Chapter 9

The following Monday, Ginger fixed breakfast while Alex packed up his belongings. "I can drop you off at the art studio on my way home," Alex offered.

"You don't need to do that," Ginger said as he cooked. "I can take the bus," he said. Alex reached up, opened a cabinet, and pulled out the dishes.

"Buses run at certain times," Alex said as he set the table. "You could be stuck with no way home if a job runs longer than planned," Alex pointed out.

"You're right," Ginger said, sighing in defeat.

"You've got to learn to trust more," Alex said.

"Trusting people got me nowhere, so bear with me for being cautious," Ginger said.

Alex chuckled lightly as they sat down at the table to eat. "In this world, trust is earned," the blonde said. "You seem to trust the owner of the art studio," he said.

"Because she hasn't done anything to make me uncomfortable or upset," Ginger said.

"So, what are you doing today?" Alex asked while they ate.

"I'm checking to see if I have any job offers," Ginger said. "I'm hoping to have two or three this week," he said.

"You're very talented," Alex said. "Your schedule is probably full," he said.

After breakfast, they cleaned up the kitchen and headed out. Ginger sat in the passenger seat with his art supplies lying on his lap. Even with the temporary mark, Alex felt Ginger's anxiety.

"Relax; I bet there are several people wanting you to draw for them," Alex assured. When they pulled up, Ginger noticed Alessa outside, sitting on a wooden bench. There was a look of unhappiness on her face. Alex parked and turned off the engine.

"Wait here," Ginger said as he got out of the car. Ginger walked over to the woman, who had tears in her eyes. "Mrs. Milano, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting down beside her.

A folded piece of paper lay in her hands. I have bad news," she said.

"What is it?" the redhead asked, scared of what he might hear.

"I'm being deported," Alessa said.

"Why?" Ginger asked, his hazel eyes widening in shock. Tears ran down her pale cheeks. Ginger took the paper from her shaky hands and unfolded it. Ginger's world came crashing down once more. Alex stepped up to them with a worried look on his face. Ginger glanced up with tears in his hazel eyes.

"He's won; he got what he wanted," Ginger said. The notice fell from his hand and floated down to the concrete.

On the ground, Ginger's art supplies lay sprawled in all directions. In the middle of the mess was the notice. As if a bomb had exploded in his brain, Ginger rose from the bench and walked away, ignoring the clutter. The thought, "My life is over," echoed in his head. He didn't even acknowledge Alex's car and walked right past it.

"I've got to go after him," Alex said, taking everything that Ginger had left from the ground. "I'm sorry," he said as he headed to his car.

"I am sorry also," Alessa whispered as she watched Alex drive away.

Alex kept watch on Ginger's movements as he drove down the street. He gulped when Ginger stepped off a curb and a black Toyota screeched to a halt. Ginger continued walking, ignoring the honks and curses.

"I've got to get to him before he ends up getting himself killed," Alex muttered. Alex continued driving, keeping Ginger in his view. The route he was driving finally dawned on him.

"The beach," he thought to himself. "Oh sh*t, not again," he swore under his breath. Alex looked for a way to get ahead of Ginger so he'd be at the beach before him.

"Siri, call my dad," Alex said when he calmed his breathing.

***ring ring ring***

"Hello," Neil said.

"Dad, it's me," Alex said.

"Are you on the way home?" Neil asked.

"I was until something came up," Alex said. "Dad, I need your help," he said in the calmest tone possible.

"Are you hurt?" Neil asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, but Ginger isn't," Alex said. "His ex did it again, but this time, it pushed him over the edge," he explained.

"Where are you?" Neil asked.

"The beach," Alex said.

***click***

Alex parked the car and turned off the engine when he reached the boardwalk. He glanced around for any sign of Ginger. A few moments passed, then an outline of a person appeared in the rearview mirror. As the person came closer, the image became more clear. To Alex's relief, it was Ginger. The redhead looked sickly, which worried Alex a lot. His hazel eyes held no emotion. It was like his life was drained from him. Alex noticed small cuts on his arms when Ginger passed the car.

Alex quietly got out of the car and followed Ginger. The redhead stumbled and fell several times, but got back up. Small pebbles and white sand covered his cuts. Just as Ginger stepped into the water, Alex yelled, "Ginger, no!" rushing up to him. Alex grabbed Ginger's waist and pulled him back onto the sandy beach. The redhead gasped softly and collapsed in Alex's embrace. Alex fell to his knees, sobbing as he cradled him. Paramedics showed up at the scene, followed by both Alex's and Ginger's parents.

"Excuse me, sir, but you need to move away so we can tend to him," a brunette male paramedic said.

Alex reluctantly scooted back and laid Ginger down so he could be examined. He stood up and backed away.

"He'll be fine," Neil said, trying to reassure him.

"You didn't see how ghostly he looked after he saw the notice," Alex said.

"Do you have it with you?" Neil asked.

"It's in the car," Alex said. "I need to check up on some phone calls also sent to Ginger," he said.

"Are they harassment calls?" Neil asked.

"I suspect it to be that way," Alex said. "I can't prove it, but I think it's his ex," he said. One of the paramedics walked up to them.

"We're transporting him to the hospital; you can follow us there," he said. Everyone headed to their vehicles and filed in line behind the ambulance.

"You'll pay for this, I swear," Alex grumbled as he drove.

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