Loose Ends - Book One

Levi ~ Jackass Jab

After a few miles of walking and grumbling to myself, my stomach finally realizes it hasn't eaten. I'm not too comfortable with the idea of walking into a restaurant looking disheveled from the fight. However, I have to eat any chance I get; my body doesn't always allow me. It's like I forgot how to look after myself after I lost my mother.

On the way home, I spot Papa John's, which Vicky swears is the best pizza around. I dust myself off the best I can and cross the street into the restaurant.

Inside it seems cramped, but that's only because almost every seat is taken. Light jazz flowed from overhead speakers and mixed with lunch chatter. Everyone is occupied with either their guests, or the football game playing on the TV. I'm met with a cook as soon as I approach the counter.

"How can I help you?"

"I want two slices of the spiciest thing you got," I reply.

He nods and rings me up for $6. When I hand him a few bills, he looks back up at my face with concern. "You okay?"

"Yep."

He nods again and hands me the receipt. "Ten minutes."

I turn around and scan for an empty table. Every table is in use, but there's one by the front door taken by a familiar looking guy.

He looks up at me and I realize it's Thomas. He's by himself, just sipping on a beverage and scrolling through his phone. He gives an inviting wave over and I head to his table.

"Hey," I greet him.

"The hell happened to your lip?"

I pull out a chair and sit. "Your friend, James."

He sets down his soda. "James did that?"

"Not directly." I rub the growing bump on my bottom lip. "He bought his way out of that Tundra, alright. The price was me."

"Holy shit." He wipes his face out of disbelief. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." I scoff. "They look worse."

"They? As in, more than one person?"

I roll my eyes. "What's his problem?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "He mentioned to me that you stood him up or something."

Thinking about that entire night gives me a headache. I was giving the guy drugs behind an old building. It wasn't a date.

"He's also just...complex," he continues. "I know he's got issues with his dad, right now. He vents to me about him every day."

"Yeah, trust me, I know all about daddy issues. I don't go making it other people's problems, though." I take a penny out of my pocket and start spinning it around the table. "Where's he at, now?"

"No idea. I'm not his biggest fan, either."

"No?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Not really. I'm aware he's an asshole..."

Thomas says another thing or two about James, but his words start to fade out when something catches my eye. Three tables diagonal from us, a head of long, unruly, black hair is staring out of a window. Her chin rests on her hand; she's deep in thought. The same denim jacket I saw at the gas station is now tied around her waist. No sleeves, just a black tank. I can see flame-like wings tatted on her right hand.