Page 27

Chapter 26

Louis

“What the fuck is your problem?” Ravi snaps.

I turn from him and down another glass of whiskey. Closing time is approaching, and even if that wasn’t the case, most of the customers left after my outburst, and now none remain except for my miserable self.

Ravi lays his hand on my shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Go after him.”

“Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.”

Instead of fear, Ravi’s eyes are full of concern, and he doesn’t let me go until I shake him off.

“No need to be a fucking asshole about it.”

I know he’s right—I know —and yet it’s like I’m watching myself from the outside, with the whiskey loosening my cursed tongue and taking me on an emotional tailspin I’m too far gone to stop.

“If you won’t go after him, I will,” Ravi says. “He shouldn’t be out there alone.”

I rise from the barstool and slam the glass down. “The fuck you will.”

Ravi raises a brow. “Are you jealous? I’m not even fucking gay, Louis, you know that.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

It’s not about him being gay or not—it’s about connection. The fact that Sparrow seems more comfortable in Ravi’s company than mine makes me want to punch something, and the only one whose face is in front of me, ripe and ready to hit, is Ravi. My best friend, Ravi. The only one whose company I can stand in this godforsaken town, except for Sparrow’s, of course, but Sparrow’s company is no longer granted to me, and rightly so. I’m a jaded, grumpy piece of shit with a short fuse and bloody knuckles, and Sparrow deserves someone better. Someone kind.

I almost did to him what I did to Justin. I hurt him. I didn’t hit him, but he whimpered from my hands, and that’s bad enough. Even when I try so fucking hard to take care of the ones I love, I can’t do it. I just can’t. Sooner or later, my anger and fucked-up bullshit takes over.

Tonight, the whiskey will be my only company, and even when closing time has passed, I’ll drink myself into a stupor and wake up the next day and do it all over again. It’s the same way I dealt with Justin breaking up with me. How else can I handle the acute pain searing through my heart? Maybe I should become like my father tried to make me: a creature who feels only anger because anger doesn’t hurt.

Well, it doesn’t hurt me —it hurts other people instead.

With Sparrow, I thought I could be something different. When he gazed up at me with starry-eyed adoration, or when his cheeks dimpled with his smile, or when his body opened up to me, I thought maybe, maybe, I’d found another way to live.

But no—bad people don’t get happy endings, and I have nothing to offer him except my terrible, twisted love. He better run in the other direction, as far away from me as he can. He better leave this town, lest I come for him and beg for his forgiveness. For me, there is no forgiveness to be had. For me, there is no relief.

How many more times can I get kicked down before I can’t rise again? I feel it in my heart that the number is few, and for Sparrow, it’s likely even fewer.

He’s alone now, wandering in the darkness, and I’m the one who put him there. I’m the one who banished him out to the cold. He’ll heal eventually—he’s young, and his heart is malleable and pure, while mine is old and set in its ways. He was a soothing Band-Aid for my aching soul, and I ripped it off before the wound started to fester, so Sparrow can heal anew and become the one he’s supposed to be.

Without me.

He’s so strong—a lot stronger than he knows—and he’ll land on his feet soon enough. I, on the other hand, will linger here, in this godforsaken town with its godforsaken people, and never again will I allow myself to feel the touch of someone as sweet and pure and kindhearted as him.

“What about that ex of his?” Ravi asks suddenly.

“What about him?”

None of us have seen Aaron since that rainy night Sparrow came to seek refuge in my home. He might have left town by now. Who would stay in an unfamiliar town for months in the hope of running into his ex-boyfriend? No one. I know I wouldn’t. The same day Justin broke up with me, I asked the president of my club to transfer me to another city, and I ended up here.

Why wait for someone who doesn’t want you back? Why try to win someone over who you clearly don’t deserve?

“Maybe he’s better off with him,” I mutter.

Ravi stops wiping the bar counter to stare at me. “You can’t be serious. That guy hurt him; you know that.”

“ I hurt him.” The words rip from my throat, where they’ve been stewing with their hopeless truth.

“What if someone hurts him more than you did, and you could’ve prevented it? Would you be able to live with yourself if that was the case?”

“He’s not my responsibility anymore.” My words are slurred, and I can barely see straight. Must be the whiskey, but I bet the burning behind my eyes plays a part too. “Besides, he fucking…left already. I’ve waited too long.”

