Swell by Lauren Davies

my family. They’re my ohana, my Hawaiian family. They do better for me than my real family.’
    ‘Do you know your real family?’
    He shook his head fervently.
    ‘Nah. My real dad sent me a picture of himself so I know what he looks like, but I don’t know who he is.’
    ‘Does he look like you?’
    He shrugged, attempting nonchalance.
    ‘I guess, a bit yes and a bit no. I don’t care. Maybe one day he might knock on my door for my money or my fame but fuck that, I’ll slam that door right back at him.’
    I paused to let him collect his thoughts.
    ‘But you were originally from California like Jason?’
    Cain lowered his legs and spread his knees apart. He rested his elbows on them and leaned perilously close to me.
    ‘Let’s get this right, Sista. There ain’t nothing the same between Jason Cross and me. Get it?’
    ‘But you’re both champions. You’re both at the top of your game,’ I said, taking my life in my hands.
    Cain sat back, grinned and opened his arms wide. He turned his head from side to side.
    ‘Well I sure can’t see him up here with me. Jason’s finished. Sorry to burst your bubble but he ain’t a champ no more. He’s running and he ain’t coming back. It’s my time now.’ He leaned forward and tapped my notebook. ‘Write that in your little book.’
    Cain Ohana had a rawness about him that made me think he could kill a man one minute and celebrate with his nearest and dearest the next. He was calculated and somewhat fierce but stunning at the same time. His deep-set black eyes reflected the darkness bubbling beneath the surface. However, I wondered how much of the aggression was a mask he wore to hide any hint of a soft side. Of the pain his unsettled childhood had caused him. Cain was a fascinating character. He was complex and driven by a dark force. It was safe to say I had never met a man like him before.
    ‘Thanks for talking to me,’ I said when he returned from the kitchen and handed me another ice-cold beer.
    ‘Actually I really shouldn’t have another. I’m not great at drinking during the day.’
    ‘As long as you keep drinking, I’ll keep talking, Sista,’ he grinned. ‘I’m celebrating.’
    I found him hard to refuse and by four p.m. I had a wealth of quotes for the book and a rather fuzzy head. At last I felt like a writer at work.
    ‘Thanks for your help,’ I said, ‘but I should be going.’
    ‘Where to, huh? Jason ain’t there. No point sitting in that big house all alone now is there, Sista?’
    For the surfer with a reputation as a gangster, he had been incredibly accommodating and welcoming.
    ‘Come and party with us,’ he said. ‘We never had an English girl join the Tiger Sharks before.’
    I put my phone and notebook in my bag and stopped to think. Voices inside my head told me to leave. Told me I was in the wrong camp and skating on very thin ice despite the blistering temperatures. Yet other voices told me to celebrate my own achievement of scoring an exclusive interview with the new world champion, who had very likely been misconstrued by people because of his fierce rivalry with Jason. Part of me wanted to do like the L.A. glamorous people and make the most of this opportunity. It went against my natural instinct but then taking this job had been unnaturally impulsive for me and that had been the right choice. Jason had sneaked off and left me to my own devices. Deep down I wanted to embrace the dangerous vibe that hung over Cain’s posse and throw caution to the wind. After all, when would I ever be in Hawaii again celebrating a surfing world title with the new champion and his entourage? Besides, this was essential research.
    ‘OK, I’ll stay,’ I said.
    ‘Cool, but no more work. I gave you input, now it’s time you gave me some.’
    ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about but OK. Show me how a world champion celebrates,’ I grinned.
    Cain opened the door and shepherded me into the party. The lifeless bodies from earlier