Sample from my new short story, Bus Stop

The wind blows right through you late at night in the desert. It was especially bad when you had to sit on a cold metal bench at a bus stop with no barriers to block the damn breeze. I could always feel my bones chilled back then, on nights that I had no business being out. I’d go back to just being cold physically. You can do something about that. You can get warm again. I’ll never feel warmth ever again.
I was looking for revenge that night. Revenge over something that most sensible people would have let roll off their backs. But just like I had no buffer from the cold wind, I also had no sense.
He’d called my girl the C word. Yes, that one. This was after she’d denied Scott Harmony’s advances. The first offense got you beaten where I came from, and the second got…