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PROLOGUE
KRISTOFF
It was the last week before spring break and I was determined not to kick Scott Chapel’s ass. He was parked across my friend Viking’s body shop, about fifty yards away, spewing profanities at me. Going out there and smashing Scott’s head into a wall would cause a fight for sure. That could mean broken bones, a messed up hand. I needed my hand. One day my hands would be those of a surgeon.
Scott turned down the volume of his car radio, so I could hear his insults better. I’d heard them all before. None of them bothered me anymore; my skin was tougher than a rhino’s.
I could easily take him, but he wasn’t alone today. He’d brought three more of his spoiled friends who wouldn’t want to be caught dead in my neighborhood, unless it was for a good cause. The cause being to fuel Scott’s hatred for me.
Hate, such a base emotion.
Once more I calculated the risk of beating him and his friends into a pulp. I weighed the satisfaction of kicking his ass versus the injuries I might receive. Every calculation ended up with either broken bones or me landing in juvie because his dad was a lawyer with friends in high places. The odds of winning the fight were not in my favor.
Always remember the odds.
“Hey! I’m talking to you, egghead.”
A growl erupted next to me. Viking emerged from underneath the hood of the car he was working on.
He scowled at me. “You gonna end that or what?”
“Or what.” I took another energy drink from the cooler and popped open the lid. Scott and his crew were nothing more than flies. Pesky little bugs who I would leave behind once I got into med school.
“What’s their beef with you, anyway?”
Aside from stupidity and jealousy? “Rose Lewinsky.”
Viking’s jaw slackened. “A girl? They’ve been pestering you all damn week over some pussy?” He wiped a spot of oil from his face with a rag, making a mess of his beard.
“Stay the fuck away from Rose!” Scott yelled from his SUV. He revved up his engine but didn’t dare to get out of the vehicle.
Viking took another wrench from his workbench and pointedly crossed his imposing arms in front of his chest. Then he glared at Scott, who wisely continued to stay in his car.
I laughed when one of his friends closed his car window. Yeah, Viking had that effect on people. The guy was of Herculean proportion and his scowl screamedDon’t mess with me.
“She your girlfriend, or what?” Viking asked me.
“Lab partner.” I’d discovered that the less attention I gave girls, the more interested they got. Scott, with all his fancy clothes and cars, couldn’t understand why Rose would choose me. I knew why. I was a challenge to her. She wanted to conquer the “bad boy” from the wrong side of the tracks. Sometimes my life was a cliché.
A coke bottle crashed against the wall near my head and rolled along the floor. Brown liquid spilled out and the bottle left a wet trail in its wake.
Viking’s eyes flashed a blue thunder. I knew he was close to ripping out someone’s spine. He was working on his self-control issues, which was an ongoing process. I couldn’t have my only friend end up behind bars. The other day he’d almost bashed in his stepfather’s head. Unlike me, the big guy was all heart and rage. I didn’t feel much at all most days. It was a simple choice. You let people get to you, you’d get hurt, so I refused to feel any emotion at all.
Scott raised his voice. “Son of a whore!”
I sighed as I took another gulp of my drink.
“You gonna let him talk to you like that?” Viking growled.
I shrugged. “My motherisan escort.”
She was also the most loving person I knew. A woman who made me breakfast every morning, except on Sundays. Because despite of her profession the church would spit her out for, she still held on to her rosary and never missed a religious Russian holiday. I decided long ago that I wouldn’t let any crude insults about my mother get to me. Getting angry when people called her names for a profession she chose in order to feed her kid, felt like a slap in my mother’s face somehow.
Viking grabbed a drink and held it up as a toast. “At least she’s not a junkie who lives with her dealer.”
Yeah, there was that. Despite everything, my mother made sure I never had to deal with a boyfriend or “uncle.” In fact, I couldn’t remember ever seeing a man in the house. The only person who ever visited us had been Inessa, my mom’s friend and colleague. Until one day she just ran off with a Russian mobster. The probability of that ending well was null. One day, I was going to get both of them out of the life.
“See you around.” It was time for me to head home.
