Page 43 of Fast

“Lev,” Scott calls out. “Come join us. I know your parents won’t mind. You’ve always been like another son to me. You’re part of the family.”

I stand close to my mom, with Chance on the other side of me.

“Everyone say Mayor,” the photographer encourages us.

We do as we’re told, looking at the camera. The entire time, I have to fight the urge to turn to look at Ares. I know he’s lookingat me. I feel his eyes on me as if they were physically touching me.

“Perfect. Everyone stay exactly where you are and keep smiling.” The photographer says, snapping several photos. “You’re very photogenic. A very good-looking family.”

ARES

Zara, Chance, and Lev are getting up from the breakfast table when I make my way down to the dining room.

I’ve had a shitty night's sleep. Seeing Zara again was shocking, and it brought to the surface all kinds of unwanted memories.

It’s not like I don’t think about that weekend of two years ago. My therapist says I should focus on the present, rather than living in the past. But how do you do that when you’ve lost a part of yourself and the person responsible for it has gotten away with literal murder?

The grief and the emptiness my twin brother left in my heart aren’t the only things that keep me up at night. It’s the fact that Bridgeport police closed the case without ever finding the person who was riding the bike that killed Atlas.

All they could tell us was that the bike in question was stolen from Fox’s team garage. Calvin Fox was briefly detained while the initial stages of the investigation were underway, but he was ultimately released. He obviously wasn’t riding the bike in question. The only wrongdoing they could really find was that he kept running after the race had been suspended. That makes him a douche bag, but not a murderer.

There’s one person who could have shed some light on what happened that day but, again, Bridgeport police couldn’t find him. I’ve been trying to find JJ Smith too, but the guy is a ghost.

No one had ever seen the racer who appeared at the qualifying race the day before, earning a pole position. He enrolled online. The destroyed bike he left behind, after being forced off the track by the other mysterious rider, was registered to someone in Bridgeport. The last owner had taken the bike to a junkyard to be scrapped and no other paperwork existed after.

This is why I joined the sheriff's department, despite Dad being against it. No one is even trying to get justice for Atlas. I’m the only person he has left who’s still trying to find the guy who hit him. Or at least JJ Smith, who hopefully knows why he was being targeted.

I have no idea where to even start with my investigation, but graduating from the police academy was the first step. Now I can look into the police database and I have a better shot at finding who killed Atlas.

I don’t give a shit if I have to do it on my own time. I have nothing but time. While the person responsible for Atlas’s death is at large, I’m not going to be able to find peace.

Speaking of peace, seeing Zara again didn’t help one bit. I’ve thought about her often in the two years since that horrible weekend. I almost kissed her the night before the race. And that day on the track, I was distracted. I was thinking about her, rather than concentrating on the race.

“Morning Ares,” Chance slaps me on the back. “We’re going out for a swim and spending the day on the beach. You should join us.”

I force myself not to glare at him. We’ve grown distant since that day. I can’t find peace, while he seems to have moved on. He has his hockey and Lev. He’s always been closer to Lev than to me and Atlas. I know it’s unfair, but I resent him for that. I resent him because his loss isn’t as huge as mine.

I resent him for being closer to Dad, because they have hockey in common. All I had was Atlas and racing and now I don't have either.

“You’re going already?” I do my best not to scowl at him, but fail miserably. “I thought we were having family brunch. That’s why I stayed here last night, rather than going back to my apartment. I’ve had five back to back twelve-hour shifts, and I didn’t want to have to get up too early to be here on time. Am I too late?”

Chance explains. “No, you aren’t. Dad was asked to speak at a car dealership opening. It was a last-minute thing. The deputy mayor was supposed to do it, but his kitchen got flooded. A burst water main apparently, his whole street is affected. So Dad is stepping in to make sure his engagements are fulfilled, and Kelly is organizing a food drive for all the neighborhood that is now without water.”

My scowl deepens. “Right. I’m glad Dad told you, but he could have let me know, too.”

As usual, Chance takes Dad’s side. “He did. He sent us all a text. You should have gotten it too. It’s in the family message thread.”

“I got nothing—” I start to complain. “Fuck. My phone was on do not disturb. I always do it after these twelve-hour shifts. If I don’t, I get woken up by all sorts of stupid notifications.”

I can’t help but notice that Zara has been added to the family text thread. I force myself not to look at her, or I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my temper in check.

It’s unfair, I know that much. What happened to Atlas isn’t her fault. But if I hadn’t been so distracted by her presence that day, maybe I could have done something. Maybe I would have reacted faster and put myself between Atlas and that bike; or I could have at least chased the person who was riding it.

“So?” Chance asks. “What do you say? I know you have today and tomorrow off. Why don’t you come to the beach with us?”

“I don’t know, man,” I rub my neck, looking for an excuse to decline his invitation. “I have so much shit to do. And next weekend it’s the wedding, and nothing will get done.”

I see the disappointment on my little brother’s face. I hate myself for pulling away, like I always do. But I can’t help it. I don’t know how to be with them without Atlas. He was the social one, the friendly one, the funny one. He would lead and I would follow him, no questions asked. Without him, everything is too hard. Even being with my family feels wrong and unnatural. As if I was taking the place that should have rightfully been his.

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