Afterlight (Fanfiction) ✓

chapter eight

Jay

     THE sun hung low in the sky, its rays slicing through the haze and landing directly in my eyes, blinding me for a moment. I squinted against the harsh light and looked up at the figure standing in front of me, an unwelcome reminder of a time long gone.

Dean Hill. My former best friend.

Everything had shifted the moment he moved to London, Canada. We used to be close friends, close enough that I'd drive hours just to hang out, to share a beer. But one mistake had shattered everything, leaving nothing but the cold silence between us.

"Piss off," I muttered, my jaw clenched tight, the tension running through me like a wire ready to snap.

Dean grinned, his smile almost too wide for comfort. "It's nice to see you too, best friend." His voice was dripping with false sweetness, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed him. "I miss you."

I didn't bother responding. I just tried to push past him, my boots heavy on the pavement as I moved forward. But Dean wasn't having it. He stepped into my path, blocking my way like some kind of immovable object. His gaze flicked up to the sky, then down to the ground, and finally back to me. A slow, mocking smile curled on the corner of his lips.

"Come on, Jay." His voice was almost playful, but there was an edge to it. He raised an eyebrow, challenging me, before letting it drop.

I shook my head, my patience thinning like thread. "Don't." I kept walking, brushing my shoulder against his as I moved past him.

But his voice followed me like a shadow. "It was your choice, you know." He called after me, his words laced with poison. "You should've stayed with us in London. I heard the guys in your brother's gang aren't treating you well. Looks like you're out of business now."

I paused, my steps faltering for a moment. I was supposed to be part of his crew, to fall in line with his plans. But I never saw myself as one of them. I was always more of a lone wolf—independent, untethered, not tied to anyone's demands.

"Stay with you guys?" I turned around slowly, the air thick with tension. My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "After everything that went down?" The memory hit me like a punch in the gut—months of betrayal and regret. "I don't need a backstabber shooting me again." I pointed to the spot on my torso where the bullet had once torn through, a permanent scar of our shattered friendship.

I let my hands fall to my sides, trying to keep my cool, trying to breathe. But the anger still simmered beneath the surface, just waiting to break free. I could feel it building in my chest, like fire.

"That's what you get for fucking my girlfriend, thinking I didn't know," Dean spat, his lip curling in disgust. "You think I didn't know?"

The words hit like a fist to my gut. That was the moment everything between us unraveled, the fragile thread of trust snapped by one simple act of betrayal. Laura Augustine. I had no idea she was with Dean, but when she came on to me at that party, I didn't hesitate. Of course, he caught us together, and everything fell apart after that. The bullet he shot into me didn't hurt as much as the realization that I had just ripped apart what was left of our brotherhood.

"All this over some girl," I muttered under my breath, my back turned to him now, but I could still hear the heat in his breaths, his footsteps drawing closer, preparing for the inevitable.

Dean swung at me, a wild, angry punch aimed at my face. But I was faster. I ducked under his arm and, with a fluid motion, landed a solid hit to his jaw. The crack of the punch echoed in the empty street, and I could feel the satisfaction of finally unleashing the anger I'd been holding in.