Chapter 22 Daddy Shamus

Before Shamus left, he gave Miguel a tender kiss on the cheek. As soon as he walked away, his mind immediately fixated on Bently and the special gift he had given Miguel. From the look on Miguel's face, he was not pleased with the gift and had no intention of riding it today. It was unclear whether he would return it. Sugar Daddy Bently was trying to buy Miguel's love and affection, just like Timmy's new one had. He'd lost Timmy to his new sugar daddy. Could he compete with this sugar daddy? He didn't think money meant as much to Miguel as it had to Timmy, but he could be wrong. He drove to Seaside Sips and through the window he saw Finn and Jimmy working side by side behind the bar.

The moment Shamus entered, his nostrils were met by a combination of beer, whiskey, and the lingering stench of cigarette smoke. When the bar was empty, the doors were locked, and Shamus wasn't around, Jimmy found solace in the stillness as he enjoyed a forbidden smoke. Shamus had mentioned it a few times, and he always promised he would go outside to smoke, but Shamus hadn't been born yesterday.

"Thanks, you guys, for decorating. Miguel had a great night."

"So, how is it going?" Finn asked.

"I found what I'm looking for. One problem we might have is his ex-boyfriend Bently showed up from California and bought him a motorcycle for his birthday."

"That's a big problem. Is he going to keep it?" Finn asked.

"I don't know. The motorcycle is already in his name and the insurance is prepaid. So, he's not sure what to do. I told him to keep it."

"If he does, then his ex will want something in return," Finn said.

"I say he should give it back," Jimmy said. "Nothing good can come of it."

"It's up to him. We have a full day planned for his birthday today. I have to finish up the books, then we're leaving. So, you're good?"

"Yes, don't worry. The new guy is coming in at eight. We have it all covered, cuz," Finn said.

"Thanks! You are truly wonderful."

Shamus went to the back room and worked on the books, including payroll. He'd had more time with Miguel, but had left him, sick or not, without a word. How do you do that to someone you love?

The jarring sound of his phone interrupted his thoughts. It was Miguel.

"What's going on?" Shamus asked.

"You won't believe what's happening here." Miguel's voice trembled as he spoke faster than he usually did.

"Tell me, love." As he listened closely, Shamus could make out the chatter of people in the background. Miguel wasn't alone. Who was visiting him? It was his twenty-first birthday, so maybe it was relatives or friends surprising him.

"My family showed up for my birthday." Miguel's voice displayed some unhappiness.

"Don't worry about anything. We can reschedule our day when they leave." Shamus didn't like the sound of Miguel's voice.

"That's not the problem."

"What's wrong? Do you want me to come over now?"

"Bently picked up my mother, Maria, and our cousin Sara."

"Is Bently staying there?" Shamus clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white, as he fought back his frustration and anger. What would Bently come up with next to take Miguel away from him? His grip tightened on the phone, a knot of anxiety twisting in his chest.

"For now, but he'll leave when he takes my mother home tonight. Maria and Sara are staying until Sunday. They're out on the boardwalk now."

"Do you want me to come over now?" Shamus asked again, his voice filled with concern.

"Please! I don't want to be here alone with Bently and my mother," Miguel pleaded.

"I'll be right there." Shamus rushed out of the back room and said, "Things are bad for Miguel. Bently and Miguel's mother are in his hotel room. He asked me to come over there now."

"You sure you wanna do that?" Finn asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Just make sure you're back in one piece," Jimmy said, his tone betraying his worry.

"I've met Bently before. Miguel doesn't want Bently pressuring him to go back with him. It doesn't sound like his mother is supporting Miguel's decision, but I don't know about that."

"Make him return the motorcycle," Jimmy said.

"It's not my decision. He has to decide that." When Shamus's phone buzzed, he quickly reached into his pocket to check the incoming message and glanced at the caller ID—an unknown number. With a growing sense of unease, he read the message.

Unknown Number: Bently has been bribing Miguel's family to persuade him to go back. Save Miguel from Bently. He will just use him. Miguel gave me your number.

Shamus wasn't expecting information about Miguel's family.

Bently? Bribery? Who is this unknown person sending me a message? Bently was also trying to bribe Miguel with the motorcycle and wedding rings. Marriage to that old man? Miguel is only twenty-one. He's too young for that guy.

The pieces clicked into place—the expensive motorcycle Miguel had suddenly received, the extravagant rings he'd left in his hotel that Miguel had returned during their brief meeting. A bitter anger snaked through Shamus, coiling tight in his gut. This wasn't about Miguel's family; this was about Bently trying to buy Miguel back. Shamus would not let that happen, though he feared he might fail if others in the family pressured Miguel in that direction.

