Kid
: Chapter 33

He leans back, a grin spreading across his shit face as the words sink into a place that activates the worst parts of me.

I throw a fist, catching his jaw as his head flips to the side, and he falls to the ground. I climb on top of him, a rage I’ve never known pulsing out of me as his words repeat themselves over and over again in my tortured mind.

Miss morbid.

Obsessed with death.

Slut.

How dare he talk about her like that to me or anyone for that matter. No one should know her secrets like I do. No one should ever use her own darkness against her. Her name should never cross his lips, ever again. Over and over, I lay fists into his body, until one catches me on the chin.

“FIGHT!” someone screams behind us.

We flip around in the hallway; he pushes me against the wall as I grab his shirt in my bloody fists, spinning him until I’m slamming him into the wall. He kicks my legs out from under me, pushing me onto my back on the floor with a thud.

“You don’t know who you’re fucking with, punk boy!” He hits me with his fist across my jaw.

“No! Kai!” Han screams out, attempting to pull me off him. “Hawke!”

“Your little fucking boyfriend can’t save you now,” he grumbles.

“Says the guy who sucks dicks for a living,” I spit out at him, earning another punch to the face.

I laugh as he hits me again. This fucker doesn’t realize I can’t feel shit right now. I’m numb, but I don’t know why. I literally took Adderall to not be numb.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” he asks, hitting me again, sending my face whipping to the right.

I see my blood spray across the wall next to me, splattering like some sort of messed up inkblot test. I wonder about the validity of this test, when all I can visualize is nothing but a frumpy-looking heart that appears broken in the middle. It’s so fitting. It makes me laugh even harder.

“Quit laughing!” he screams, getting upset by my reaction. “You fucking clown!”

I quickly clutch his shirt in my fists, pulling the stretched out material towards me, making him fall into me. “Let me let you in on a little secret,” I say, still smiling as I bring him closer to my blood-filled mouth. “There’s only one person who can hurt me, and it’s not you, you little bitch.”

I spit blood in his face before my limbs become jello and the intensity in which I was fighting seems to have faded. The adrenaline that was once a part of me, has dissipated, now leaving my body to fend for itself. Everything is becoming blurry. I’m slipping away. More hits, more yelling, more muffled screaming from Han behind me. It’s chaos, really, but I can’t seem to do anything about it.

She’s trying to pull him off me or punch him, but his stupid jock form is preventing that. Seconds later, I see a blurry robot break through the wild group of people, sending bodies flying. He rips Bran off me, throwing him into a wall before sending some nasty throws at him.

I wouldn’t want to be on the other side of that robot’s fist. He’s terrifying when he’s happy. How do I know this about him?

I open my eyes, which have apparently closed, and see Han in the back of a vehicle. She’s reaching out for me, her hands extended as if I’m miles away. Someone is carrying me beneath my armpits and my legs are dragging. I fall in, laying my heavy head on her soft lap. Her hands hold my skull, which feels like the weight of a bowling ball.

All I can focus on are the black flowers on her dress that I swear were purple at the beginning of the evening. They were purple. Purple flowers that have now turned black because of the blood dripping down from my mouth onto her dress.

She holds my head in her hands as she moves animatedly above me. She’s talking, but I can’t hear her. Why can’t I hear her? I move my eyes to see who she’s conversing with. It’s Hawke, sitting in the passenger seat. I can’t really make out their words, but I read their body language better than a five-hundred pound man reads a menu. He’s yelling at her and she’s yelling back.

Sid has joined in on the fun. Apparently, he’s driving us right now. I didn’t even know we were moving until I saw a light pass us like a rocket ship. He looks like Morgan Freeman from Driving Miss Daisy. His hands, firmly set on ten and two, and his white knuckled grip on the wheel, speak volumes. This car is full of tension.

“His head looks like an egg, man,” Sid says, peering in the rearview mirror.

“I am the eggman,” I sing from my position on Han’s lap, hoping the comedic relief removes some tension. “I am the Blobfish, goo goo, a’joob!”

I don’t know what they’re fighting about, but I feel like my little melody will solve all of our problems.

Hawke turns back to face me with a softer look in his eyes and different bright lights behind him now. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You sure you’re alright, man?”

