Page 94 of Beat of Love
To disappear into the building.
To let his life burn down in the sweet, warm slide of nothingness.
Sharp shards of pain pierced his fogged mind, and he pulled away his hand, not surprised to see a clump of hair dangling from his fingers. “Fuck,” he muttered. He shook the hair off, watched it drift down to the ground.
His breath came hard, chest rising like he’d just finished a race.
He’s a hero. Twice the man you’ll ever be.
He stared at the compound. Then at the bike. Then back again.
He swallowed. Hard.
He’s a hero.
A hero.
His hands shook.
He could go in. He wanted to. Fuck, how he wanted to.
Wanting wasn’t the same as needing.
He’s a hero. Twice the man you’ll ever be.
Yet he stood immobile, his entire body vibrating, heart thumping against his ribs, breath soughing through his lungs.
The wind picked up, tugging at his jacket, rattling something loose in the chain-link fence.
Drug addict.
He stood there in that liminal space until his pulse slowed enough for him to breathe without shaking.
Hero.
He patted his chest, felt the pendant burn into his skin where it rested beside the angel wing.
Then he reached down, flipped the kickstand back up, and swung his leg over the seat. The engine coughed once. Then roared to life.
He didn’t look back as he rode away.
26
Filthy prison ink
He jerked awake, and for a moment, he couldn’t tell if the pounding he heard was real, or maybe the figment of a forgotten dream. Then it came again —pounding on his bedroom door.
And he heard his father’s deep rumble, his mother’s anxious cries. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the cold floor, every nerve in his body suddenly on high alert as he raced across the floor. He flung the door open. “What’s wrong?”
Aidan faced him, Ma — still dressed in her nightclothes — grabbing his arm, crying out, “This isn’t necessary.”
Rafferty gripped the door jamb when he noticed the little plastic jar in his brother’s hand. “Now?” he bit out, his eyes slashing up to meet his brother’s thunderous stare.
“You were at a known drug hangout last night, so yes,now.”
“Spying on me, brother?”
“Is it true, Rafferty? Were you there?” his father asked, rolling closer from the opposite direction.