Without a second thought, Shamus burst out of the bar, the door slamming shut behind him. The wind mercilessly lashed at his face, a match to the brewing storm of emotions inside him. He didn't bother to drive. He dashed from the bar to the hotel in a matter of five minutes.

Miguel's hotel room number flashed in his mind, etched there from their last visit. Instead of spending a tense few minutes in the elevator, he took the stairs. He knocked on the door and waited. The hotel room door swung open to reveal Miguel, his face pale and drawn. But it was the sight of Bently, his arm draped possessively around a woman who must be Miguel's mother, that set his reason teetering on the edge. Miguel's mother, with her long dark hair elegantly pinned up in a bun, was a beauty. She wore comfortable hot pink, calf-length slacks that hugged her legs with a soft, matching cotton shirt and earrings. Miguel had her hazel eyes.

Before Shamus could get a word out, a booming voice filled the room. "Shamus! What are you doing here?" Bently stood tall, his summer three-piece suit perfectly tailored to his frame, emitting an air of smug charm and the unmistakable scent of expensive cologne. Why was he all dressed up? Had he planned to take Miguel out for his birthday? No wonder Miguel had called. He didn't have a fighting chance with his mother and Bently teaming up together for Miguel to marry Bently.

"Miguel called me," Shamus gritted out, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "He needed help."

"Miguel doesn't need your help," his mother snapped with a heavy Spanish accent. "This is a family matter." Her large, dangling earrings danced when she spoke.

The air hung heavy with the sweetness of cheap air freshener mingling with Bently's expensive cologne. It was Miguel's birthday, a day Miguel was supposed to be celebrating with happiness, not entangled in this mess.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Reyes, anything involving Miguel is my business," Shamus stated. Then his gaze fixed on Bently. "Stop trying to buy Miguel back. He's not for sale."

Bently's face contorted in a sneer. "That's ridiculous. I know my Miguel isn't for sale. But he and his family deserve the best, and I can give it to them. Can you? I think not. You just work in a bar on the boardwalk," he spat.

"Who are you anyway?" his mother asked Shamus.

"My name is Shamus O'Malley, and I'm happily dating Miguel. I own a bar on this boardwalk, but during the year I teach art history at Princeton University."

"A bar? Miguel doesn't need to be around alcohol at all," she scoffed.

She was not impressed he owned a bar in Seaside Heights, and she discounted the fact he taught at Princeton. Her mind was already made up. She was "Team Bently." Maybe it all had to do with money.

The room seemed to shrink with three extra people in it. Emotions hung in the air, unspoken yet unmistakable. Miguel, caught in the middle, looked lost, his eyes tearing up. Shamus's heart ached for him, a fierce protectiveness rising within him. He wouldn't let Bently or his mother manipulate him. He was determined to shelter Miguel from this man and anyone else, including his mother.

"Miguel," Shamus said, his voice low and intense. "Tell them what you want."

Miguel opened his mouth to speak, but his mother cut him off. "Don't listen to that thug, Miguel! He's just jealous of what Bently can provide for you!"

His mother had planted a seed of doubt, putting a momentary dent in Miguel's confidence. Miguel hesitated, his gaze darting between Shamus and his mother.

"Miguel, please," Shamus pleaded, taking a step closer. "Don't let them control you. You're an adult and make your own decisions." He knew Miguel was torn between his mother's wishes and his own. How could he compete with her? Why didn't she support what Miguel wanted? What had Bently promised her?

"I'm sorry." Miguel faced his mother. "Marrying Bently is the last thing I want," he declared. "I want to be with Shamus. Our relationship isn't about money, but about love and trust. I've made my decision. If you can't accept it, then you're rejecting me as your son."

"How dare you speak to me like that!" his mother shouted in Spanish. "You will not see that bar bum."

"He's not a bar bum. I take it you are rejecting my choice, so with that, I'll leave before any more hateful words are exchanged."

"You dare go against your mother, who raised you alone?" she said in Spanish again as she pointed to Shamus.

"Don't worry, Mama Reyes, this isn't over. I don't want the motorcycle back. I won't accept it."

"It's over, Bently," Miguel said, then turned to Shamus. "Let's leave now."

"Don't you dare take my son with you," Mrs. Reyes shouted and stood between them. "Stay here and talk it out with Bently."

Shamus wrapped his arm around Miguel and ushered him away from his mother, out of the room and down the stairs to the lobby.

"Are you okay?" Shamus asked.

"I don't know what happened in there, but I need to get away. Thanks for coming and supporting me."

"We'll go somewhere quiet where we can talk and relax."

"All my things are in the room."

"Don't worry."

"What about my sister and my cousin Sara?"

"Let's go to my apartment and you can send them a text."