Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The heart is an artist that paints over what profoundly disturbs it, leaving on the canvas a less dark, less sharp version of the truth.
— Dean Koontz, Forever Odd
prologue
I stare at him.
I always stare at him. I always sit down in front of my jammed window, and stare down at him while he works on his motorcycles.
They call him Ghost now. But I knew him before he was Ghost. I knew him when he was Toby, and I knew him when he was Tobias.
I knew him before he became angry.
I moved into the house beside Toby's when I was four years old. He was so different back then, so careless. But maybe that was just the natural innocence of a young boy.
He was no boy now. He was a man, such an angry young man.
I saw him on his worst days, because I was always watching. He would come home late at night, drunk out of his mind. I would watch him stagger as he struggled to make his way up the driveway.
I watched him come home with scars and bruises scattered across his body and come out just the same way.
I watched him sit on his motorcycle and inhale the toxic smoke of a cigarette.
I watched him.
But what I didn't know was that he watched me back...
__
This book contains suicidal thoughts or actions, offensive language, sexual themes between two males, and overall mature content. Please refrain from reading if anything listed above makes you uncomfortable. This book is also copyrighted, and no part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. 'The Art of Gravity' including all books, chapters, prologues, epilogues, and associated content is copyrighted. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Any infringement of copyright is punishable by law.
