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Or maybe it’s just life. The world. Too much. Too straight. Too bright for the likes of me.
God fuck, booze sometimes puts shit into my head, drags me down like a stone hanging around my neck. I sink down, bring the bottle to my lips and drink some more. Maybe it will balance the world out. Balance out this fucking misery in my brain.
Footsteps register right before a shadow looms over me.
“Hey, get off the premises,” Jim says, Mike’s cook, scowling down at me. “You’re not allowed to sleep here, you know that.”
“Fuck you.” I give him the finger and seeing him from this perspective, down here on the ground, he looks funny. I snicker. “Fuck. You.”
“I mean it, Ross. Look...” His voice goes quieter. “I’d let you if I could but the boss won’t allow it, you know that.”
“And I said fuck you. And fuck him.”
“You’re drunk,” he says, and he sounds almost sad. “You’re wasting your money, your life on booze, just like your dad did. You could—”
“Fuck you for comparing me to him.”
“Hey, watch your mouth.”
“Well, fine, you’re right. That’s who I am, Jim. My father’s clone.” I gesture at myself and bare my teeth. “I drink and fuck and get into fights. Didn’t you know?”
“Oh come on, Ross...”
“Why don’t you run on home to your wifey and kids, Jim? Tail between your legs, no mind of your own, huh?” I stalk toward him. “Fucking coward, no life to talk about, no balls to fuck the girl you really wanna fuck, playing house all your life? Your wife fucks a neighbor but you don’t do a thing because you’re chicken shit.”
“You motherfucker.” His face has gone dark red. “You fucking motherfucker. And here I am, trying to be kind.”
I sneer. “Kind doesn’t work on me, Jimmy boy.”
“Damn you.”
He’ll fight me, I know it. I touched a nerve. Or more.
Did it on p
urpose, of course. I’ve known Jim all my life. I know what makes him tick. His fears. His regrets. So I toy with him. Push his buttons.
Until he comes at me.
I let him get the first punch in, then it’s on and we’re rolling in the dirt, trying to choke each other.
That’s all the fun you can have in a town like Destiny. Beats watching the dust settle. And takes my mind off darker things, thoughts that prey at the edges of my mind, waiting to pounce the moment I let down my guard.
Asking why I’m still here.
Why I don’t let go of the lifeline. Why I don’t let myself sink all the way down, let the dark close over me. It would be so easy, so fucking easy. So calm. Such a relief.
But even though I’m accusing others of being chicken-shit, I’m the one who’s scared fucking shitless of giving up on life. So when I finally shove Jim off me and wipe blood off my mouth and chin, when he glares at me and threatens to get the cops, I climb up to my feet, grab my goddamn bottle and limp away.
Anyway, it’s all my fault. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
But anger kicks in as I drag my sorry steps away, like it usually does. Could be the only thing keeping me back from the edge, alongside with fear. Fuck you, world, fuck you. I’m gonna fuck you up, because I am rage, I am fury, I am all the thorns you have to offer pointing back at you. You made me who I am, so now, sit back and enjoy.
Chapter Five
Luna
“Heya, Josh,” I call out to my brother as I come down the stairs, skidding to a halt just long enough to check I have my house key in my purse. “Gotta run, I’m late!”
