There’re more footsteps, running, then halting, and then Nate in the doorway.
“What the fuck’s going on?” he yells.
“Stay out of this,” I snap.
But the distraction has given Axel the upper hand. He wrestles his arm around my neck, jamming me into a headlock. He squeezes.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he tells me. “A fucking idiot.”
“Stop it,” Nate says, trying to pull Axel off me. “Stop this. What the fuck is going on?”
Axel’s arms go limp and Nate crowbars us apart.
My brother spits on the ground. Sweat skids down his face. The night is hot and steamy, the air heavy. My own sweat drips into my eyes. I blink it away, grinding my molars together.
“He’s being a fucking idiot,” Axel mutters again, and I run at him, run at him hard, run at him with ten tons of anger.
I slam into his body, and he stumbles backward. One step, two steps, and then he’s losing his footing, his feet slipping from under him.
Time stops again.
Axel hangs in the air.
Horror slaps across his face.
And then he’s falling, falling over the balcony railing, falling through the air.
“Axel,” I scream, lurching forward.
But it’s too late.
I can’t reach him.
My hand swipes through empty air a second time.
My brother falls.
And everything changes forever.
1
Connor
I’ve been sentto track down Nate and bring him home.
I’m the only one who ever can.
That’s because Axel, Mrs. Finch and all the others assume I have to drag him kicking and screaming from one of the strip clubs, gambling dens, or maybe some illegal fight scene.
They’re wrong.
To some degree anyway. I’m sure he thundered his way through all those joints, like a tornado of destruction leaving a path of floating bank notes, busted noses and broken hearts.
However, like every fucking tornado, eventually he’ll blow himself out. Even a force of nature like Nate has limited funds and limited energy.
Eventually, all that rage will burn itself out and he’ll be nursing his wounds.
If I leave it long enough, give him time to cycle through his rampage, there’s only one place I’ll find him.