He looks anxious, worried, and mostly stressed. I look around and see the car has stopped now, and I’m sitting with my head back against the seat. Han is gripping both of my hands tightly in hers. We are somewhere else entirely. Time just keeps slipping away from me. I don’t remember telling him I was alright, but I nod anyway. He leaves and we’re pulling away.

There’s a balloon attached to my face.

I sit up, touching the balloon that is my bottom lip. Something dry and crusty on it. Blood. I’m surrounded by darkness and blankets. I sit up and try to look around, but wherever I am is pitch black. Am I dead? No, I wouldn’t feel pain.

As soon as I realize my lip is indeed swollen, there’s a sharp ache in my left cheekbone. Like sprinkles of rain before a downpour, all these random parts of my body ignite with pain, my head being the worst of it.

“Kai,” her sweet voice floats to me in the darkness.

I feel whatever I’m sitting on move beneath me before a single light flicks on. I have to shield my eyes from the sun exploding in front of me. Everything is so white in here.

“Why though? Why was a black comforter not an option?”

“Semen,” she answers simply. “It shows.”

I laugh at her little attempt to joke, then groan as every part of me hurts.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she whispers.

She walks around to the other side of the bed in her breakfast briefs and tiny white tank top. She’s wearing breakfast briefs. Little dancing eggs and smiling toasts, hand in hand. My first thought is Kevin Bacon and Egg Ryan, starring in the new rom-com, “Meant to Fucking Be.”

“This.” She hands me a cluster of pills. “Take it now.”

I remember a time that feels like many chapters ago, where I popped a handful of pills and somehow ended up here, bloodied, confused, and in so much pain. Should I really take these? I don’t even know what they are.

“Fuck it,” I say to myself, grabbing the stack and throwing them back.

She gives me a glass of water sitting next to the nightstand, a setup that was clearly waiting for me. She was anticipating I’d wake up and need them, waiting for this. Waiting to take care of me. She took care of me.

“You care about me.” I groan, stating the fact before falling back into the white cloud that is her bed.

She lays down beside me, propped on an elbow as her face replaces mine. She blinks before shaking the hair out of her eyes, her hair that’s fluffed into the cutest little pile of mess on top of her head.

“I do,” she whispers, gazing at me nervously.

She slowly leans forward, eyes following a trail from my lips to my eyes again. She places her lips softly against mine, and the feeling stirs that need in me again. Pulling back, she quickly replaces the good feeling with a freezing cold ice pack against my lip.

“Shit!” I curse at the pain.

She did that on purpose.

“You scared me, Kai,” she whispers in a cracked tone. “I was so worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I reassure her. “I’m always fine.”

“What did you take?” she asks desperately.

“Just addys, coke, and beer. Must’ve just been tired or something. The mix got me? I don’t know.”

I groan again as she adjusts the pack.

“Kai, I’d never do anything to hurt you, you know that, right?” she asks with such need in her eyes.

She needs me to know. She needs me to feel it. But also, why go through with it? Why did she put herself in the position to get involved? I need more than this watered down bullshit. I need legitimate answers.

“I know,” I whisper, reaching up to touch her. “I know you wouldn’t. I just don’t understand.”

My hand cups her face as she leans into it, unease in her expression as I study her.

“I’ve been hanging out with Bran. Getting close to him,” she admits.

My injured jaw flexes at the name alone.

“Why would you do that, Han?”

She grabs my hand that was holding her face, dropping it down on my stomach. She stares at the back of it as her eyes see the damage I feel on my knuckles. Swallowing, she whispers, “Because I have to.”

I narrow my eyes at her, disliking that answer, but I sigh it off because I’m literally in too much pain to fight it. We sit in silence for a moment, my eyes on the ceiling, her eyes on me. Our minds must both be racing with questions.

“What’s the lamest superhero power you can think of?”

An eyebrow raises at her as I snort at the random question. Totally not what I thought she was thinking, but here we are. Old random Han is returning.

“Avocado detection radar.”

“Yessss.” She smiles, rolling onto her back beside me, our heads side by side, both of our faces looking towards the stark white ceiling.

“Bulletproof toenails.” I add.

“Epic.” She shakes her head in delight.

“How about the ability to jump into the future but only by one second, once a day?”

“LAME!!!” she shouts out, laughing again as I roll my head to the side to face her.

