Page 7 of Broken Skulls

I stare into the darkness as the music continues to play. Sadness begins to wash over me. As hard as I try to push it away, it doesn’t budge.

If you deprive yourself of something long enough, eventually you quit missing it. I had forgotten how much I love music. Being reintroduced to it is like a punch to the gut. I can’t escape it …

The fucking music is pulling my soul from the prison I’d locked it in. “You don’t deserve to hear anything pleasant,” I whisper.

But the me I like to argue with doesn’t listen. She’s too busy tapping her foot to the beat.

My eyes fall closed, and I have no choice but to join her … to surrender.

Chapter Five

JD

She’s quiet. Finally. I was starting to worry about the way she was talking to herself. I was beginning to think she might legit be crazy.

I’ve looked at all of the files Tank’s friend Anthony sent to me. I understand fully why they’re cold toward her. It’s why I’ve kept an open mind and was one hundred percent ready to walk away from her if what they thought about her was true. That she could love, not even that,coverfor an evil man.

Personally, I think that they’re beginning to doubt what they initially thought about her. They’re pretty sure she killed the man they thought she had been protecting.

While he was in prison, I might add. Pretty ballsy if you ask me.

I like it.

Anway, you don’t kill a man you love. Do you? I honestly don’t know. Women are strange. Haven’t met one yet that I’ve figured out.

I’m putting supper in the box when I hear her hurry to the other side. She tries to push on the door to catch me, but it’s locked.

She sighs loudly.

“I … I was just wondering if you had anything new. The music that is,” she says softly.

“I do,” I tell her, flicking the lock on her side before closing the one on my own. “Did you not like what I played earlier today?”

“No. I liked it. It’s just …”

“You want more?”

“I want more,” she admits.

A smile tugs hard at the corner of my mouth. It’s the same feeling I get when I get the critters in the junkyard to warm up to me. It just takes patience, and eventually anything will eat out of your hand.

Okay, that sounded way more sinister than I intended.

I don’t want her to eat out of my hand.

Fuck.

Maybe I do.

“I’ll be back,” I grumble. I’m not sure why I’m so annoyed by my visceral reaction to the thought of her tongue teasing at my fingers …

I flip through my records, finding an old Stevie Nick’s album. It was my mom’s favorite. Lizzie kind of looks like the woman on the cover. My hand runs over it. A wild woman. Free. Only she’s not free.

Well, physically she’s free. Just not in her mind … yet.

I make my way down the stairs and put the album on, then I walk away.

As soon as I’m outside, I take a deep breath. I sit on the porch listening to the music filter up the stairs and out the door. It reminds me of my mom. She truly was a free spirit. So full of life.

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