Page 100 of A Little Luck

He wasn’t supposed to die first, but if he weren’t dead, I’m pretty sure I’d kill him.

When I see his name on the headstone, I lean forward, gripping my knees as my chest heaves. Gasping air like a fish out of water, I struggle for control.

So many thoughts are in my head. He was my best friend, he was practically my brother, but those aren’t the words that come out.

“You fucking bastard.” My voice cracks. “You said you loved her. You said you couldn’t live without her. You should’ve treated her like a queen, like I would’ve treated her.”

The fury burns hotter in my chest, and I drop to my knees. His name is in my face on that fucking piece of marble, and I lift my fists and beat the ground. Right, left, right… it’s not enough.

Reaching out, I grip the headstone in both fists and yell as I try to pull it out of the earth. It doesn’t budge, so I turn and kick it. I kick it again and again until I’m bleeding. Until I finally give up and roll to my hands and knees.

Pushing off the ground, I start to pace. I’m filthy and my hands and feet are bleeding, and when I breathe, I wheeze and growl like a wild animal.

“I called you my friend.” My eyes are wet with tears. “I loved her, but I let you have her. And you fucking hurt her. You fucking piece of shit. You’re lucky I didn’t know.”

My tears are not for him. They’re for the lies. “I grieved you, and you were a monster.”

Taking another shaky breath, I straighten. “She’s mine now. He’s mine now, and if I have anything to do with it, she’ll never shed another tear.” It’s not a realistic promise, but fuck realism. Piper’s suffered enough.

“He’ll never know what a bastard you were.” That’s a promise I can keep. “I’m glad you’re dead. I only hope it hurt.”

Turning, I walk away from the grave. I’ll never come here again.

* * *

Sitting on a board,staring out at the expanse of deep blue ocean, I wait for peace to come.

The waters off the coast of Tybee Island aren’t great for surfing, but it’s hurricane season. A guy at the Waves surf shop said they’d been getting one- and two-footers these last few days.

When I was young and life hit us with death after death, the only place I could find peace was on the ocean. For a while, it was just me out there, catching that rush of adrenaline and release as I flew through the thick curls of salt water.

I slept like shit last night. The anger still held me so tight, but this morning I pulled on my swim trunks and came out here.

Beating up his grave didn’t do it, and if he were still alive, I know beating him for real would only be temporary satisfaction. The years of therapy I did as part of my deal with Aiden taught me to dig deep and name these feelings. Own them and let them go.

Otherwise, I can’t be there for her like she needs me to be.

Seeing her pretty eyes, her loving heart, and knowing what she suffered… Fuck, the darkness is so deep in my chest.

The water swells around me, and I jump to my feet. It’s not a strong wave, but it’s enough to carry me a good distance. I step off and pick up the board, walking back out and then swimming farther.

I spend the rest of the afternoon doing what I love, until the fire, the ache, the fist in my chest starts to loosen.

Walking the beach, I think about what I need to do when my phone buzzes. My muscles tense, and I think it’s her, but when I pull out my phone, it’s Aiden.

He always keeps up with me.

Aiden

Where are you?

Tybee Island. Sitting on a board.

Aiden

Rex’s hometown? What’s that about?

Had some things to say.

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