Page 14 of Pretty Broken Wings

“I’m not drunk,” Dave’s voice comes from inside the car. It’s high and a little panicked. He knows my brother’s a lawyer. “I only had one beer.”

Suddenly, I’m slammed against the hood of the car. Gage is in my face, his breath hot. “You need to get it together.” He smells like cinnamon.

I chuckle. “You need to–”

The glasses are whipped off my face. Before I realize it, I’m sliding along the hood of the car. I try to catch myself, but there’s no handhold, and I fall, grinding my palms into the asphalt.

I hear Dave protesting from inside the car. But he doesn’t bother to step out.

Smart fucker. Everyone knows not to get between my brother and me..

“Did you hear me, fucker?” Gage rages.

The throbbing is turning into a baseline now, squeezing pressure in my head. Gage must have hit me again. I don’t care. ‘Cause I made the mighty Gage Newman swing.

It’s funny.

“Where does your bitch live?”

Mybitch? The words make delicious pleasure roll through me.

I’m pretty sure I must have been sitting there, grinning, ‘cause Gage’s foot boots me in the ass.

Okay. That’s a little much. I stagger to my feet, but Gage is pushing a feminine form into the passenger seat. Then he climbs in the back and slams the door. I hear the window roll down.

“Call Mom to come pick you up. Or sleep here, for all I care.”

Then Dave and Gage leave with the car, my glasses, and my fucking girl.

My fucking girl.

That fucker better not touch her.

You know what? Fuck no. I stumble over to the building to call a ride. One of my buddies was still at the bar. He picks up and says he’ll be on his way over.

As I wait, something sounds like it’s skittering to my right. I look over to squint at the club door. Getting so close up that I almost bump into the door, I can vaguely see it’s lined with Halloween decorations. Among the skeletons are little creepy ravens with their heads turned over their shoulders.

They look just like the ravens that we used to set up every Halloween.

Suddenly, I’m hit with a memory.

“Axel, get that one, will you?” Rich, my stepdad, motions at me from the attic ladder. I shuffle over the plywood to the Halloween decorations and slide them over to him.

“Thanks, bud!” He grins, and it makes warmth move through me. No one can tell Gage and me apart except for Mom and Dad, and sometimes they still call us by the wrong names. That is, until Rich came along. He can always tell us apart.

Shuffling back down the ladder, I trot along behind him. We open up the decor, pulling out orange and purple lights, ghosts, and witches. It’s always been my favorite.

“Got you something.” Rich pulls a plastic bag off the counter. Excitement rushes through me. Mom didn’t get us a lot of stuff after she and Dad split up.

Inside the bag are little birds. They look like crows with real feathers.

“Smartest birds in the world.” Rich pulls one out and hands it to me.

I take it, the soft belly feathers brushing the pads of my fingers while the longer feathers rasp against my palms.

“You want to know the scariest thing about this town?”

I narrow my eyes, skeptical. Growing up in a haunted town means I’ve heard it all.