MY BESTFRIEND'S BROTHER, MY RUIN

Just...

he same terror that made my knees knock together. I was backed against

as

against the floor. A dozen blue shards skidded across the linoleum, coming

like stale cigarettes and cheap adrenaline. He kicked a kitchen chair aside. It hit th

I lifted them to sign. I don't know whe

speak hand-jive. Use your mouth or use your w

lun

like they were filling with sand. This was the "low-status" reality of Rafferty Thorne: a

choked me. I was lifted off my toes. The air left me. My vision

Let hi

dn't just open; i

o the floor, gasping, my hands flying to my nec

ati

ht the hallway light, casting a long, sharp shadow that cut across the wreckage of my

placed by a frantic, high-pitched quiver. "W

s voice was low, a smooth velvet that hid a razor b

king down. He pulled a checkbook from his inner pocket, his movements slow and de

off and held it out

atius said. "Leave. If I see your shadows on this street ag

out, his partners tripping over their o

rned, heavie

naline leaving my limbs like receding tide water. I

ensive rain filled my senses. He reached out, his thumb brushi

whispered. "

nd, a small flame of hope flickered in my chest. He had saved me. H

he warmth of his body was a shield against the cold apa

s in his tone made my heart stutter. "But your bro

Saint" I saw seconds ago was gone. His grip on my shoul

ittle secre