I became a real monster to live with after that day. I didn't just bust my brothers' balls when they attempted to speak to me; I cut them off and stomped on them. I got fired from my job for getting too rough with the drunks, so I started selling dope to cover the bills while I looked for another position at some other bar.

I probably wanted her back. I had no problem leaving people, but I couldn't stand it when anyone left me. Tonia never got mad at me. She never took anything I said personally, and she gave me my space when I needed it. I'd never pushed her to the point where she'd stormed out of the house in tears and slammed the door behind her in farewell.

I probably wanted her back—and I was probably scared to death she wouldn't have me. Not that anyone could've told me that, because I would've bitten their head off for it. Sure I was pissed. I could've happily lived out my life without ever knowing the intimate details of Tonia's female troubles. After all the shit I'd been through I couldn't believe how upset she'd gotten over a few miscarriages. Worse things could happen in life than the inability to have children. Out of all the people I'd ever met, I thought Tonia would've known that.

I felt like I hardly knew her anymore, and I think that bothered me the most.

I can't argue with anyone who calls me 'unstable.' I know I am. I fluctuate from happy-go-lucky to murderous-rage in about two seconds, and it takes more of a toll on me than anyone will ever know. My anger can become blinding, and all-consuming—but it's not the only emotion I'm capable of feeling. I never needed drugs to get high, because every success and achievement I ever experienced put me into the stratosphere. I experimented with pot and some coke in my teens, and it felt good, but the natural highs that came with hockey, winning fights, making love to Tonia—they seemed better somehow. I had to work to feel that good. I didn't just snort a line, or smoke a joint—I struggled, and I won.

Ma always said that could be my strength, if I wanted it to be. She knew my anger was a cover, to keep the world from seeing how deeply I could feel pain, and loss. At least it was when I was young. At some point my fear of getting hurt by other people did turn to rage, and that led to all kinds of interesting predicaments over the years.

Everywhere I've ever gone in my life, I've developed a reputation. People know me as a crazy fuck, a dude who shouldn't be messed with. That doesn't mean I win every fight I get into; it just means I win big when I win, and I lose small when I lose.

Not that my luck always holds out.

Anyone who stays in the game long enough takes their shots.

Everyone.

A creepy chill went down my spine when I walked in the front doors of my old high school. I'd graduated four or five years before, so I'd almost forgotten how shitty it felt to walk down those halls.

Ma always said she would've home-schooled me if she could've afforded it. She thought that would've kept me out of trouble, given me the sense of freedom and flexibility I needed.

My feet took me straight toward the principal's office without conscious direction from my brain. Just before rounding the corner, I heard my little brothers' voices.

"So, seriously, Angel. Are we like, going to die for this or what?" Jack asked, his tone fast-paced and sarcastic. He sounded more like a teenager than the last time I'd come home.

It'd been over a year. I could hardly believe the kid was already fourteen.

"Would you shut up? You act like you never done nothin' in your life, man," Angel shot back, just as I walked around the corner.

"Me? You're the one acting like..." Jack cut off when he realized why Angel's eyes had gone wide.

The two of them sat on each end of a bench just outside the office door. The second they recognized me, they started to stare, blinking once in stereo. I hazarded a guess that their shock didn't come from the mere sight of me. I had walked into the building decked out in a business suit with all the bells and whistles.

They'd never seen me looking so sharp.

"Hello, boys," I greeted, smiling like a shark as I reached up very deliberately to remove an expensive set of shades.

Angel turned to look at Jack, putting on his mimic-voice, "'Seriously, Angel. Are we gonna die?' We sure as fuck are now, smartass! You just had to fuckin' say it, didn't you? God heard you, and now look what happened!" he said, pointing to me.

I wasn't sure if I should be offended or heartened by the fact my younger brothers thought of me as an angel of death.

Jack scowled, reaching over to punch Angel on the shoulder. Ang walloped him right back. Jack cringed, grabbing his bony shoulder with the opposite hand. Then they both looked at me, scowling.

I didn't stop smirking for a second. "Hey, don't stop on my account. Please, continue to beat each other senseless," I invited, gesturing to the empty hallway to remind them no one else was around.

They rolled their eyes at me, in stereo.

I made a mental note to have a long conversation with Jerry about annoying teenaged brothers over a drink at the bar that evening. It seemed like the older we got the more we enjoyed getting together for a good laugh at Jack and Angel's expense.

The secretary was a heavy-set, middle-aged black woman. She paged the assistant principal to let him know I'd arrived to speak with him, and then gave me a through look, up and down.

"Mr. Seamore will see you now. Just make sure I'm sitting here when you go. Even if I could look at the high school boys going through here all day long, there just ain't nothin' to see—and I'd appreciate watching a real man walk through this office for once—especially from behind. You hear me, Bobby Mercer?" she said, raising one eyebrow at me. The woman was deathly serious.

I smiled; Jack and Angel scoffed behind me. "I'll see what I can do," I replied smugly.

"You do that," she said, reaching for the ringing phone and answering it without missing a beat.

The second Seamore saw me, he basically told me to get lost, and to take my brothers with me. He wouldn't even tell me what they'd done. Ma would have to call the school on Monday to get the details.

I didn't feel like waiting, so I made them take me to their lockers and open them up. I found a whole load of weed underneath all of Angel's unused text books.

They'd been selling and trading, and I could guess for who.