Prologue
“Bobby! Head’s up.”
I look up just in time to dodge the bag of chips my youngest brother tosses at my head. Like the agile fighter I’ve trained all my life to be, I weave out of the way and slam a fist into my best friend’s chest as I pass.
Jon wheezes on a laugh. “What the fuck? Why you hitting me, peacock?”
“Because you’re there.” I toss the bag and laugh when they crunch against my brother’s fat head. “You’ve gotta pay for those now, asshole. That’s not on me.”
“Excuse us.” I snap my arms close to my body before I accidentally hit the girl that pushes past us. With her eyes on the floor, but her shoulders high and proud, she doesn’t look up. She barely notices us here. “Move out of the way, please.”
I meet Jon’s gaze and grit my teeth as an elderly man clutches to the woman’s arm. Slowly,painfully,he shuffles along the grocery store aisle beside the woman with long hair tied in a low ponytail. Long thin arms. Long narrow legs.
She’s all sorts of tall, but the man’s weight drags her down some.
He’s fragile. Too thin. Weak.
And really, really sick.
“Bobby, let’s go.”
Jimmy slams his fist into my gut, but my eyes remain locked on the couple as they slowly move along.
Navy blue gown with red stripes, and old people slippers; every step the man takes looks like he’s walking on the battlefields of Normandy.
He’s wounded, he’s tired, he’s ready to tap out.
“Ah, crap.” The blonde’s head comes up. “Shit. I forgot the milk.” She looks down the aisle, then back to her companion. “Just stay here a sec, okay? I’ll run fast.”
He nods and squeezes her arm. Lookingupat her – though by the length of his torso, the length of his legs, the width of what was once a broad chest, if he’d just straighten out and stand tall, it would be she who looks up at him – he smiles like a goofball. “No running allowed. I’m not out yet, babe. I can stand here and pick out some chips. I’mhungry.” The word rolls up his throat like a playful growl. “Find me a milkshake. A big one. Banana.”
She smiles and works to make sure he’s steady on his feet. “Okay, be good. Don’t run away.”
Turning on her heel, she rushes away without sparing a single glance for the three fighters that take up most of the aisle. She doesn’t even notice my dumb ass brother crunching on the chips he’s yet to pay for.
The man’s eyes follow the girl, and when she turns the corner and rushes out of sight, his icy blue gaze stops on me.
Tilting his head to the side curiously, I swallow at how sickly he is.
Spiky stubble on the top of his pale head. Cracked lips. Bent nose like we see in the gym every day. Everything about him screams hard life and fragility.
And an expiration date.
But not his eyes.
His eyes speak of youth, and strength, and wit.
“Bryan?” His voice croaks out weakly, barely more than a whisper as he takes one single step forward. “Bryan?”
I look to Jimmy – who freezes with a mouthful of chips. Then I turn back to the man.
He takes another step closer, but stops when his arm no longer reaches the shelf. “That you, Bry?”
I look behind me, though I know he’s speaking to me. “Um, no sir. I’m Bobby. But my daddy was Bryan.”
With a single nod, and an expression that says ‘huh, you don’t say,’ he turns on his slippers and slowly shuffles away. “You tell Bry I said hey.”