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Chapters (43)
  1. HUNTER SHEA
  2. For Tim Stanton.
  3. ‘Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.’
  4. ‘How can I be substantial if I do not cast a shadow? I must have a dark side also if I am to be whole.’
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Afterword
  42. About this book
  43. FLAME TREE PRESS

Despite its incredible crassness, Andrew couldn’t help laughing. Nikki giggled between sips of wine. Ryker just shook his head.

“Wow. I didn’t see that coming,” Ryker said. “Though, being your husband, I should have known it would be disgusting.”

“You Americans are so sensitive. And people think it’s the Brits with a stick up our asses.” She nodded at the soda cans in front of them. “Plus, you’re lightweights.”

“Yes, but a wimpy American with a normal sense of humor stole your heart, now didn’t he?” Ryker said.

She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. “I’m not the first thing you American gits have stolen from the greatest nation on earth.”

“And I’m not giving you back.”

Nikki got up and hustled into the kitchen, wineglass in hand. “Let me check on dinner. Should be ready soon.”

Pasta was boiling away, a pot of tomato sauce beside it. Nikki said she made an amazing spaghetti sauce. Andrew’s stomach rumbled. He’d skipped breakfast and lunch, his mind lost in worry. The smell of Nikki’s cooking had him ravenous.

He looked to Ryker, who was preoccupied with watching his wife stir the sauce, a small smile on his lips.

They were so happy, so alive.

He and Kate had been just like them what seemed a long, long time ago. Yes, they still loved each other very much. But were they happy? There were moments of happiness. It was hard to be cheerful when there was always something ready to piss in your picnic basket.

Watching Ryker and Nikki made him wistful, and Andrew was not prone to wistful thoughts. It made the weight of so many missed years that much heavier.

Anxious to derail his musings, Andrew blurted out, “What gets louder as it gets smaller?”

Nikki turned, one eyebrow arched. “No idea.”

“A baby in a trash compactor.”

Nikki spurted her wine onto the counter. Ryker even laughed.

“There’s hope for you yet,” Nikki said.

As she was wiping up the wine with a paper towel, she saw the small radio tucked next to the sugar bowl on the counter. “You think it’s okay if I find some tunes as long as I keep it low?”