I study the profile of her face with the light shining behind her. Her little button nose that’s ever so slightly pointed up at the tip. The full, plump lips that sit on her face, almost crying to be kissed. Her long, dark eyelashes that flutter twice when she realizes she’s being watched.

“If I had one lame superhero power,” she says, biting the corner of her lip before turning to face me. “It’d be to have an invisible pancreas.”

My serious face cracks into a huge, laughing smile. I grab my stomach in pain as I attempt to stop laughing.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” I groan. “That’s the most useless one ever.”

Her head turns to me now, her smile radiating through me, making me forget where I am. Did I, in fact, get my ass beat tonight? No clue. But Han is smiling at me, so whatever it took to get here, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

We’re inches apart as she studies my face. I see her eyes trace over my busted lip, then beneath my left eye, where a bruise must be forming. The expression quickly fades into sadness as my appearance becomes nothing but an ugly reminder of whatever we went through tonight, the details still so vague.

“Why do you do that?” I ask softly.

I reach out with my hand, rubbing the little stress wrinkle that always appears between her eyebrows with my thumb, attempting to alleviate her worry.

Her eyebrows furrow, clearly not understanding my question.

“Why do you ask such random questions? To study people? To change the subject when the conversation becomes difficult?”

She purses her lips, thinking to herself, almost contemplating it like never before. Her eyes flutter up to replace mine again as a tiny smirk pulls at her lip.

“Guess it’s my lame superhero power,” she says softly, licking her thumb before wiping it across my eyebrow.

She shows me her thumb, covered in dried blood.

“Be honest with me,” I say, grabbing her hand before me and gaining her direct eye contact. She sucks in a nervous breath. “Do you still love him?”

It’s a question of mine I’ve been sitting on for a while now. She claims she hates the guy and is only using him in her game, but the sole purpose of putting herself through that kind of torment can’t be for me alone. Maybe there is this unrequited love that’s been festering since he cheated on her and destroyed her entire little world after her mother passed? I can’t bear the thought, but need to know.

Her face twists in disgust as she shakes her head.

“No,” she says, just over a whisper. Her face tells me I was crazy for even asking. “Not at all.”

“Then why, Han? Why do you put yourself in his arms? What’s the game you’re playing?”

She sits up, resting back on her hands as she looks at the wall.

“You hear things when you keep bad company close.”

“Like about the setup?” I question, narrowing my eyes as I push to sit up next to her. “You knew he was gonna jump me at the party? Is that what this was about?”

“No.” She shakes her head adamantly, turning to face me. “No, I had no idea that would happen.”

“Then why the cryptic message before leaving me?” I ask, feeling exacerbated.

“Bad people come in all shapes and sizes. Even though Bran likes to play the roles, he’s still evil beneath whatever hat he wears,” she declares. “Trust me, I’ve toyed with him for my own benefit long enough. He stole something of mine. But this is about you now, I won’t—”

“That night…” I begin, interrupting her. “That night at the party, you were trying to open his safe.” My eyes trace their way from the spot on the floor I’m studying up to her eyes. “What the fuck are you involved in?”

“I just need you to be aware of his intentions. He’s orchestrating something. I overheard him tonight. He’s upset that you’ve come into town and fucked up his business. They’re cooking up something bad, and I need to keep him close.”

She’s right. Evil comes in all forms. Hawke taught me that. But this shit is too much. Even if Bran and Silas are co-conspiring to fuck me over, she doesn’t need to intervene in the drug war going on between us. This is my shit I’ve gotten myself into and solely need to get out of. I scoff at the ridiculousness.

“I’m trying to protect you, don’t you see that? You gotta get out of this.”

“That’s just it. I don’t want you to have to have to do that, Han. It’s not that important to me.”

“See, that’s the problem,” she snaps at me, her little attitude flaring up as she stands, pacing the room.

I secretly love it when she fires up. It makes my dick twitch. Wrong time, wrong place, buddy.

“What? That I don’t give a fuck about Bran and his bullshit?” I scoff as I stand up off the bed. “I’m not scared of him.”

“It’s not just that, it’s everything you’re doing to yourself.”

“Wait.” I chuckle, looking away from her before understanding her intentions. “Are you giving me a D.A.R.E. talk? Get off the coke, junkie?” I shake my head. “Jesus, I already have Hawke and Cole barking in my ear, now you? Fuck, I thought you were different. Like, dude, you take more shit than me.”

