waiting for its chance to pick out his eyes and feed on his flesh. Sometimes he just wanted to lie down flat on his back and let that old vulture have its way.
And so it began. The sucking sound of Sean going down the drain.
He had to get the fuck out of here. Slinking away without coffee and pleasantries was rude, but better to leave before the charming sex machine of last night mutated before their eyes into a grunting zombie.
A cautious sniff at his pits practically knocked him out. A shower was too risky, though. So was coffee, he concluded with regret, gazing at the gleaming coffee technology on display in the kitchen. The bean grinder would wake up the cuties, and there he’d be, up shit creek. Forced to smile, chat, flirt, give them his phone number. God save him.
He stumbled out into a bland residential neighborhood. No money, no wallet. He never went out on the eve of August eighteenth with credit cards, or anything with his address printed on it. Just cash and condoms. Flashing lights, blasting music, sex, dancing, liquor, anything that blotted out higher cognitive function.
Fighting worked fine, too, if anybody was ass-for-brains stupid enough to get in his face. He loved a good fight.
He had no clue which direction to go, so he picked a vaguely downhill slope. Uphill would make his heart beat faster, and every lub-dub smacked at his brain tissues like the blow of a splitting mall.
Downhill. Down the drain, like Kev’s dream scolding. The partying, the fucking, the fighting, on days like this he saw it for what it was: a cheap trick to distract him from the sinkhole under his solar plexus.
His whole life, one big goddamn flinch.
The sinkhole was getting bigger, ground shifting, threatening to pitch him in. He might never find his way back up if he fell. Dad hadn’t. Neither had Kev. They’d fallen like rocks. All the way to the bottom.
Thunk. The muted thump of a car door had him spinning around and sinking down into guard before he knew he’d moved.
The tension sagged when he saw his brothers getting out of Seth Mackey’s Avalanche. Seth got out. Then Miles, from the passenger side.
Sean’s stomach sank. It was an ambush. He was so screwed.
The guys flicked each other glances that made him feel about six years old. Sean’s having one of his freak-outs. Quick, get the trank gun.
The one person in the world who had known him better than Con and Davy knew him had died fifteen years ago, to the day. He’d have calculated it to the second, if he could, but time of death had been impossible to determine. Kev’s body had been charred beyond recognition, after taking that swan dive into Hagen’s Canyon. He’d plowed through the guardrail, fallen for a few timeless seconds, then a rending crash, a hot whump as the pickup exploded—and that was it.
The blunt, chopped-off finality of it still baffled him.
There had been no skid marks leading up to the ragged hole in the guardrail. He’d searched and searched. Kev hadn’t tried to brake.
Sean saw Kev’s falling pickup reflected in Davy and Connor’s eyes too. He looked away fast. Couldn’t bear it, couldn’t share it. He had no comfort to offer, and he was too raw to accept any from them.
He just wanted to hide, alone. In a culvert somewhere.
It was easier to look Seth and Miles in the face than his brothers. He directed his glare there. “Who invited you guys to this freak show?”
Miles shrugged, his face worried. Seth’s mouth twisted into a humorless smile. “I had a brother once. I don’t need an invitation.”
Ouch. True enough. Seth’s younger brother had died too. Very badly, and only a couple of years ago. His loss was fresher than Sean’s.
Great. Another thing to feel like shit about. Thanks, guys.
Sean’s gaze slid away, leaving him with no place at all to rest it except for Seth’s black Chevy. “How’d you guys find me? X-Ray Specs?”
“We monitored you this time,” Con said. “From a safe distance. Bailing you out of jail for a drunk and disorderly is embarrassing.”
“So don’t bother, next time,” Sean suggested. “Leave me to rot.” He fished his cell out of his pocket. A transmitter inside sucked off the phone’s battery. Usually, it gave him the warm fuzzies that his family cared enough to plant spyware on him. Aw, how cute, and all that.
Connor, Davy, and Seth had all had freaky wild adventures that had convinced them that beacons were a great idea for the whole family.
Most of the time, he agreed. Maybe if Kev had carried one on his person, Sean might have found him in time to stop him from—
No. Don’t go there, he told himself. Just don’t.
Impotent fury welled up inside him. He hurled the thing over a chain-link fence. It exploded against asphalt with a tinkling smash.
“That was stupid and wasteful,” was Davy’s dour observation.
Sean kept on walking. His brothers, Miles, and Seth kept pace behind him. Like dogs hanging onto a bone. The only way to get rid of them would be to beat them into unconsciousness, but each of the three older men was more or less a match for him. Even Miles wasn’t half bad these days, with all the training he’d been putting in at the dojo. The four of them together…nah. Pain sucked. He’d pass.
“He was our brother too,” Davy said quietly.
Sean sucked in a sharp breath. “I had no intention of inflicting my tantrum on anyone. Still don’t. I love you guys, but kindly fuck off.”
There was a brief pause. “Nope,” Connor said simply.
“Don’t bother asking again,” Davy said.
There was a brief pause. “Uh, ditto,” Seth added belatedly.
Sean sagged down onto a low stone wall that bordered a flower bed, and rested his hot face against his hands. “Where am I?”
“Auburn,” Davy replied. “We followed you around last night.”
“I’ll get the truck,” Seth said. “You guys keep an eye on him.”
Sean grunted his disgust. Like they expected him to start twitching and frothing.
“Whose house did you just come out of?” Connor asked.
He shrugged. “Couple of girls,” he mumbled. “A blonde, a brunette. Nice bodies. Met them at the Hole, I think.”
“You filthy slut.” Davy’s voice had a superior note, which bugged the shit out of Sean.
“Don’t judge me,” he growled. “You’ve got the love of your life in your bed every night. So do Connor and Seth. So fuck you all, OK? The rest of us assholes have to get through the night somehow.”
“Poor lovelorn baby,” Davy said. Miles made a choked, snorting sound. Connor covered his mouth and looked away. The Avalanche pulled up. Davy and Connor seized his elbows.
