Chapter 10
Remi
The mirror shatters, revealing a loathsome face;
Still I breathe, though breathing tastes like ash.
A man of anger, soldered out of dust,
Who dares to seek a gentler place.
As I watched Amir hit the ball, I took a long drink of my coffee. From what I’d seen in the past few days, he was a good batter.
Third baseman sounded like a boring position to me. Pitcher or catcher seemed ideal, but there would also be a horrible amount of pressure there. I didn’t think he’d like the expectations being so high, not that I really knew what he liked.
We’d been going back and forth asking each other questions, but it was all with a goal in mind.
This ‘relationship’ had to be believable, because for some reason, he was obsessed with the idea of his reputation being squeaky clean.
It was fun while we were out with people, but as soon as we were back at the apartment, it became stuffy.
The questions were clinical and our interactions had no substance.
At least the rental was nice as hell. It was the definition of upscale, and Amir moved around it as if there was nothing unusual about being surrounded by opulence.
He could’ve saved a whole lot of money by getting a motel while he was in Florida, but what did I know?
I probably would’ve slept in the car and showered at the gym.
Pulling out my phone, I Googled him, not for the first time.
I hadn’t wanted to dive into the nitty gritty, but I was too curious not to.
He was in his sixth MLB season. His salary had jumped massively this year, to a number I couldn’t fathom.
Though he wasn’t a huge star like Trav, he had a good position, despite my opinion about it.
It was his batting record that put him a cut above the rest.
I glanced up and watched him sprint from third to home.
He was a damn rocket, and after he slid across the plate, he rolled onto his back and laughed.
Another player grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
After the hours of practice, he was filthy.
The guys had become more raucous throughout their drills, and they were hardly sticking to any structure.
I hadn’t expected how familial they would be. They were competitive, but they also played around, joked, and teased each other.
He dives like he’s got worth to prove,
And dust applauds his every move.
I watch, too jaded to confess—
I’d trade my bar for half that mess.
I leaned back against the railing and continued to drink my coffee. The sugar went straight to the space where my soul should’ve been, and I imagined it like a spark that made me resemble something human.
Maybe not to Amir. He was annoyed by me more often than not, which was the way I wanted it.
“You ready to go?” he said from the field behind me.
I didn’t turn. “Just waiting on you.”
His footsteps faded, and not wanting to wait around in the stands, I headed for the parking lot.
Some of the guys left without showering first, but Amir had more class than that.
His car back in Connecticut was spotless, which should’ve been the natural way to exist in something so expensive, but clearly, not everybody agreed.
I imagined his house was exactly the same.
It was probably swathed in gold and emeralds.
I lifted myself onto the hood of the car and lay back, letting the sunshine bathe my skin in much-needed vitamin D. It wasn’t hot at this time of year, but it was warmer than New Haven. I’d probably even brave the ocean at some point.
“They’ve got some big insects out here,” Amir noted. “I might have a hard time scrubbing you off.”
I turned to smirk at him. “I’m an easy guy to scrub off.”
His nose wrinkled. Without saying anything else, he unlocked the car and sat down. If I stayed here, I wondered if he would start driving. I wanted to make a bet about how long I could keep myself from flying off the hood. It sounded like a very Florida Man thing to do.
He honked, and I jumped. While I walked to my door, I fixed him with a glare. As had been customary since we got to this state, he seemed torn between amusement and exasperation.
I shut the door behind me and leaned my seat all the way back.
“You tired?” he asked.
“Nah.”
“I’ve been dragging you out of the apartment early every day. You’re used to night shifts, right?”
“Sure am.”
“Must be hard to adjust.”
I stared out the window and watched the buildings go by.
“I hear you walking around at night,” he said when I didn’t respond.
“Cool story. I suggest headphones.”
“Or you could just sleep.”
I made a thoughtful sound. “Or not.”
“Maybe you’ll tell me why.”
Stretching my fingers, I considered how to answer. “My gun’s at home.”
He laughed, as if it was a joke. “Good thing we’re in a secure building, huh? No burglars.”
“Right.”
If only I was concerned about a burglar. There were worse things people liked to steal. Things that could never be recovered.
When he parked in the garage, I jumped out of the car and used my keycard on the elevator. It was already closing when he made it. I leaned back and lifted a brow as he shoved his hand between the doors to make them open again.
“Have you heard of manners?” he grumbled.
“Is that one of the assigned questions?”
“No.”
I dipped my head without answering. When we reached our floor, I stepped out before him and made it to the door first. I was nearly to my room when he grabbed my arm to stop me. Like the last time he’d done it, I shoved him backward.
“Don’t touch me.”
“What’s your deal today?” he asked. “You’re being an ass.”
“Aren’t I always?”
He threw his arms in the air. “I don’t know. I’m never sure who I’m getting when I talk to you.”
“Then don’t talk to me.”
I slammed the door behind me and headed for the bathroom. Curling my fingers over the counter edge, I took a breath.
I wasn’t one to lie, except by omission, but the truth was that exhaustion was catching up with me.
I hadn’t realized they would practice every day, even on the weekend, and the caffeine could only do so much when I had barely slept in days.
Ever since I hit double digits, I hadn’t slept without a weapon.
Call it childish or paranoid; I had severely underestimated how it would affect me.
It was like having no nightlight while plagued by a fear of the dark.
When I became aware of someone in the room, I slowly turned around. Amir was looking down at the notebook on my bed while he touched the edge of the paper.
“You like poetry?” I asked.
He looked at me, clearly not ashamed of sticking his nose where it wasn’t invited. He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the book. “So, you’re tired.”
“I told you I’m not.”
“‘The night is deep, yet deeper still the dread, where dreams may rise like phantoms from the dead. The hush of dark unseals the voiceless scream; a shadowed gate that guards the hollow dream.’”
