Page 44 of Heavy

“Byeeeee!”

Hanging up, I set my phone behind me and inch closer to the edge. The lake isn’t exactly warm, but the heat of the day makes the cool water bearable. I hadn’t planned to swim—just wanted to soak up some sun and add a little color to my skin. But now that I’m here, I kind of want to.

Humming softly, I lean forward and slip into the blue waters. The coolness tingles against my hot skin, enveloping me completely. As I resurface, I toss my hair back, gathering it in both hands. Kicking my feet to stay afloat, I pull it into a ponytail.

As I wade out from the dock, my mind drifts back to my dream. I still can’t believe I dreamt about him… actually, it was more of a nightmare…

“You want me to hurt you, just like you’re going to hurt me?”

I don’t want to hurt him… Is this my brain trying to warn me, telling me to step away while I still can?

I should at least save one of us.

14

Ronan

AGE 23

“Youarethekindof heavy that isn’t worth carrying, Ronan.”

I take another shot, the liquor stinging more than her words.

“Are you even fucking listening to me?” The crack of her palm across my cheek makes me drop the glass in my hand, the sound of it shattering echoing as the bar silences around us. “You destroy everything you touch, you know that?”

I tap on the wooden bar top, trying to get the attention of the brunette bartender. She just stares at me, so I scoff and bang my fist on the surface, making her jump.

“You cheated on me and you’re just going to stay silent! What is your fucking problem?!” The hit to the back of my head makes me groan, and I drop my forehead to my forearm. I close my eyes and begin counting backwards from ten. “Piece of shit!”

I don’tcheatbecause I don’t do relationships.

She was nothing more than a hole I dragged into my bed far too many times. It’s not my fault she got attached. I’m not here to argue about what I am or what I’m not. I don’t give a single fuck about how she feels—or about anything, really.

I’m numb.

Six hours ago, my mother was buried. I found out through an online article. Since getting out three years ago, I’ve searched weekly for any news about the family I still have alive. This week, unlike so many others, something finally showed up.

‘Joanna Ann Byrne leaves behind her husband and son…’

I threw my phone, not having the heart to see the singular ‘son’ comment. Even now, I don’t understand how I became the one shunned by my family. I’m a product of their own making. I didn’t ask for any of this shit, and now in my mother’s obituary, I’m not even mentioned. I know she wouldn’t have wanted that, but with my father being the hateful asshole he is, it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.

A grip on my shoulder, one I know that isn’t coming from Samantha, pulls me from my own fucking misery.

Turning my head, I see her brother standing there with his chest puffed out, eyes blood shot with anger. Or, maybe he’s drunk, who knows.

I’m an idiot for getting sexually involved with a Mafia Princess, or whatever she likes to call herself.

“You fucked with the wrong girl, Byrne,” he seethes, and accompanying his words, is spit.

I can’t go back…

Around him is his posse, and I can see the smug smile on Samantha’s face as though she’s won this little tiff that we are having. Honestly, I have no clue what is going on because I’m about six shots of tequila and a beer in, but fuck it, if they want to fight I’ll take it.

“You’re lucky Papa didn’t send his men to protect me,” she says, and as I look around, the bar is clearing out. The power of a Cheshire is quite incredible. I wish I had that. To snap my fingers and boom, something happens.

I’ll get there one day,maybe. If I’m not dead first.

The first punch lands square to my cheek, sending me tumbling off the barstool and right to my ass. A groan falls from my mouth as I spit out blood across the dirty floor.