Shattered: A Shade novella by Jeri Smith-Ready Read Free Book Online

‘Is that new? Whaur is it?’
    ‘Merchant
City.’
    Now
Frankie goes still. He knows what sort of clubs populate much of that section
of Glasgow.
    But
Graham blethers on. ‘Why can’t we come? Too posh a
place for yer old mates?’
    ‘Ye
wouldn’t like it,’ I snap. ‘It’s a gay club.’
    Everyone
goes totally silent. Then Graham says to Martin in an astonished whisper:
‘You?’ Martin nods, then glances at me, which makes Graham turn my way. ‘Not
you, too? I thought you’d a lass.’
    ‘I
do.’ At least, I hope so.
    For
several moments, the four of them look off in different directions, as if
suddenly fascinated by the water and ducks and trees. They look like band
members posing for an album cover.
    Finally
Graham clears his throat. ‘Frankie, gies a fag.’
    I
tense before remembering that here, fag means cigarette.
    Usually
Frankie won’t let go of his smokes. He’ll possessively hold out the packet to
let somebody take just one, then he’ll light it for him. But now he drops the packet
and the matches into Graham’s palm, coming nowhere close to touching his hand.
    Graham
lights the cigarette. ‘Well, that’s …’ He blows the smoke out hard and high,
then turns away without finishing the sentence.
    ‘We
could all play fitba the morrow,’ Martin suggests.
‘Weather’s supposed to be good.’
    ‘Let’s
do that,’ I say in a hurry. ‘Rain or shine.’
    The
others murmur noncommittally. In the brief lull, I check my phone again. No
message. My mind spins through a kaleidoscope of terrible fates that could’ve
befallen Aura.
    Niall
says to Martin, ‘Ye sure you’ve time fur us, mate?’ He emphasises the last word, mocking it. ‘Won’t yer new friends
want tae go see an art gallery, maybe take in an opera or two?’
    Martin’s
lip curls. ‘Ye know, they might. But I’ll be sure and tell them I’d rather slum
with you lot.’
    The
others recoil, which is odd. We spend most of our time taking the piss out of
one another. Insults are the currency of our camaraderie. But something’s
changed.
    Niall
snorts, his eyes full of hostility. ‘Go on, then, ya mad wee poof.’
    My
vision turns red. I drop my phone and lunge at Niall, shoving him against a
tree trunk. ‘What’d you call him?!’
    Before
he can answer, I punch him in the stomach, a hard left, then deliver a right
swing up under his chin. It feels good to hit something, so I keep doing it,
even as I’m dragged off onto my heels.
    ‘Fuck’s
sake, Zach!’ Graham pushes between us as Frankie pins my arms behind me.
    My
rage turns to panic. ‘Stop! Don’t touch me!’
    ‘Too
late for that,’ Frankie snarls.
    Niall
straightens up, coughing, then dabs the blood from his lips and glares at me.
‘Why don’t ye go out with yer girlfriend here
tonight? Leave us be.’
    He
walks away down the path, spitting blood onto the grass. Frankie and Graham
dump me on my arse , then follow him. None of them
looks back.
    Martin
glowers down at me, hands on his hips. ‘Why’d you do that?’
    ‘They
insulted you.’
    ‘It
would’ve passed. We would’ve been fine if you’d left it alone.’
    ‘I’m
not sorry.’
    He
comes over, holds out his hand to help me up. I ignore it and get to my feet on
my own.
    The
moment I’m standing, Martin punches me in the face.
    ‘ Augh !’ I stagger back, barely keeping upright. ‘What’s that
for?’
    ‘For
being my knight in shining fuckin ’ armor. I don’t
need one, and I don’t want one.’ He rubs his knuckles. ‘Also, that’s how ye punch a mate.’
    I
check my face for blood, but there’s none. Probably won’t even be a bruise. My
own knuckles are throbbing, though. ‘I wasn’t trying to hurt Niall.’
    ‘Well,
ye were trying tae hurt someone.’
    I
shake my head hard to dispel the image of DMP agents dragging Aura away. The
gesture sends an ache through my right cheekbone.
    I
retrieve my phone from where it fell. Not only does it still work, but there’s
a reply from Aura: