Never by Blue Saffire

Chapter 1

Not Better

Sal

Two years later…

“You sure you’re good?” King says over the phone.

I turn from my view of the street to shift my gaze up to the ceiling as I perch on the windowsill. I blow out a breath and roll my eyes shut, knowing he can’t see me, or the anguish and exhaustion written on my face. The words are there, but I trap them inside.

They can never come out. Am I good? No. Am I surviving? I guess.

The nightmares still come and go as they please. I think I sleep less because of them, trying to avoid what awaits me in the shadows. Then there’s the paranoia, but I can’t tell King any of this, because I know the outcome. I can’t have that on my conscience.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just busy,” I reply.

King’s quiet for a few beats. My brother has this way of speaking without saying a word. You almost feel as if you’re being chastised in the rumble of his silence.

“You know I’m here if you need me. When you need me.”

It’s clear in his voice he wants to push, but he knows me. I’m not going to talk unless I’m ready. Which is most likely why he restrains himself and doesn’t force me to cough up my issues the way he would with anyone else, especially our sister, Eva.

“Yes, King, I know. Listen, I’m going to get to work. You need anything else from me?” I reply.

“Just to know you’re good. You feel me?”

“I feel you. I’m fine. I’ll call in a couple of days to check in.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I’ll call you.” He laughs and hangs up.

I know, I know. I probably will forget to call. I get lost in my work and forget the world, but that’s the best thing for me. An idle mind is a playground and all of that.

I look down at the street below. Couples and groups walk by. They make life look so easy.

What I would give to feel that kind of normal again. I pull my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. The tears begin to burn the backs of my eyes.

My soul hurts. I was robbed… I stop my thoughts short. I’m not going to sit here feeling sorry for myself.

“Time to rebuild. Regroup,” I breathe and stand. “Back to work, Sal.”

I’m working on a special project for King, so I’ll probably be pulling an all-nighter. What’s new?

I push up and head toward my desk. My stomach growls and reminds me I had planned to go for coffee and donuts or something before King’s call. I frown.

King had some tension in his voice before he picked up on my own. I can’t help wondering if club business is the cause or is something else wearing on him the same as me? I push all that aside.

King is a great prez. Whatever’s eating at him, I’m sure he’ll figure it out. Getting my part done will help smooth things out.

“Focus,” I mutter to myself.

One look around my apartment and I slump my shoulders. This place is starting to weigh in its loneliness. I snatch up my backpack and shove my laptop inside.

I can work from the Vigo’s, it’s a great restaurant not too far away. Camdan, Vigo’s son, runs the place and he’s always so protective of me when I come in to eat alone.

I hate to be one to stereotype, but I swear Vigo and Rabbi give me a mob vibe. However, they make me feel safe, like the brotherhood of the Lost Souls. Rabbi and a few of his guys have walked me home a time or two. Something I only allowed after King and I ate at Vigo’s together and I got the feeling their kindness wasn’t a coincidence.

“Food,” I hum as I think of the delicious sauce they make.

However, my heart is just happy we won’t be feeling lonely. Yes, I’m lonely. Heartbreakingly so.

Will this ever get better?

Gutter

“Forty-eight, forty-nine.”

Sweat drips down my chest and face as I force one more sit up. It’s going to be another one of those nights. I’m not going to get any sleep. Each time I close my eyes, guilt, disgust, and torment rush me.

My phone rings and I bare my teeth at it. If this is Terry again, I’m going to hurl the damn thing across the living room. Although I know he’s not the trigger for all of this, I want to blame my cousin for my rising demons.

I cut ties a long time ago. I had to. Whenever Terry and I are in each other’s lives, nothing good comes to us.

I’m a Lost Soul, so not checking to see who’s calling isn’t an option. I reluctantly reach for the device resting on the coffee table I built with my own hands. One of the things I’ve found that actually brings me some peace.

“Fuck,” I hiss when Terry’s number flashes on my screen.

The peace I’ve been trying to find all night goes out of the window. I refuse to allow him to pull me back in. My soul tells me he’s going to rub raw these old wounds I’m doing my best to ignore.

“Not now.” I send the call to voicemail and stare into the empty space.

I came to Seattle to check on my property and make a drop for the club. I thought I’d take my time, clear my head and shove these demons back into their closet before I head home. Home.

No matter what state I’m in, I’ve yet to find that. South Carolina is as close as I’ve come. However, it’s still not there. This place has none of the comfort it should. Another property, another vacant space, if you ask me.

The phone rings again. I growl at it, but when I glance at the screen, some of the tension lifts from my chest. Picking up, I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to release the pressure sitting there.

“What do you need, brother?” I answer.

“Nothing, just checking on you. Diggs said you took a trip. You taking a trip means your head’s fucking with you,” Grim replies. “What’s up? You need to talk?”

“It’s club business. I’m fine,” I say tightly, only frustrating myself.

I know my brother means well. Grim and Reap pulled me in when I first arrived at the Lost Souls’ compound with King two years ago. They made me feel like I belonged. No questions asked.

“You and I know that’s bullshit. But I’ll allow you your space. I know what it’s like to have demons on your back. I’m just offering an ear.”

“I know. Look, I’m dealing with it.”

“Do what you need to do. We here if you need, you feel me, brother?”

I pause for a moment. Grim is one crazy motherfucker. If anyone would understand the crazy going on in my head, it would be him.

I shake the thought away. I’m not about to open this box. It needs to stay locked forever. No, this isn’t getting any better, but talking about it isn’t going to change a thing.

“Yeah, I feel you,” I reply instead of taking the offering of a listening ear.

The line goes dead and I’m suddenly tired. Tired of life, tired of running from shadows. Tired.