Chapter Seventeen:
Inga and Nick arrived back at the house after splitting a platter of Apalachicola oysters with garlic bread. Nick had ordered a second bottle of wine. He also ordered a veal parmesan sandwich to take home. Cloey heard the cars arrive and the sound of Nick’s laughter in the driveway. It was a high-pitched, giddy girlie-laugh and a sure sign he’d been drinking. God, Cloey hated the sound of that laugh.
Nick came to her bedside holding a styrofoam container. “Hey Sport. You thirsty?” He held the glass of water so she could reach the straw with her lips. She snapped it up, sucked, and gulping hard, she drained the glass. Nick frowned, studying the empty glass in his hand. “You want more?”
Cloey, feeling neglected and belligerent, blinked angrily. Once for yes.
She draine
