I welcomed the reprieve.
The shock of dizziness that pounded through my brain as the alcohol finally hit my bloodstream.
The world going slightly off kilter, sight blurring at the edges. The way my limbs felt a little lighter, for a moment not weighed down with the burden.
By what was at stake.
I pushed to my feet and dug into my wallet, pulling out a hundred and tucking it under the empty before I began to stalk through the crowd. Pushing through the throbbing bodies, I felt a disturbance. With each footstep it only grew.
Walls enclosing.
Energy rushing.
Climbing and amplifying.
Becoming something massive.
Something fierce.
Too close.
Just out of reach.
This was it. I was finally going to lose my grip on the reality that I’d barely been clinging to.
I shouldered through the throng, ignoring the few glances I got.
I inhaled, lungs filling full of the need and lust that was palpable in the dense air. I should give into it. Take of it. Feed on it.
Let it fill me.
Take away the edge.
A distraction from the pain.
But I found I couldn’t stay. Irritation pushed up from that dark place that howled from the deepest part of me. I broke through the mass, pushing through the door and out into the deep, deep night.
Music seeped through the walls and chased me out into the sticky, damp heat.
I started down the sidewalk in the direction of Lyrik’s pad, place less than a mile away. At this hour, the streets were next to vacant. A few revelers stumbled out of the dives and pubs that lined the river walk, voices elevated and slurred, exorbitantly loud.
I edged by them, refusing to pay them attention.
When I made it to the end of the block, I took a right around a building. I shoved my hands in my pockets and dropped my head as I increased my pace.
I did my best to ignore the footsteps that I could hear getting louder and louder from behind.
Coming closer.
The irritation I’d been running from all night only grew.
Heightened in the stagnant humidity.
My skin hot, that fiery pit in my stomach lapping with flames.
Trees overhung the street, spindly branches stretching wide, a canopy that hid the stars in the endless sky. Tonight, the moon was missing, the night grim and oppressive.
Advancing in from all sides. Threatening to devour.
The sounds of the river walk faded as I moved deeper into the slumbering neighborhood. The only light was the few streetlamps that flickered and spilled their muted glow out onto the narrow sidewalk.
I took a right at the next street, shoulders hitched up high when the roll of footsteps behind me only increased.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A war-beat that inched closer.
My heart rate sped. Battering at my ribs and flooding my veins.
Every sensation I possessed intensified as adrenaline lifted and rose.
Awareness tugged my chest into a knot.
The footsteps behind me got a beat closer just as a figure stepped out in front of me about twenty feet ahead.
I glanced behind me to see as some burly-ass dude encroached.
Motherfucker.
I was being hunted.
I swung back around to the guy who was waiting for me ahead. Two of them like wolves circling their kill.
Too bad they didn’t realize their prey was rabid.
Foaming at the mouth and vengeance-minded.
Didn’t contemplate or stall.
I flew for the prick, feet pounding the sidewalk through the vacant night.
Surprise knocked him back one step, and my fist connecting with his jaw knocked him the rest of the way to the ground.
Piece of shit howled as he skidded on the pavement. “Just wanna talk.”
Right. Considering in the same second, the prick behind was on me, slamming me in the side. An elbow rammed me right at the top of my spine.
Fuckface had the full intent to bring me to my knees.
Pain splintered across my ribs. The only thing it did was fuel the fury. Chest shivering with greed. Mouth watering with the hunger for retribution.
I whirled around, left arm swinging, clipping him on the side of his head.
He swung at the same second.
His meaty fist caught me at the edge of my mouth.
Rage tore through me like a fever. A match that consumed an entire building.
I threw two punches. He ducked and missed the first, but the second connected with his jaw.
He went down onto his knees, and my right fist connected with his opposite cheek.
His head rocked from side-to-side, and the next punch I threw landed on his nose.
I relished in the feel of the bone crushing, the blood that splattered onto the street. His hands went to his face in a vapid bid to protect himself.
I didn’t hesitate. I delivered three more blows.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Like a drumbeat.
A horrible, disgusting song that I was going to sing forever.
Apparently, they thirsted for the pain because the first guy I’d knocked on his ass climbed back onto his feet, stumbling my way like the moron actually thought he had a chance.
They wanted to take me down? They were going to have to do a whole ton better than showing up with fists.
I spun, throwing a kick before he even got within a foot of me. The sole of my boot hit him square in the chest. It blew him back, asshole stumbling before he lost his footing and fumbled back onto the ground.
Two pussies laying there in the middle of the road panting for a breath.
Unsuspecting.
I swiped at the single droplet of blood that ran down from the side of my mouth, glaring in disgust at the red from under the hazy, murky light.
I shook out my hands, knuckles busted and torn, probably more beat than the two bastards who were sitting there waiting for what was going to happen next.
Feeling the vibe.
The chaos that raged and hissed and seeped from my pores.
No fear.
Just the welcoming of pain.
“I’m guessing since you didn’t come here with guns you came to deliver a message.” I spat the words at the pricks who sat there fucking shaking.
No doubt, they were brand new pledges into this seedy, sleazy world.
Uneasily, they glanced between each other.
“That’s what I thought,” I grated. “How about you deliver a message for me?”
Nine
Leif
Sixteen Years Old
I let loose a low whistle.
“Whoa, she is pretty, isn’t she?” I asked through the awe as I let my hand flutter an inch over the gleaming bike. Brand new. Shining metal and perfect leather.
I was itching to caress it but I knew better than to actually touch.
The garage was dim, the only light getting in from the small windows that ran along the top.
“Happy birthday, Leif.”
Confusion moved through me, and I spun to look over my shoulder at my step-father who stood ten feet away. Did my best to process what was happening when he tossed something into the air, metal glinting in the bare rays of sunlight that filtered down through the dusty glass.
I caught it.
A keyring.
For a beat, I just stared at the single key on the keychain that was the same design I’d seen before. A P with two slashing lines cutting through the middle of it. It was something my stepfather wore on his vest and had in the autobody shop that he owned.