I don’t like to get rough with a woman, unless she’s bending over and begging me to. That’s just the way I operate. So when I get angry with that hot little number, it really affects me. The whole thing has got me thinking. What kind of a massive crush does this woman have?

Well, to me, it’s pretty damn clear. She wants to ride the storm. Plenty of women have been there. I just didn’t think it would happen this fast, in this city. I have to give a little chuckle when I think about it, even if she gets on my nerves. When I see her again, I bet she asks me out.

“Let’s see here,” I mumble to myself. I grab the bags and place them on my kitchen counter. She’s right in a way. I look like I’m staking out the end. In a way, I kind of am. When you have a whole gang of criminals after you, you tend to want to lay low. I don’t need to take long walks into the city if I have all I need here.

So, I get to putting everything away. Three bottles of whiskey are hardly enough, but it’ll last me the week at least. Batteries, rubbing alcohol, first aid kit, hunting knife, plenty of food and meat, coffee, toothbrush, toothpaste, and more. Believe me, this shit is hard to carry around, but it offers an okay workout.

Speaking of working out, when everything is put into place, I walk into the garage. Inside is the old gym Gabe and I made a lifetime ago. I start to remember all of the old times. It’s funny how the smell of a garage, or tint from the wallpaper, can throw you into a full-blown trip down memory lane. Every feeling comes back to me in this moment and a smile comes on my face.

Well, those were good times. He hates me now, but I wonder if he thinks back on those moments like I do. I wonder if he misses growing up. I sure as hell do. When Mom died, we only had each other.

Dad was there, of course. Correction, Jim was there. But he wasn’t exactly thrilled about raising us alone. You can say that he was an absent parent, but he was there when you didn’t want him to be. When you missed your homework, you got the belt. When you talked back, you got the belt. Basically, when you did anything that made him get off his ass, you got the damn belt.

“I’m going to show you right from wrong,” he used to say.

Sure. I grew up knowing right from wrong. I grew up knowing that he was the wrong in the world, and me and my brother were the right. I promised myself from that moment on, I’d carry the torch of goodness.

Now look at me. I look bad. I look wrong. All wrong. That woman let me know as much. She thinks I’m the face of sin itself. It’s hard not to question yourself when someone treats you like that. It’s enough to make your head spin.

I sigh and grab the barbells. I lift them, doing four sets. Up, down, up down, up down, twelve times each. When I’m finished, I head straight for the bottle. I grab that whiskey and I down a glassful, enough to make me feel much looser than before.

I walk out onto my porch and take a deep breath to calm myself. It’s that woman. I can’t stop thinking about her. She thinks I’m evil. She thinks I’m lower than the lowest. What did I ever do to her to make her say such cruel shit? Worst of all, she looks perfect, like a fucking angel.

I slam my fist into the door, but it only gives me pain and a dent in the wood. I’ll have to fix that in the morning.

I stumble back inside the place and grab one of the pictures from the walls. It’s my father, Gabe, and me at one of our school carnivals. “Shit, man,” I sigh. It makes me feel warm inside to remember it, but I also just wish I could teleport back, or time travel.

‘Cause right now, I’m feeling like shit. Right now, it feels like my life is over.

* * *

I wake up from someone pushing against my shoulder. “Let me sleep,” I say. I start to feel the gnawing claw of reality scratch at my face. There’s wood on my cheek. I open my eyes and realize I somehow passed out on my porch. “Fuck,” I sigh, blinking my eyes erratically.

“Um,” a light voice awkwardly tries to say something. “Are you okay?”

I look up and almost fall over with surprise. It’s that woman. Goddammit. “Shit,” I groan. “What do you want? What’re you doing out here? Come to bug me again? Come to rub dirt in my face?”

“Uh no, actually. I live a couple hundred feet down,” she says. “Are you, okay?” she repeats the question.

“I’m fine,” I stretch my body and sit shamefully against my front door.

“What happened to your door?” she asks.

“Nothing that concerns you,” I say.

“Have you, um, been getting transient break-ins too? Because my house was trashed when I drove in,” she says.

I shake my head. “No. There aren’t too many homeless around these parts,” I say. “Not everyone is bad and evil, you know.”

“Look,” she sighs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to help you out, but you look like you can take it from here.”

“Well, thanks,” I mutter.

“You know, you really shouldn’t pass out on your porch like that,” she says, driving the knife in deeper. “People are going to get the wrong impression.”

I stand up and wobble forward. She takes two steps back and laughs a little. I feel like a fucking clown. “What makes you think I care about what people think or say about me? This town is full of bullshit,” I tell her. “I grew up here. I should know.”

“I’m just saying… Look, I’m not judging you,” she says with an air of truth and honesty attached to her voice.

“Thanks,” I say, nodding. “Seriously.”

She presses her lips together in a faint smile and waves, as I walk back inside my place.

“What’s your name?” she says, just as I’m about to shut the door.

I turn and give a faint smile. “My name’s Soren.”

“Soren?” she laughs, but quickly covers her smile.

“Don’t start,” I warn her. “Today just isn’t my day.”

“No, I like it. Really, I do,” she says. “What does it mean?”

“My dad was drunk when he gave it to me. He probably read it in some book, so it’s meaningless,” I say. “But I read somewhere it means severe or God of War.”

“Well that’s a bit weird,” she says, laughing again.

“I said don’t start,” I mutter.

She rolls her eyes, but she stops laughing. “It’s nice to meet you, Soren. I’m Emma.” She smiles, looking as cute as a fucking button.

I nod and shut the door quietly and slump to the ground. She doesn’t know just how much is stacked against me right now. Her saying that she isn’t judging me is just about the only thing that’s giving me comfort right now.

I still think she’s a stuck-up city girl, but at least there’s one person trying to make things right.