My phone vibrates with Tyler’s name flashing across the screen.
‘Ty.’ I inhale, holding the smoke in my lungs, letting it burn before I exhale.
‘Alexander keeps going to an industrial site in EC.’ Tyler’s voice is monotone through the speaker.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Ah, an update on the maggot. ‘Anything else?’
‘Now that we’re back, we should see Renny. It’s been four years.’ There’s a clash of sounds in the background, as if he’s tossing his dishes into the sink. ‘I’ve heard he’s getting ready to take over the garage.’
‘Hmm,’ I grumble, flicking ash onto the concrete. ‘We can go by, but after he went off the rails, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
‘He’s doing better.’
‘And I don’t want to be the reason he snaps and has another meltdown.’ Renny took that night harder than any of us. He completely shut down.
‘Well, we need to do something.’ Tyler’s quiet for a moment before adding, ‘I got another text yesterday.’
My hands clench. ‘I got it too.’ Right before Gianna wanted a damn apology for something I can never be sorry enough for. ‘Anything else?’
Tyler gives me a rundown on the latest information. For a man who doesn’t speak much, he’s practicallyrambling tonight. I scan the town centre, sucking in another lungful of nicotine. Warm yellow light glows in the windows of MDs, the patrons silhouetted in the window. The smell of pizza wafts in the air. Next door, the cinema windows are filled with posters of new releases and the triple tier fountain continues to run, the splashing water mixing with the sound of crickets. I have so many memories in this town.
I almost smile.
Maybe, in some other lifetime or some other reality, I’d be a different man. One who could appreciate the simple beauty in Booker Bay.
Then my ears prick up, because that fucking fountain doesn’t sound like a splash anymore. It starts dripping, and the sound grates my insides.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The sound pounds through my skull, bringing unwanted memories surging forward. The more I internally panic, the more my surroundings blur.
‘Ryker?’
Tyler’s voice comes through the speaker, but I barely hear him. Nausea rolls in my body while my mind loses the battle between past and present. My pulse pounds in my ears, the high-pitched ring of tinnitus setting in.
Guilt. Regret. Grief.Which gets to consume my body first?
‘Ryker, you there?’
Stumbling back, I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling like I’m surrounded by blood and the smell of burning flesh. Needles stab the back of my throat. I open my eyes, but only see blackness. I fall to my knees, gasping for air, rage unfurling from the pit of my stomach as my body tingles.
I crawl along on my hands and knees. My arm brushes against the hot exhaust of my bike and a searing pain burns through me.
I blink, forcing the images down, letting the physical pain from the burn return me to the present moment.
Slowly, the moonlit town comes back into view and the darkness slips away, my control creeping back into place. The memories replaced by the nightmare of reality.
My cigarette and phone are on the ground in front of me, a large chunk of ash billowing a trail of smoke while Tyler’s voice comes through incoherently in the speaker.
My arm throbs with a dull ache. I look down at the damage my bike exhaust did. The new welt that’s burned into my forearm is right on top of my snake tattoo.
Well, fuck.That was my second favourite piece. I roll my shirt down, letting the fabric soak up the blood, wincing as it touches raw skin.
There’s movement in my peripheral vision. I squint, trying to make it out. A woman in a black miniskirt and a very fucking familiar jacket. Suddenly, I don’t give a fuck about my panic attack or how good the pizza is here.