Her eyes narrow as her scowl sets, telling me that last little jab hit her where it hurts. She marches up to where I’m standing, looking up at me with fire in her eyes.

“Fuck you, Kid.”

I hate that I like it when she’s angry. I shouldn’t push her like this, but something about her energy when she’s upset draws me towards her. I think it’s just real, raw passion that I love.

“Fuck me? Please do.” I cock my head, looking down at her. “But only secretly, in dark closets.”

“See.” She scoffs, her chest rising and falling with anger. “Everything is just a joke to you.”

“Not everything needs to be so dramatic, either. This shit isn’t that important.”

“Nothing is Kai!”

She’s mad. She’s yelling. When has she ever yelled at me? She walks to the other side of the room, raking her hands through her hair, pushing the bangs off her forehead as she blows out air between her lips. I wasn’t expecting this reaction from her. Where is this coming from? The anger? The rage?

“Nothing about yourself is important to you. Everything can’t always be a joke. At some point, you have to take this shit seriously. Take your life seriously! You’re so quick to tell me and everyone else around you how to better themselves, how to open up and be real, but when it comes you yourself, you never look in that fucking mirror!” she spits out, pointing her finger at me as she yells.

“I don’t do that,” I argue.

She marches back up to me, pointing her finger into my chest as she continues, “If you put half the effort into yourself that you put into pursuing me, you’d never end up in situations like the shit storm tonight.”

“It’s not—”

“You never talk to yourself the way you talk to me. You don’t even take your own advice? Why?! Why can’t you do that?!”

“I don’t know, guess I never felt the need—”

“You are worth more than how you treat yourself. What you did tonight was ridiculous. You’re all over Brynn, doing shit and saying things just to get under my skin, then you see me with Bran, knowing how I feel about the prick, just to pop a shit ton of pills and almost overdose?! Now Hawke thinks I had something to do with it.” She sighs, running her hand down her face.

“What? That’s bullshit. No, he doesn’t.”

I say the words but then get hit with a wave of worry. I’d hate to cause more of a rift between their family, especially when Han literally had nothing to do with that fact that I was fucking drugged outta my mind. And besides, I took the first swing at Bran. Clearly, that wasn’t planned.

“I don’t know why any of this is that big of a deal, to be honest.”

“It’s a big fucking deal, Kai!” she screams out.

I open my mouth in rebuttal, but am left speechless. Why is she so upset?

“It’s time you wake the fuck up and stop being so goddamn selfish. Realize you have people who need you too!” she screams, out of breath from her little rant.

I wait for her to continue, but she ends up getting upset by her thoughts. She finally sits on the edge of the bed, tears brimming her eyes as she holds her fists to her lips. Her jaw remains tight as if to hold herself together with it.

Sitting up, I place a hand on her shoulder before she nudges it off.

“Just go,” she says softly, breathing hard through her nose.

“Han—”

“Just fucking leave!” she screams.

This is not the intensity that I crave. She’s fracturing into tiny pieces before me. Her cracks are revealing themselves as her pain is exuding. I don’t like this part. I don’t like it at all. This isn’t us being playful and sassy, this is real torture. Real hurt. Something I never thought I was even capable of bringing out of her cold, detached heart.

Getting up, I drop the ice pack on the nightstand and head towards the door. I’m going to give her space. It’s me who’s clearly making her react like this. I’ve done enough damage tonight, if my face wasn’t evidence enough.

I linger by the door frame, peering back at her while nervously drumming my fingers against the white wood. I don’t want to leave her. I want to hold her. I want to take away everything that’s weighing her down and lift it, even if only for a minute. But I failed her by failing myself.

Her head is resting in her palm, her fingers gripping her bangs straight up, causing the little sprouts of hair to stick through her little stress grip. I drop my gaze to the floor, feeling defeated, feeling well…like shit. I swallow down the pain, turning to leave.

“The thought actually crossed my mind twice tonight.”

Her voice stops me in my tracks. I turn back around.

“What thought?” I ask, my eyes immediately tracing her.

She stares off into the corner of the room, thoughts racing through her complicated little mind like a cyclone of emotions.

“Twice,” she says softly, her voice cracking through her emotion.

Her eyes replace mine and tears are running down the length of her rosy little cheeks, racing to meet her quivering chin.

“Twice tonight I felt the weight of losing you.”