Page 104 of Heat Lightning

With shaking hands, I took off my old pair and slid the new ones on. The prescription was perfect.

Even more confused than ever, I blinked away the sudden emotion that swelled in me. “Have you ever wanted someone so much it made you sick to be without them?” I whispered.

Gwen’s face softened into something sad and wistful. “No. I haven’t.”

I nodded. “Thank you for coming to get me. I’m really sorry for what I said last night. You’re my best friend, too.”

She smiled, but her eyes were still melancholy. “We’ll always come for you, Max. Regardless of whether it works out between you and Atlas, you’re family. You’re not alone.”

That little flare of light reignited deep in my chest. It’s real.

Yes, it was. I had a friend. A real friend. I cupped that tiny flame and held it close, warming my hands. No matter what happened with my job, apartment, or with Atlas, I could at least hold on to that.

I adjusted the new glasses on my face. They fit perfectly.

Just like he’d fit perfectly with me.

“Gotta pee,” I said, clearing my throat and sliding from the booth. I shut myself in the single bathroom stall and pulled out my phone, staring at The Masked Man in my conversation list. I hadn’t even had time to update his contact.

Hi… I began, but deleted it.

I’m sorry for…

I deleted that, too. It was chicken shit to apologize over text. He deserved to hear it in person.

I really miss you and want to see you…

Fuck. Too desperate. The man had a phone, too. He could text me. Why was I the one stressing over the olive branch? He’d literally tried to solicit suppressants while the sheets were still warm.

The bathroom door opened, and someone walked in, their footsteps echoing in the small space. Fuck, they’d be waiting for the stall. I hastily typed something out, thumb hovering over the send button.

I’d like to talk, if you’re free sometime?

The person waiting for my stall cleared their throat. Before I could overthink it, I tacked on, Oh, and the glasses are perfect. Thank you, and hit send.

With my heart in my throat, I pocketed the phone and flushed so it wouldn’t be weird to walk out without doing anything. I opened the stall door, expecting to awkwardly nod to a stranger while we switched places, only to come face to face with the last person on Earth I ever wanted to see.

Joey.

My stomach dropped. “What the⁠—”

“Fuck you, kid,” he said, a sneer stretched across his face. Before I could react, he punched me, hard, in the temple. I lost my balance and slipped, falling backwards. There was a loud thunk followed by an enormous pressure in the back of my head.

And then there was nothing at all.

TWENTY-NINE

ATLAS

Enzo was the brightest thing in my life most days.

I loved my nephew so fiercely the thought of anyone or anything ever hurting him made me want to burn the world down. Our outings to the aquarium, ice skating, or the zoo—always followed by ice cream, of course—were some of my happiest memories.

However.

With the way my headache pulsed, there were only so many times I could hear him practice a beginner’s arrangement of Clair de Lune before I began plotting to accidentally trip over the keyboard cord and pretend it was broken.

“Are you still listening, Uncle Atty?” he asked.