Page 4 of Fury

We find a late-night café just two streets away and take a seat. “The good thing about London is places like this,” I say. “You can never feel lonely when there are late-night cafés around.”

He smiles. “I guess not.”

“So, tell me where you’ve been.”

His hood is up, hiding part of his face, and I wish he’d take it down so I can see his expression properly. I used to know when he was lying or hiding something, and right now, I long to see whether his eyes are filled with pain when he recalls his movements or if he’s found happiness.

“From Manchester, I went to Liverpool, but the family there was too much, so I ran away to Nottingham. I got into some shit, ended up inside, and found the club. I came to London a month ago.”

My heart aches knowing he didn’t find the family he so deserved. “My mum always wondered where you ended up,” I say.

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling. “How is she?”

I nod. “Good. Really good. She doesn’t foster anymore. I had to convince her to take some time for herself after my dad died.”

“Shit, Xanth, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was sudden, so he didn’t suffer.” I take a breath. “Heart attack,” I add, “five years ago.”

“That’s shit,” he mutters.

“For what it’s worth, he regretted what happened,” I offer, not quite meeting his eyes, “just letting them take you away so suddenly.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “It was a long time ago.”

“What do you do now?” I ask, changing the subject.

“This and that,” he says, smirking, and my heart sinks a little. My parents fostered hundreds of kids, wanting them to have a good start in life. Reese didn’t work out, like lots of others, but knowing he’s following the same pattern of behaviour his own parents did is sad. “And you’re a nurse,” he states. “I always knew you’d be helping people.”

“You were good at that too,” I remind him.

He looks away, grabbing a paper menu and scanning it. “I’ve changed a lot since then, Xanth.”

“Maybe one day I can watch you fight,” I suggest, even though I hate all that violence.

“Maybe.”

A waitress bounces over, smiling wide at Reese. “Hey, Fury,” she gushes. “What can I get you?”

“Usual,” he replies. “And the same for my friend,” he adds, nodding in my direction. She scans her eyes over me dismissively and saunters off.

“You’ve been here a month and you’re already befriending the locals,” I point out, amused.

“She’s friends with someone in the club,” he replies.

“Fury?” I repeat the name she used for him.

“Road name,” he mutters.

“You never did like Reese.”

“It was my dad’s name,” he reminds me.

The waitress returns with two coffees and places them on the table. “I get off in ten minutes,” she says pointedly.

He gives a stiff nod, and she smiles wide and goes off to clear another table. The silence stretches between us, and I pull out my mobile to check for messages. There’s just one, and when I open it, I smile.

CHAPTER TWO

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