Chapter One Liam The sun is beginning to set on another typical day in Hartsborne when I park my Harley Davidson outside of a dingy bar called The Whistle. I like to think of myself as a man of refined tastes, but the truth is, I’ve spent so much of my life being angry that I find comfort in seedy places like this one. A place where it’s easy to get drunk and forget just how fucked up the world really is. I push open the old wooden door and step inside. The bar is dimly lit and smells of stale beer and cigarettes. I take a seat at the bar and order a shot of whiskey. “Tough day?” the bartender asks as he slides the drink across the counter toward me. “You don’t know the half of it,” I reply, throwing back the shot as if it’s water. “Want another?” “Keep ’em coming.” The bartender pours me another shot, which I take just as quickly as the first one. My mind wanders as I stare into space, replaying the events of the day. A young woman was found murdered in her apartment, and judging by the crime scene, it was likely a drug-related killing. A rival gang has moved into town and is trying to take over. We’ve done a pretty good job of keeping them at bay so far, but things are getting worse and there’s only so much I can do. I’ve put my life on the line for the people in this town more times than I can count, but sometimes it feels like it isn’t enough. Sometimes it feels like nothing is enough. I order another round of shots and continue to drink until I can no longer remember my own name. Only then do I get back on my bike and head home. The house I share with my two best friends is dark and quiet when I walk through the front door. I’m not surprised; Ethan and Jason are probably off somewhere fucking their latest conquests. I toss my keys onto the coffee table and head straight for the liquor cabinet. I pour myself a large glass of scotch and sit down on the couch, needing something to numb the pain. But no matter how much I drink, I can’t escape my demons. I’ve tried to move on from my past. I’ve tried to make something of myself, but deep down, I know that I’ll never be free from my demons. Some people say that time heals all wounds. But they’re wrong. The only thing that time does is give you more opportunities to fuck up. And boy have I fucked up. I’m not a good man. Far from it. But sometimes, late at night when I’m all alone, I start to think about what could have been. If only things had turned out differently… No. There’s no point in dwelling on what might have been. The past is in the past. All I can do is try to make things right in the future. If only it were that easy. I wake up hours later when I hear the front door open and close. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like sandpaper. I drag myself off the couch and shuffle into the kitchen for a glass of water. When I return to the living room, Ethan is standing in front of the coffee table with a disapproving look on his face. “Another rough day?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing home? It’s not even midnight yet,” I reply, ignoring his question. “The party got boring,” Ethan says, dropping down onto the couch next to me. “Where’s Jason?”