Revival by Rebecca Sherwin

Author:Rebecca Sherwin [Sherwin, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 23874609
Published: 2014-01-05T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty Four

“Men rise from the ambition to another: first they seek to secure themselves against attack, and then they attack others.”

Geoff had regurgitated the words of another and spat them back at me for years.

There was no first and second.

I did them both at once.

October 2nd, 2010

I woke up with a groan, a mouth that felt like the floor of a brewery, tasted like I’d been licking the barrels, and a motherfucker of a headache.

I couldn’t open my eyes, not at first; it was only when I caught the scent of familiarity that consciousness fully found me. Almost. I opened one eye and used it to scan everything in my line of sight, without having to move. I was on the sofa, I noticed that much. One of my arms was flung off the edge and had been since I passed out, judging by the complete numbness and the pins and needles when I tried to wiggle my fingers. My legs were dangling over the other end; I must have fallen asleep before I could get comfortable because my back hurt almost as much as my head. I was going to suffer today.

Still that scent surrounded me, like someone had stuck a diffuser under my nose, but my weary state of mind couldn’t place the smell. I opened the other eye and nearly fell off the sofa when I saw Charlie behind it watching me, her arms folded, back straight, shoulders squared like I was a kid about to suffer a grounding.

“Christ, Charlie.” I rubbed my hands over my face and swiped the grit away from my eyes. “What are you doing here?”

She pursed two rouge lips, lifting her eyes to look across the room at the sofa opposite me.

“Who’s your friend?”

I turned my head slowly to follow her gaze and for the second time in less that twelve hours, wanted to rewind time.

“Oh, him?” I nodded with feigned confidence towards a sleeping Jesse. “That’s John.”

There was no doubt that if she’d have asked for his second name, it would have been Smith. Let’s face it, I had no hopes of going beyond John Smith or Joe Bloggs.

“Hmm,” she pondered for a minute. “Who is he?”

I shrugged and sat up like I had a ton of bricks on my chest. “He’s an old friend.”

“The boxer you’ve been training, I take it?”

Fuck!

Busted.

I shifted nervously and stood up, swaying on my feet and licking my lips for some desperately needed moisture. I turned and headed to the kitchen for water to buy me some time. Charlie followed me, thankfully.

“How long have you known?” I asked, leaning over the sink and sucking in deep, sobering breaths.

“Since last month.”

Shit.

“What were you doing in Kent, Curtis? And who is this John? Why is he so important?”

“Who says he’s important?”

“I know you.” I felt her step closer, filling the space between us. She scraped her nails lightly down my back and then back up over my shoulders, and began to massage the knots that had formed. I tried not to gag.

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