“I’m tired.”
Raff snorts. “You’ve been tired since I met you. That’s not it.”
I don’t answer right away. The music shifts, bass vibrating through the floor. Somewhere behind us, someone whoops loud enough to rattle bottles.
Raff waits.
“Just got the itch,” I share finally. “For the open road.”
He studies my face like he’s looking for cracks. “That all?”
“That’s all,” I reply.
He doesn’t call me on it. Raff’s smart enough to know when pushing will get him nowhere. He nods once, accepting the half-truth for what it is.
“Smoke heading out again tomorrow,” he states instead. “Headed west this time. Montana, maybe further. Kinda surprised you haven’t cleared leaving with him already.”
My chest tightens before I can stop it.
“Yeah?” I say casually.
Raff watches me. “You thinking about going with him?”
I shake my head. “Someone’s gotta keep the books straight. Need to stay put or my head is never gonna settle.”
“True,” he agrees. “But you’re not exactly here right now either.”
I meet his gaze. “Drop it.”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “Just saying, brother. You’re unsettled like never before. Whatever it is, this shit ain’t about getting fresh air and new scenery.”
Raff wanders off, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a beer I don’t finish. I end up outside, leaning against the railing, cigarette burning down between my fingers. The night air is thick, grasshoppers loud, the moon hanging low like it’s eavesdropping.
This is the life I chose.
The Hellions.
Salemburg, North Carolina.
Responsibility wrapped up in loyalty and ink and blood oaths. I don’t regret it. Not really. But I keep seeing her house when I close my eyes.
Small. Modest. Quiet. A place built around staying.
I exhale smoke and laugh under my breath. “Don’t be a fool,” I mutter.
She deserves better than a man who leaves before sunrise and thinks that makes it noble. Better than someone who measures distance in exits and never in days.
Inside, the party rages on. I don’t go back in.
Instead, I sit there until the cigarette burns out and the noise dulls to background hum. My phone buzzes once in my pocket. Country Boy’s name lights the screen.
You good?
I type back, Yeah. Just tired.
A pause. Then: Get some sleep.
I don’t reply.
