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She flounces off, and I watch her ass for a millisecond, then return to my beer.
“So is that how it’s gonna be?” Zane snaps.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Haven’t seen you with a chick since Tyler hit town, and that’s months and months ago. What’s the matter, your dick fall off?”
“Fuck you,” I mutter.
“You know she’s here, right?” Zane asks, and I play dumb.
“That girl? I don’t know her.”
“Megan, fucker. She came to watch you play. Skipped work for you today. She just started at this new coffee shop. Grind and Brew it’s called, I think.”
Still pretending I have no clue why he’s telling me this, I shrug. “Who cares, man?”
Zane’s dark eyes narrow to slits. “Are you fucking with me? I’ve seen you staring at her. Never seen you do that with any other chick. So why don’t you pull your head out of your ass and go talk to her?”
Yeah, not gonna happen. I shake my head and take a pull from my beer. Tastes like piss. Then again, everything tastes like that these days.
“Rafe, listen.” Zane steps closer, rubbing one shaved side of his head. “Are you okay? I mean—”
“I need a smoke,” I announce, and get up to go because that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid—this discussion. “Be right back.”
A hand like a vise wraps around my biceps. “Will you tell me what the fuck’s going on with you?” Zane growls.
“I don’t like being pressured,” I shake my arm free, “fucker.”
“If you don’t like Megan, then stop stripping her with your eyes, asshole. She’s a good girl.”
“And she has a boyfriend.” I watch his dark eyes widen. “Since summer. Tessa told me, so just back the hell off and leave me alone.”
That shocks him enough to let me go, and I hurry away from him and his questions. Maybe I’ll just get out and have a smoke on my own, clear my head. Forget that Megan can’t be mine, that I shouldn’t try to win her over, even if I thought I stood a chance.
I push through the crowd, my stomach churning.
Dammit, I didn’t mean to snap at Zane. He means well. But I can’t tell him what’s on my mind. He’ll think that I’ve lost it for good.
And he might be right. The murderer of my family, walking around the same city where he did the deed? What are the odds of me recognizing the son of a bitch from a hazy
memory of a tattoo I thought I saw?
The police didn’t believe me back then. They told me I was in shock and my memories couldn’t be trusted. It’s true, they were all jumbled images, sounds, smells. But he returns in my dreams, and I keep seeing the symbol.
A handprint. That’s what was inked on the man’s arm. The man I saw last summer walking in the street as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Invading my nightmares once more, supplying them with fresh scenarios of horror. In my dreams he opens my door, enters my apartment and starts carving my flesh off my bones, piece by piece—and my dead family is watching.
Yeah, I see ghosts at night. They haunt my sleep. They make me want to bang my head against the wall. Make me throw the furniture around, crash my fists into the counters. Anything to make it stop.
I see Tessa gesturing to me from the bar, wanting to know where I’m going, and I change direction. She’s as likely to start asking questions as anybody else.
Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have stayed longer tonight.
Passing underneath the gaudy angels and strings of Christmas lights, I look for the emergency exit, but can’t see it. So I lean on the wall and thump my head back, close my eyes and grit my teeth.
Don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. Can’t relax, can’t pretend everything’s gonna be okay. I’m too tired. Zapped all out, but truth is, I don’t know how going home will help. To sleep? Fucking hilarious. Can’t get in more than a couple of hours every night, and when I do, I wake up worse than before. The mere thought of going to bed is exhausting.
Deep inside I know if I don’t do something about the insomnia, I’ll be a danger to myself and everyone around me. I have a prescription for sleeping pills that should still be valid. Only problem is I shook off that addiction, but didn’t kill it. You don’t fucking kill addictions. You shelve them and try to forget about them.