“It’s called symbolic imagery. Interpret it as you will.”
There was a smile on his face as he flipped through the notebook.
I stood in the doorway and crossed my arms. “You know it’s rude to snoop, right?”
“Stop me, then.” When I didn’t, his lips quirked again, but he kept his head down as he read through more of the words. “What’s your favorite?”
“I don’t have favorites.”
“Why not?”
“Because my moods change too fast to favor anything for long.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
He went to a page I recognized, and I snatched the book from him. My heart raced as I held it closed against my stomach.
His eyes were on me, making my skin feel like it was no longer a part of me. Clearing my throat, I opened it again but flipped to a different page before I passed it back.
“‘Your breath still lingers, heat upon my skin,’” he recited.
“‘A fevered hymn where sin and worship din. Each shuddered gasp, a prayer I dared to taste; a holy ruin, carved in aching haste. The night became a chalice, dark and sweet; spilled fire burning where our bodies meet.’” His eyes flicked up to mine, then back to the page.
“‘If lust is death, then let me gladly fall; on the reaper’s lips, I’d gamble life and all. ’”
I watched a bird land on the balcony outside of my room. It strutted across the railing, then took off again. I thought about what that’d be like, to take flight whenever I felt like it. To go anywhere. See the world.
“Why are you staring at me?” I asked.
“I’m not.”
When I looked at him, my mouth curved from the way he focused on the page. “You were.”
“Prove it.”
I ran my tongue across my lower lip. His eyes returned to me, and I saw the same fire burning in them that I’d witnessed at my bar—restrained, just like he had been until he’d given up.
As I sat next to him, I tucked my leg underneath me. My thumb brushed across his mouth, which made him freeze.
“On the reaper’s lips, I’d gamble life and all,” I murmured.
He pushed my hand away from his face. “Don’t do that.”
“We’re stuck in this place together,” I said as I leaned back on my palms. “Might as well make it enjoyable.”
“Enjoyable is a stretch with people like you.”
“Tell me what you know about people like me, baby.”
“I know you immediately tried to exploit me when the opportunity arose.”
“That makes me a bad person, I assume?”
He stood and gave me an incredulous look. “You’re not stupid. In fact, I’m starting to believe you’re quite the opposite. So, what do you think?”
“I think you don’t know anything about me. Besides my favorite color, where I was born, what I do for a living, and a bunch of arbitrary information you can recite to dig yourself out of some perceived hole. You don’t even know if those things I said are true.”
“Are they?”
I lifted one shoulder. “You’re using me as much as I’m using you.”
“At least my reasons aren’t as selfish as yours.”
“Oh?”
“You find out I have money, so you look for ways to get something out of me. I hope the nice little vacation is everything you dreamed of.”
Before he could leave the room, I came up behind him. I wrapped an arm around his chest and brought my lips to his ear. “Vacation? All I’ve done is let you parade me around like a trophy.”
He pried my arm off of him and put some distance between us. “You chose to come to practices.”
“Yeah, because you want to paint this pretty picture of your life, but you’re not putting in the effort to convince anyone. I wonder why that is.” Cocking my head, I met his eyes. “Are you scared that being around me will crack that armor you’ve worn since our night together?”
“You always think I’m afraid of something. Projecting?”
“I fear nothing.”
“Mm. I think that’s the biggest lie you’ve told.”
A genuine laugh escaped me, and his confident expression faltered. “The only monsters we have to fear are ones we believe we can’t fight. So, no, I’m not afraid of a single thing.”
“Then, why do you have a gun?”
“To fight them, obviously.”
“And without the gun, you can’t sleep, so what sort of monsters visit you at night?”
My lips parted as I tried to think of a response.
He’d trapped me in that revelation, and it was clear that he knew it. Already, I could see the little bits of information stitch themselves together in his mind. If he thought he could assemble a few pieces of me and somehow form a complete puzzle, he was too idealistic.
“‘Let a man never stir on his road a step without his weapons of war,’” I quoted.
“Is that why you cover the mirror too?” He nodded toward the bathroom. “If you look at yourself, will you see a monster you want to fight?”
I hummed like I was thinking about it as I slowly bobbed my head. “If you want to hurt my feelings, you’ll have to try harder than that.”
“I’m just returning the energy you’re giving me.”
“My reaction to something isn’t dependent on the intention of your words.”
He seemed to contemplate that, but I didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say.
When I started to close the door, he got the hint and stepped backward.
I turned the lock, then returned to the bathroom.
While Amir’s words replayed in my mind, the black sheet over the mirror taunted me, so I flicked the corner of it and let it fall.
My heart beat faster as I stared at my reflection. I took in the brown eyes that stared back at me. I thought they’d darkened over the years, as if they could take on the things they’d seen. Like my soul, they’d become tarnished, and I wondered if they would eventually abandon me like it had.
There was no smile in the glass, but I still saw it in my mind.
A taunt. An image burned into me so deep that nothing could drown it—not booze, drugs, or anything of this world.
I saw it reflected back at me, over and over again, just as I’d seen it in someone else’s, back when I thought revenge would taste like absolution.
It turned out it was smoke on my tongue.
The lesson was supposed to feel like victory, but all it left behind was silence, because even winning feels empty when the fight is all you are.
Funny how triumph rotted quicker than failure.
My arm swung, but my fist stopped before it hit the glass. I flattened my palm against the mirror while I recalled the words of a dozen people who had wanted to help me. In the end, Oli’s had been the ones that stuck more than the lessons I’d paid a bunch of professionals for.
Every breath is proof you still want to fight. This world isn’t done with you yet, and neither am I. So breathe. Just breathe.
Breathe.
Just fucking breathe.