Free Until We Burn by Courtney Cole

brother rescued
her.  Or some shit.”
    Sin rolls his eyes, but I elbow
him.  “It’s probably the girl from the pool.  You’d better talk to
her and autograph her tits or something.  You need to keep her happy so
that she doesn’t think to call the police.  You don’t want that kind of
press, dude.  Not after Amsterdam.”
    The mere mention of how the
tabloids had ripped Sin’s band up over a wild party in Amsterdam a month ago is
enough to sober the two of them up.  There had been some underage girls
there, groupies who had lied about their age and if it wasn’t for the more lax
laws in Europe, my brothers would’ve been screwed. 
    Sin nods now.
    “Fine. Take me to her,” he
tells Duncan. To me, he hands the bottle of whiskey and says, “Do you ever get
tired of being right?  Jesus Christ.”
    “Not yet,” I tell him as I gulp
down a few swigs, then slide down into the sofa again, closing my eyes. 
“It’s a burden though.”
    My brothers chuckle as they walk out and I relax, enjoying the way the whiskey has relaxed
my muscles, the way the warmth has spread to every bit of me.  It helps me
stay numb… and numbness is a welcome fucking thing.   
    When I’m numb, I feel safe enough
to slip my hand into my pocket.  Not for my dick, although that’s normal
for me, too.  No, I wrap my fingers around the cool stone of the pendant
that is always there, encased in a white shell and resting against my leg.
    The last thing that fills my
mind before I sleep is a color.
    Aquamarine.