You Distract Me

King

Greetings, my oh-so-loyal readers who I don't deserve. 

As usual, I have no excuses for my failure to update, just know that I've had better days. However I do hope you're all well and safe.

Just a caution. A tiny reason for not updating was because I was unsatisfied with the chapters I wrote and was stalling  in order to write more enjoyable chapters that could redeem the ones I don't like. But if I keep stalling, nothing will end up being updated and I just thought ''eh what the hell''. So excuse any inadequacies that may show throughout, I promise to deliver better as the book progresses.

Shayne

 "Shayne, you need to calm down."

"I'm fucking calm."

"No, you're not."

I lifted my eyes to Laura's, a nasty reply making its way to my tongue. The words barely got out before the glass in my hand cracked, a fraction of a second before it shattered into several pieces and fell to the floor, along with the scotch that had been in it.

"Shit." A long shallow cut ran along my palm, crimson blood mixed with bits of scotch already running down my wrist.

"So much for being fucking calm," Drew said, his brows raised.

Laura only let out a grunt and left the table. 

I swept my gaze around the diner, a little establishment we'd set up a couple of months ago to run some of our businesses under the radar. It was the first place that had come to mind when we'd gotten clear of any danger following us behind. The busy place had to be closed earlier than usual.

At the moment, we'd been cut down to twenty of us, about twenty-five percent of our initial number before the nukes. And half of that percentage, though exhibiting anguish, was slipping foul looks towards me.

"They're blaming you," Drew said, nursing the awkward bump on his head with a bag of ice.

"Really? I didn't realize," I bit back.

Laura came to kneel beside me with a couple of bandages and antiseptic. "They also know you're not grieving for the lives lost but for something, or rather, someone else."

I hissed at the sting of the antiseptic. "Isn't the scotch already doing the job?"

"It definitely is, but inflicting any kind of pain on you makes me feel better right now."

A bolt of resignation resonated in me. "If it helps, then please do as you please. I deserve it."

She paused and sighed, her body loosening. Much gentler, she finished wrapping the bandage around my hand and sat on the chair opposite mine.

"As much as we'd hate to admit it, most of us have nowhere to take the pain. You're going to have to do for now."

I pursed my lips, rolling my shoulders to relieve the invisible burden laying heavy on them. "It's only fair."

Laura frowned, waves of remorse and exhaustion rolling off of her. "What do you think they want with Olivia?"

For a moment, the sound of her name took my breath away. I hadn't laid my eyes on her for over six hours and I was slowly losing my grip, if at all my bleeding hand was any indication.

Drew shrugged beside me. "Doesn't make sense. Why try to kill her, multiples times, only to take her when they fail? If we're being logical, we'd be forced to think they took her so they could do the job properly this time."