Our Love, Our Mutual Destruction

ks Ferguson, returned to Seattle. The first thing

blow. With a vicious smile, she cornered me and

nvertible-twice. I woke up in the hospital, coughi

e cameras, "I' m going to enjoy bre

accelerated by his cruelt

the hospital to call him. My final revenge wasn't to fight him. It

pte

lia

scarred. We were each other' s greatest love and greatest source of pain. We' d finally called a truce

ng he did was set

l, declaring my record store, "The Groove," a historical hazar

ust smash the windows; they shattered the display cases, snapped vintage vinyl

brute with a smug grin, and I broke his nose wi

loor. "He said you'd d

le in a suit that cost more than my entire inventory. He tossed a check at my feet

t pick

, a cruel smile playing on his lip

et end. But the fire in me, the one he always loved to s

had already told me t

ellow glow on everything. I leaned against the cool wall, the paper cup of w

2. Dahlia Jarv

know. The scans are just... covered.

nagged in the air, sharp and clear. "No fam

ng to cla

iece of paperwork in a life about to be stamped 'closed'. I looked down at my phone, my

ssed

econd ring, his voic

"Brooks," I said, my own voice sounding

liste

words tasting like ash, "I

nted for The Groove. It was smaller, cleaner, and had none of the soul of the old place. I wiped down

ume low. A local news anchor was gushing a

s back in his hometown with a bang, announcing

ess conference, looking every

umbrella. She was flawless, her trench coat immaculate, her blonde hair styled

s of records. "This place is amazing. I' m looking fo

ime friend and business partner. He looked older, wearier. His eyes met mine for a f

this kind of music. He told me to pick out something special for tonight." She tur

o book the whole place. Just for a few hours. B

g beast, seemed to stir with agitation. It was getting worse. I could feel it, a constant, dull ache that no amount of pain medication could comp

ttering, was directing Carlo. "Can you help me move this table? I want

w the history. He' d seen the screaming matches, the b

era zoomed in on his face. I saw the faint,

fight about something I couldn't even recall now. It was one

en beneath my sweater. A souvenir from him, a shove against a sharp table corner t

mors you're back in Seattle not just for business. Is t

only flame I'm interested in is a new one."

o, her eyes shining. "Did you hear that? He's so sweet." She turned her gaze to me, a hint

head. His expression was a mix

time. Grace gasped and ran to the door, her f

she reached up to kiss him. He kissed her back, but I saw it-a fra

moment, the city, the rain, and the bubbly blonde fiancée all disappear

r back. He deepened the kiss, his eyes still fixed on mine, a blatant ac

way, my hands methodically wiping do

low murmur. "Dahlia... just... don't.

arlo?" I asked

e said, struggling for the right word. "She's

ent kind of girl, one with tangled hair and paint-stained fingers, scre

Grace finally stepped inside, bringi

hum of the café, dripping with condescension. "Wh

I felt the familiar, toxic pull of his gravity. T

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