Wreck Your Heart

Intro

Outside, the sirens drew closer, wailing up into a scream, then grinding back down, guttural and urgent. Lemondrop pricked her ears, then threw back her head and let loose a long, howling note. A mournful tune, but then a man was dead. Another man.

At least one.

I dragged myself over to the window bay, my blood-smeared hand to the glass, and gazed down at the street. Fire trucks, an ambo or two. Police, holding back the people who had gathered to watch.

Everyone loved a show.

Then someone below shrieked and pointed, and I pulled back.

They would tell their friends. They’d sit at McPhee’s Tavern—if the pub could survive this, if any of us survived this—and drink our beer and say, I was there, I was there that day, and I swear to you, it’s all true.