Lost in the Shadows

Chapter 13

Paul whistled low under his breath at the request, his constant smirk of amusement frozen on his face as Marko raised his brows and looked from David to Star and back again. Dwayne sat up a little straighter and leaned forward with his arms resting on his drawn up knees and raised an eyebrow in anticipation.

                The boys had heard bits about David's changing – snippets he had thought relevant as and when, but none had heard the full story and so all were still, wondering if he would grant Star's request.

                'Well?' the girl asked, shifting the hair from her face as she leant back a little to take in David's stony expression. The light wisps of cloud that had snagged around the moon were shifted gently away by a light breeze, allowing the clear white light to filter down on the gathering around the fire. Star had washed her bloody face with handfuls of cool ocean water earlier and her skin now gleamed like a pearl, surrounded by the dark ink of her loose hair. Her large, almond shaped eyes were expectant, glittering like the bangles at her wrists.     

                'Deal,' David agreed, rubbing a finger along his top lip as he transferred the barely there weight of Star from one knee to the other, cradling her against his chest.

                'Alright,' Paul practically whispered enthusiastically, punching the air and earning himself a dark glare from David. Marko snickered and launched a beer to Paul, who caught it deftly and snapped it open. Dwayne passed one to David and Star before opening a can for himself.

                'Don't you guys ever get drunk?' Star asked, feeling light headed from the beer she'd had earlier, but taking a drink anyway.

                'Alcohol has no effect on us. We don't need to drink or eat food to survive like you do, but we enjoy it,' David informed her.

                'So don't try and out drink us,' Paul laughed, holding his beer up to 'cheers' Star and then drinking deeply.

                'So come on, David, spill it man. We're all listening.' Marko sprawled himself out on the sand, the orange flames of the fire flickering blue and green every now and then as the salt from the driftwood burnt away.

                'The year was 1898, I was sixteen. My father was a good for nothing, gambling drunk who spent what little he could earn as soon as he'd been paid it. He was always angry about something – usually because he'd spent out his last dime and had nothing more to drink. He always laying in to my mother and us – my brothers and me - knocking us about.' Star's eyes were soft as she lay a hand gently on his chest, feeling something stir inside at this sudden insight into David's past. She knew what it was like to suffer at the hands of someone you loved.

'We got by as best we could by any means. Beg, borrow, steal, we weren't proud. There was very little work around and Santa Carla wasn't what you'd call a real holiday destination back then. But my father taught me well. I could fight my way out of any situation, never got my pretty face bloody and to be honest, I loved the thrill of feeling my knuckles crack against a jaw. The pain that blossomed in my own hand made me feel real, alive.' David's eyes were black and hollow at the memory, the smallest smirk tugging at his lips.

'I had a short fuse, inherited from my father, and a wickedly accurate and fast right hook. Pretty soon I had a reputation around the pier, fighting for money to begin with. Unbeaten by the challengers I had, I got cocky. Fighting for money wasn't enough and I'd learned to think that the world owed me something, for giving me such a shit beginning in life. So I began to take what I wanted when I wanted it. Money, girls. If I liked the look of it then it was mine.