Wreck (Sphere of Irony 4)
Mitch’s steel gray eyes flash with fury. “That’s because you’re a self-centered asshole.” He grips my shirt tighter, pulling me forward only to thump my head and shoulders back into the wall.
“Fuck, Hale! That fucking hurts, you dickhead!”
“You haven’t begun to hurt, Evans.” Mitch releases me and stalks away only to come right back to get in my face again. “I’m tired of watching Gavin all torn up over your shitty behavior. Tired of seeing the stress on his face, eating him up from the inside.”
“I don’t know—”
Mitch pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and shoves it at my chest. His fist drives into my sternum, hard. “Ow!” The livid expression on Mitch’s face has me stifling any further complaints. I unfold the crumpled paper to see what has him so fired up.
Oh crap.
Tired—my legs sore, my back sore, my hands sore—I slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor, staring at the article Mitch printed from some gossip website.
Hawke Evans- Still Living on the Edge
Everyone knows that Evans, drummer for the Grammy-winning Sphere of Irony, enjoys a good adrenaline rush. In the past, he’s been spotted skydiving, heli-skiing, and mountain biking near his home in Boulder, Colorado, as well as partaking in other risky activities all around the world. Nothing, however, compares to the real-life danger involved in his latest pursuit—solo free climbing at Joshua Tree National Park in Southern California.
We have exclusive photographs of Evans scaling the side of a large cliff without the use of ropes or safety devices, also known as free soloing. Using only his hands and feet, Evans ascended a boulder which, to the naked eye, appeared to be multiple stories off the ground. Upon checking with park rangers after Evans completed his climb, we found out the rock formation towers almost twenty stories, or two hundred feet, in the air. All of this done without ropes or safety devices of any kind.
What will this relentless adrenaline junky attempt next? Will he end up hospitalized as he was during Irony’s first tour after an off-road motorcycle accident? We’ll keep watching this high-flying risk-taker to keep you informed.
“Oh my god.” The paper falls from my hands and I hang my head.
“Yeah, oh my god,” Mitch says sarcastically. “Get your shit together, Evans. I refuse to watch the man I love continue to go through hell because of you.”
I tilt my head back to meet Mitch’s cold stare. “I-I will.” My chest constricts and I nearly break down.
Mitch sighs, his gray eyes softening. He crouches down next to me and puts a reassuring hand on my leg. “Hey. It’s not easy, I get it. We all have a history that seems impossible to overcome. I can tell you from personal experience that it’s hard work, but not impossible.”
Mitch pats my leg one last time before getting up and letting himself out.
I have no idea how long I sit on the floor. Long enough for my ass to go numb and my feet to get cold. Long enough to realize that Mitch is absolutely right about me. I’m selfish, so wrapped up in my own misery that I can’t see past it to recognize the wreckage I leave in my wake.
I think about yesterday, when I reached the pinnacle of the huge granite boulder. The day was beautiful, the sun shining without a cloud in the open sky. My chest was heaving from exertion and my limbs ached, but I felt alive. I stood at the edge of the cliff and closed my eyes, wondering how it would feel to swan dive off the rock. Would the thrill of the fall prevent me from feeling any pain when I hit the bottom?
Eventually, I backed away from the edge to lie down on the flat surface. The sun heated up my skin and I cleared my mind of all thoughts, letting the moment take over. I felt…peace. For that brief period in time, I was content, almost happy. It was only when I heard the voices of other climbers scaling the opposite side of the boulder that I got up and rappelled down.
Can I find that kind of contentment without the danger? Can I find it with Abby without dragging her down?
I have to find it somewhere, or I’ll wreck everyone I know before swan-diving headfirst off a cliff.
Abby
My pulse races through my veins as I knock firmly on the door. The fast, nervous rhythm of my heart falters when it opens.
“Abby.” Hawke says my name as if it were something physical he could cling to, whisper in times of need. Like a life preserver tossed his way right before drowning.
Somehow, my legs carry me inside the modern space even though my mind and heart are screaming at me to run away. Anything to keep me from going through with my reason for being here.
“I’m so glad you called,” he says, hesitating a fraction of a second before engulfing me in his arms, surrounding me with his scent. I sigh, allowing myself this tiny piece of happiness, giving Hawke this moment of peace. Because it’s all about to end.
Hawke buries his nose in my hair and inhales, squeezing me tighter. I have to choke down a sob. As I wind my arms around his waist and hold onto him, my soul splinters into thousands of tiny fragments. I turn my head to rest my ear on his broad chest—a chest I’ve touched and kissed so many times I couldn’t possibly count them all—and listen to the steady beat of his heart.
“Hawke.” I pull back and reluctantly, he releases me.
“Do you want something to drink?”
I avert my gaze, unable to look at those beautiful eyes. “No, I’m okay. Can we sit?”