Warning laces his tone. Aggression. I sense that strength in him again, more than I did when his chest was pressed to mine, and if he’s who I think he is, he can probably kill me with a flick of his wrist. “What’s your name?”
“Tell me yours,” he counters.
For a weighted second, nothing happens. We don’t speak. We don’t move, and that current between us? It should fade—it should’ve fizzled out the moment my brain rebooted. But it doesn’t and I can’t draw a breath. I can’t find the words to tell him who I am and the loaded silence becomes something awful.
I close my eyes, restraint shaking my bones as the man draws near again.
“Hey.” He sets a careful hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know what’s spooked you, but my name’s Mal, if that helps.”
It doesn’t.
I laugh again and force myself to face him. “I know.”
“Aye, you do?” Wariness creeps back into that sage green stare. “How’s that?”
“Because I live with your brother.”
Shock replaces suspicion, and it’s his turn,Mal’s, to reel back and force a chasm of space between us. He exhales sharply, bringing both hands to his head, messing his already dishevelled hair. His expression wars between amusement and regret, and something else I don’t want to dwell on.
He tips his gaze to the sky and I take my moment.
I’mgone.
And I don’t look back, even when I reach my car. I just drive, the respite he’s given me shattered by an incoming storm far more dangerous than wind and rain.
Time moves too fast again.
I blink and I’m somewhere else. But it’s not the rowdy pub where I live—whereMallives too. It’s not the cramped livingroom that’s already too small for three grown men, or the kitchen I’ve made my own personal battleground.
It’s a grey car park. A pink and beige building that’s almost cheerful if you look at it with eyes that aren’t mine. It’s heavy gates and clanging locks. A scratched table, the smell of bleach, and the face of someone I’ll hate until the day I die.
“Sky.” She reaches for me. “My baby boy.”
I lean as far back as I can without falling off my fucking chair, my mouth thick with words she doesn’t deserve, but I say them anyway. “Hi Mum.”
3MAL
Porth Luck
It takes me three days to trek the final twelve miles back to my adopted home town and I resent every yard of it.
I arrive on foot, at night—not that the late hour makes this crazy town much quieter—the phone I bought at an airport in Germany a live wire in my pocket. Jack’s stopped sending messages, but Sol’s harder to shake off.
Sol:When are you getting here?
Sol:You need picking up?
Sol:If you’re not coming, just tell him
Him.
Jack.
My brother.
Last time we were in the same room, he screamed in my face for me to leave him alone. I never meant to take him so seriously, but life ran away from me. At this point, it’s barely a speck on the horizon. It’s been years since I’ve seen my brother, and even longer since I’ve set foot in this place.
Porth Luck - A Coastal Gem!