Lights danced in my eyes as I came to. I was lying on the ground on my back. Surrounding me were a few people, five or six at the most. The fact that not many people had noticed me wasn’t surprising at all. No one ever seemed to pay any mind to me, chances were no one had even realized I’d been knocked out.
“He’s up!” Someone said. They sounded as though they were shouting into a far away tunnel.
Through hazy eyes I scoured the faces around me. Ryker was here. There was the bartender. The redhead was nowhere in sight. The git who’d knocked me out wasn’t here either.
Ryker leaned down, staring at me intently. “Hey, Max. How are you feeling?”
“What, you a ruddy doctor now?” Tired sarcasm laced my voice, yet I winced as I spoke - my jaw was throbbing painfully.
“No, but I think I remember how to check for concussions. You hit the ground pretty hard.” He rapped the floor lightly with his knuckles. “And this is concrete.” He stared at both of my eyes, checking who-knew-ruddy-what, and held his finger in front of my face.
“Right, mate, you think you remember. You’ll probably end up finding cancer-”
“I think you’re good,” He said, cutting me off abruptly. “But you should stay down-”
Realizing with a sudden spark of drunken determination that I had to find Josh and beat him to a pulp, I stood up faster than I should have. Blood rushed from my head to my toes, disoriented I swayed and desperately reached for a barstool which collapsed unreliably beneath me. The barstool and I fell to the ground. My knees hit the floor hard.
“I said you should stay down!” Ryker said.
“Where is he!” I slurred angrily, ignoring the pain in my knees as best as I could and trying to get up again. My feet seemed to refuse to work properly.
Ryker grabbed my shoulders; forcing me to sit down. “He left, Max! He hit you until he thought you were dead and then he ran.” Ryker scowled at me.
Only now did I feel the aches throughout the rest of my body - the ones that adrenaline had masked. My chest, shoulders, stomach, groin, and jaw were all painfully sore.
The vast majority of the other people in the building had fallen silent, apart from whispered murmurings as faces turned towards us, the small group of people in the corner.
A bitter chuckle escaped my mouth. “‘Course he ran. Of course the ruddy maniac ran. That’s all he ever does.”
“I beg to differ,” came a somber voice from within the crowd. Josh stepped forward, a triumphant look plastered onto his face. I could plainly see revenge glinting in his eyes. ‘I didn’t leave the building. I’ve been waiting.”
I scowled. “Waiting for what, exactly? Your medal of honor?”
“I was defending myself!” He shouted. “For what you’ve done, junkie, you deserved that beating. You deserved death.”
Time seemed to slow.
Blood drained from my face, and it was then that I realized that I was getting into a fight with the very person I had chosen to confide my secrets in for years. He knew things about me that I had never wished to disclose to the other members of W.A.S.P. But unfortunately for me it appeared that my time of secrecy was drawing to a close.
Josh seemed pleased with not only the looks of confusion and shock that appeared on faces throughout the crowd, but with the expression of sheer terror that must have come onto my face. He took a few steps forward, sneering down at me.
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Action"I traded being a drunkard for being a kleptomaniac junkie." 23 year old Max works two very different jobs - He's the janitor and assistant clerk of a piano store; and he also works as a serial arsonist for a group called W.A.S.P. He's struggling t...