“It’s only been like fifteen minutes.”

Damn. It feels like hours have passed.

“He might still be around,” Ravi continues. “Don’t you think you should at least check? He might be in trouble.”

“ I’m trouble.”

Ravi snorts out a laugh. “Sure you are. But if you won’t, I will, and I think he’d rather it be you who came to see him.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I grunt, tears thickening up my throat. “He likes you. He feels comfortable around you.”

“Oh, and you don’t think he likes you ?” Ravi says with another laugh, lighter this time. “Come on, Louis, I know you’re drunk, but you can’t be that fucking clueless.”

“He only thinks he likes me. That kid would lap up any semblance of kindness anywhere he could get it.”

“So you admit you’re kind, then. That’s a start.”

I give a wordless grunt in reply.

“We’re all a little fucked up, you know,” Ravi continues. “That doesn’t mean we can’t change. It doesn’t mean we can’t do better.”

“But I hurt him. And I hurt Justin too.”

“I know.”

My eyes go wide. “You do?”

“Maurice told me what happened. Why you transferred.”

“That fucker,” I grunt. “So why did you still insist on becoming friends with me?”

Ravi shrugs. “Because I saw your potential, I guess. I saw the kindness behind that big, scary exterior.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Don’t get me wrong—you’re an ass most of the time, but deep down, I know you’re just aching to take care of someone. Someone to call your own. Someone like him.” He jerks his head toward the exit.

I shake my head. “It was hopeless to begin with. He’s far too young, and I’m far too…” I shudder, clenching my teeth. Awful .

“I’ve seen you hurt people,” Ravi says slowly, “but only ones that deserved it.”

“My father deserved it,” I grit out. “But I didn’t hurt him.”

He pestered my mother so badly that she ended up killing herself when I was eighteen. Still, I did nothing. I fled like I always do when shit gets tough. In turn, my father succumbed to whatever minuscule speck of guilt that still remained in him and hung himself soon after.

By then, it was all too late, and I was left with this sick rage inside me. This terrible anger.

Anger at my inability to protect my mom from my father’s fists. Anger at my hesitation to exact revenge, even when I was old and strong enough to do so. And now it’s too late, all too late, and all that remains is the rage.

Not at my father, but at myself.

There’s no way to heal what’s already done, but maybe I can at least beg Sparrow for forgiveness. I might not deserve him, and he might not deserve me, but at least he deserves my remorse.

I slam the glass on the bar top and stand up, hair a messy curtain around my face. In the state I’m in, I’m barely fit to stand, but at least the will to make things right is stronger than the will to pass out.

As I stumble toward the door, I catch Ravi’s eye one last time. He does a salute, the idiot, making me smile despite everything and stirring the last bit of hope still residing in my jaded heart.

The November night embraces me with a misty chill. Without much hope that Sparrow’s still around, I scan the parking lot. It’s empty save for two figures down by the woods. They’re struggling, with one larger figure atop another, smaller one, and although I can barely make them out in the darkness, I know instantly who they are.

Fear and rage hit me, sobering me up in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible, and I spring into action.

First, I grab a fallen branch from the side of the road, my father’s voice echoing in my head. Be resourceful.

With long strides, I step toward the two figures, and as the attacker turns to me with his mouth open wide, I send a well-aimed swing to the side of his head. Be quick.

He doesn’t even have time to scream. With one hit, he falls like a marionette with its strings cut, sprawling to the ground. Be ruthless.

At least my father gave me some good advice—not in terms of hunting animals, but in terms of protecting the ones I love.

“Louis!” Sparrow leaps from the ground, but he doesn’t stop there; he throws himself into my embrace so suddenly I waver, despite his slight weight. I hold him tight, sighing into his shoulder, a wave of immense relief coursing through me.

He’s okay. He’s unharmed.

My violence saved him.

He buries his cheek into my vest, and only now do I realize he’s been crying. What did that monster do to him? I set him back on the ground, and he stares at the unconscious young man at our feet.

“Is he dead?”

I nudge the fucker with my foot, and he lets out a pained groan. Guess not.

“What are we going to do with him?” Sparrow asks.

“I have a few ideas.”

Together, we stare at Aaron’s unconscious form, and again, I wish I was stone-cold sober. I want all my senses saturated with his pain.

He hurt my Sparrow, and he’ll pay for it in blood.