

Forced to move here when her flaky, single mom got knocked up and hitched to the town's hotshot property developer, Mercy didn’t care about the elite in Ocean Bay, and she didn’t give a damn about notoriety.

She couldn’t be bought or won over with money and popularity and those were the personality traits that were quickly making her my favorite person in this town. She was unfazed by it all, my scars included, and I loved her for that.

Know of any good brain surgeons around this neck of the woods, Molls? she asked, sliding a pair of sunglasses out of her school skirt and slipping them on. Because I'm in dire need of a lobotomy.

What did he do now? I eyed her up and down, my curiosity piqued. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was flustered. Fighting with her – recently acquired – stepbrother was her favorite thing to do in the world. Besides, I knew she had a double period of Biology with Ms. Black on Thursday afternoons. With her stepbrother. I presume this outburst has something to do with Rourke?

Ugh. She held up a hand and moved for the exit, with me tagging along after her. Please don’t talk about he-who-should-have-been-swallowed. Her face turned a bright shade of pink. Not when I've just had to endure two classes with his smug ass perched next to me.

Y'all are lab partners now?

Unfortunately.

"Uh-huh. Now, is that partners in Biology or…Chemistry?"

You suck.

I attempted to bury a snicker and failed. I'm sorry, I quickly conceded when she turned to glare at me. But you two are a match made in heaven.

More like a match made in hell, she was quick to point out, as we walked out of school and headed