24 Going

“Sorry.”

Dom raised an eyebrow, the scowl sharpening as he looked over the top of the dull black Chevy. Brian rested his elbows on the roof, handing over the small radio so that Dom could fasten it to his visor. “For what exactly?”
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23 In the Light of Day

Brightman held his arm tightly as he stalked down the back hallway to his apartment. It bled less and hurt more; the painkillers that he had taken in Heather’s bathroom served to keep his head clear but that was as far as it went. Continue reading →

22 Surrender

Tired. Never in his life had Dom felt so tired. Even his clothes felt heavy, making his legs ache and pulling his shoulders down where the cotton touched his skin. Old and tired. He had raced for almost the entire span of his life and never had he hated it so much. Hated the life and hated it at every place where it touched him. If he was another sort of man, he would walk away from it, but he knew that he couldn’t. That he wasn’t made that way.
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