brian kirk

Will Haunt You

FLAME TREE PRESS

London & New York

I read a book much like the one you’re holding now. And this is what happened to me. Don’t make the same mistake. Please, put it down. Or better yet, throw it away. This is your last warning. Turn the page, and you’re on your own. Actually, that’s not true. Turn the page and he’ll be there, watching you.

Chapter One

Chapter One

The book was the last thing on my mind when I got to the gig that night. Though something should have triggered my memory when I saw Solomon. The burn mark creeping up through the collar on his neck. That goddamn glint in his eye.

“Jesse, my man!” he hollered when he saw me enter the hazy room. Solomon’s a dour asshole, not the jolly chum welcoming me like some hero returning from war. “How you been?”

We clasped hands, exchanged an awkward hug. He was hot. That could have been another clue. His chest and back were radiating like he was running a high-grade fever, but I blamed it on the summer heat. Nervous excitement before the show.

Caspian was already at the bar, downing what appeared to be his third shot of Jameson. Two dead soldiers were sprawled on the bar in front of him and I knew what that meant, the kind of night it prophesized. Caspian with a bottle of whiskey was more ominous than a clown in a dark alley. And the flashbacks it produced almost made me turn and walk back out the door.

Not that leaving would have mattered. I was screwed no matter what I did next.

The little reunion was brief. We hadn’t played together in a decade but we’d all kept in touch. Caspian still tooled around – had a sycophant fan base that followed him wherever he went. Solomon had gone in with a merchandise company, selling concert shirts and bumper stickers and other crap tchotchkes. Kevin’s been working as a sound engineer at a reputable studio, making decent money from what I understand.

I’ve been…well, I’ll get to that, I guess.

I’d arrived just before the show was supposed to start in order to avoid the pre-game festivities. The temptation was still too strong. I know my limits and avoidance is the best way for me to stay clean. Not that the Full Moon Saloon has a backstage green room where the heavy stuff goes down. But, still. One slip-up and I could kiss the last seven years goodbye. Why take the chance?