Page 55 of Broken

I tear out after him. Ain’t no way I’m letting him beat me back home.

The festival is along the promenade by Waterfront Park, which is a short walk from the shop. It’s a beautiful day but I keep looking up at the sky. I haven’t forgotten that torrential downpour. For many reasons. Including my boots still being wet.

The Harbor Harvest Festival happens annually. Despite my moaning about it, we’ve been coming for years. Mostly for the amazing bratwurst and cider stall owned by a couple of German guys who travel the country attending festivals. They only swing through Baltimore once a year.

As we walk, the amazing aroma of freshly cooked street food mingles with the sugary scent of cotton candy. A family are approaching with three kids, faces painted like butterflies and tigers, laughing at something their dad is saying to them.

Phoenix watches with a faint smile. Apart from Nero and his mom, he doesn’t have other family. Much like me, my dad was absent from the day mom found out she was pregnant with me. Gwen is gone and mom is in an assisted living facility.

If that is what you call a place for someone who has completely lost their mind to grief. She never got over Gwen’s death. Guess having another child who needed her, didn’t really warrant being important enough to keep her from shutting down.

Everyone is at the Bratz and Cider stall, having secured a large picnic table. There are three giant jugs of cider on the table, and it’s littered with plastic glasses.

Sumner is chatting with a woman, giving her his easy smile and flirty eyes. Shane has two women and a guy with him. Lucky jumps up when she sees us, a broad grin on her face. Bouncing off the bench she comes over and jumps at me.

I’m not a fucking hugger but she doesn’t give me much choice, she’s had a few ciders already. I pat her back with one arm. Her gaze goes to Phoenix and they have a silent conversation. He gives her a crooked grin, and she smiles and pulls him into a hug too.

“Come on, we’ve started without you.”

“I can see that,” I drawl and head to the table.

Everyone greets us. Shane introduces us to his friends, whose names I promptly forget, and we stand by as Lucky pours us both a large pint of cider. I’m starving but the line for brats is about twenty deep. They won’t run out, they never do, so I’ll wait. Phoenix takes a seat and falls into easy conversation with Sumner and the girl.

Sometimes I wish I was more like these guys. It comes easy to them. I’m way too guarded. Mostly because I don’t like people. It’s hard for me to open up and I’m not bothered by what anyone thinks.

When the line goes down, I join, telling everyone it’s on me, including the harem of women. I’m not hurting for money and know they appreciate me buying.

As I gather up all the food on a tray to bring it over, another group arrive to join the table.

Like a magnet, I catch Calli’s eye. She’s wearing a black sundress, slightly longer than the one she wore the other day. The skirt is billowing around her legs in the light breeze coming off the water, and she has wedge sandals on with a slight heel.

Her hair is up in a messy bun and her long neck is on display. It brings back memories of the other day. I can remember the taste of her skin as easily as if I’ve just lifted my lips away.

She smiles a little awkwardly. I dip my chin but have my hands full with food. When I lift my head again, she’s turned away and is chatting with Shane. Her little crew is with her, including Jericho and another guy who is sticking close to the girl who works at the coffee shop with Calli.

Doesn’t appear Calli has brought anyone along. Good job. I’m not sure I could contain the urge to rip off the head of anyone looking at her, let alone touching her.

“Need a hand there, G-man? Or are yer too busy thinking about how you want to get a leg over with Lucky’s hot new friend?”

“What the fuck did you say?” I glare at Sumner. I’ve listened to his Irish terminology enough to know what that means. And I’m not going to tell him I’ve already ‘got my leg over’.

Jesus, when you think about it, that’s a very literal and kind of disturbing phrase.

He winks and takes some of the food off me. “You’ve got it something brutal, ay? Not that I blame yer. She is a fine mot.”

“A what?” I turn to him, that shit I’m not familiar with. And in fairness, it sounds derogatory. I’m not having him talking shit about Calli.

“Mot. Means sexy woman in your American language my friend.”

Asshole. There is only one way to respond to that. “Go fuck yourself, Sumner.”

Sumner lets out a loud laugh. “Don’t try to glare yer way around it. I’ve never seen you interested in anything or anyone. It’s a rare and beautiful experience. Like witnessing a total eclipse of the sun.”

I can’t stop the snort at his analogy. Irritated with myself for laughing and giving Sumner any kind of leverage against me, I elbow him out of the way, forcing a scowl.

If he spotted the way I’m looking at Calli, there is no way the others will miss it.

I need to school my facial expressions. That’s easy when your perpetual expression is an angry one. Forcing myself not to look at her is fucking hard.

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