The wind off the ocean had calmed, so the night wasn’t as cold as expected. He stalked along the rough shore, occasionally stumbling over a large rock mixed with the coarse sand and rounded pebbles of the beach. The moon cast a feeble light on the land, but it was instinct that led him to an alcove hidden among the boulders at the base of the cliff. Folding his legs under him, he settled on a rise of sand that formed a bench under the rocky indentation and buried his face in his hands. He and his siblings had played at being pirates and sea captains in this alcove. He’d made love to Maya here. Darkness overtook him, that desperation of the soul that had been his companion for most of his life. Since his twin had died under the wheels of a car. A shudder ran through him, as hot and painful as the bullet that had sliced through his hip. “Drake, we’re not supposed to go out on the highway,” Michael called. Drake pedaled his bike up the hill that overlooked the main road. “Come on.
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