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Julie shrugged. “Maybe. But you loved Liam more, and even you didn't know he was sad. I only saw him twice a month, and I
knew
. How come you didn't?”

A sob strangled in Murphy's throat. Tears poured from his eyes. “I was working, baby. I worked hard so you kids had a life.”

“I didn't need another video game, Dad! I needed my father. More than just a couple of times a month. Liam needed you too. He lived with you, and you still didn't know the kind of pain he was in. Do you even know what he wanted to be when he grew up?”

“He loved baseball.”

“No. No, Daddy. He hated sports. He told me that every time I visited. He wanted to be a guidance counselor so he could help other confused kids. I used to ask him what he was confused about. He said “Everything.” He disappointed you. He knew it, Daddy. He
knew
it.”

“You're blaming me,” Murphy said. “It's not my fault. It's his!” The gun rose again. “He killed my boy. Get out of here so I can make him pay.”

“No!” She stood to get right in her father's face. “He never meant to hurt Liam, Daddy, but you're standing here with blood on your hands, and that makes you so much worse.”

I managed to roll until I was back on my knees but couldn't make it past my heels, dizzy from pain, fear, and…Julie.

He was crying, staring at my blood on his hands. “He has to pay. For Liam.”

“He
has
paid, Dad. You have to believe me. I know him. I see the guilt he lives with. You have to let it go now.”

Murphy was still shaking his head. I watched the hand holding the gun slowly come back up.

I dragged myself to my feet. My body quivered, and my knees could just barely support me. Gray spots danced in my vision. Blood ran in rivers from my face, and I knew I only had moments left.

“I'm sorry, Julie. I
have
to.” Murphy grabbed Julie by her arm, hauled her out of the way and with his other hand, took aim, but Julie was determined to stop that bullet no matter what it took. She bucked, twisted, dropped, and finally succeeded in breaking her father's grasp just as he pulled the trigger.

God. Oh God, no.

My Name Is Ken

I was floating.

Gauzy images danced along the edges of my mind. Julie smiling at me, kissing me, telling me she loved me. I burrowed deeper into the soft warmth.

Julie
.

Her name, just thinking about her name zapped my hazy dreams into nightmares. Julie lying. Julie standing between her father and me.

Screaming.

Falling.

Bleeding.

I snapped back to consciousness. Pain pierced every cell in my body when I raised my hands to my head to fight the images and then to fight the hands that held me down.

“Shh, you're okay. It's okay. It's me. Pop.”

Pop?

I wrestled my heavy eyelids open. My eyes wouldn't focus, and I squinted until I finally recognized my grandfather. My hands stopped fighting and pulled him closer. “Pop.”

My throat felt like it had been sandblasted. My face throbbed. Pushing out that single word was like bench-pressing a few hundred pounds, and it was still no more than a hoarse croak.

“I had to kick your parents out for coffee before they collapsed. They've been sitting here since you were admitted.”

Admitted?

I blinked some more and looked around. I was in a hospital bed, an IV plugged into a vein, some monitor vised onto my finger, and a tube strapped to my face pumping ice-cold air up my nose. Julie, I thought with a gasp that brought on another belt of pain. Oh God, Julie.

“Easy. No deep breaths. Your chest is taped. Bastard broke a rib, punctured your lung. It collapsed. You collapsed, been unconscious ever since.”

Oh. “Is that all?”

“They say you have a concussion and a fractured jaw too. They want to wire your jaw. Left eye socket is cracked.”

Made sense. I felt like I played a few hockey games—as the puck.

Pop's eyes squeezed shut. His hands tightened on mine. “Thought we'd lost you for good this time, Kenny.”

The sound of my real name bounced around in my head. I didn't hear another word he said after that until he sat on the bed beside me.

“Really thought it was all over.” He gulped.

“This is…what it takes…to get you in…same room as me.” Talking was like running an uphill mile.

“I was wrong. I'm sorry.”

The drugs they're pumping into my veins must have been incredibly powerful hallucinogens. I was certain my grandfather just apologized. I stared, my brain muddy. I shook my head once—damn, that hurt—and Pop's face fell. “Tell me…what the hell I did…to make you hate me so much.”

He shook his head violently. “No. Never hated you. You—” He moved from my bed to the chair beside it. “You ran away from what you did instead of facing it like a man.”

My hands clenched. “Never
ran
. Was punished by the law.” I had to shove the words out through the swelling in my jaw.

“You changed your name. You changed
my
name.” Pop pounded the arm of his chair.

I swallowed, my chest heaving in heavy, painful waves. “Changed it to keep everyone safe.”

“Bullshit. You changed your name so you could
hide
.” Pop stood up in a rush of fury, paced around my bed. “Ken Mele does. Not. Hide.” He thumped his chest to punctuate every word.

“Maybe Kenneth Walter Mele doesn't hide, but Kenneth
James
Mele
does
because his parents asked him to. Kenneth
James
Mele does whatever it takes to protect his family instead of turning his back because of his goddamn pride.” My rage eclipsed the pain for that one moment.

We glared at each other for a long moment, our faces red. Suddenly, I didn't care that much about the old man's reasons. All I cared about was Julie.

“Pop.” I tugged on the bed rails, tried to sit up. “Julie. Need to see Julie.”

“Uh-uh.” He pushed me back and left his hands on my shoulders.

Bracing me.

“Julie's gone.”

Something exploded inside me. My head spun, my vision lost color. I sucked air but couldn't breathe. Pop's hands tightened when the panic gripped me in powerful jaws and thrashed me from side to side.

“Easy! Easy! She was transferred to a hospital in Manhattan for special surgery.”

Special surgery. She was alive? God, she had to be in bad shape. I brought a hand to my face, tried to rub away the throbbing. Jesus. I took in another deep breath, almost on a first-name basis with the pain now. “How long was I out?”

“Um. Two days.”

“How bad is she hurt?”

Pop moved back to his chair. “Shoulder's tore up. Eventually, she'll be fine…physically. Emotionally, she has a long road ahead. Your mom called her mother, but she—” A dark cloud passed over his face. “She asked that you please stay away.”

The heart behind the taped ribs and collapsed lung gave a sick twist at those words.

“No!” I clenched, my eyes crossing at another peak of pain. “No, they can't keep us apart.”

“Kenny, you have to. It's what she wants.”

“No!” I fought to sit up. “She said she loves me. She…oh God, I didn't believe her. She got shot to save my life, and I wouldn't believe her.” My words slurred together.

“She watched her father nearly kill you, son.”

I flinched away like he'd branded me.

“Where's he?”

“Cops arrested him, but he already made bail.”

Great. I shut my eyes, abruptly exhausted. So I guess as soon as I'm sprung from the hospital, we'd be moving. Again.

“Don't think he'll be bothering us again though.”

My eyes popped open again.

“Your parents had a little discussion with Mr. Murphy. Told him about your time in juvie. Your scars. Your nightmares. Your drinking. He…he likes the idea that you're suffering, so killing you is no longer his life's greatest ambition. Plus, he's grateful you helped him save Julie. Says you threw yourself over her, wouldn't move until he dropped the gun.” Pop finished with a snort.

I didn't remember that. The gun went off. Julie fell. There was so much blood. It stained the sand. I kept trying, but I couldn't stop it. I put pressure on it. I kept calling her name, and the blood turned gray. Everything turned gray.

“Pop, I need to see her.”

“I know, son. Do you really love her?”

“Yes.” I did not hesitate.

“Then you give her anything she needs.” He shifted, grabbed an envelope from the table over my bed. “She left you a note.”

Great.

I took it, struggled to open the envelope, and cursed the vision that refused to sharpen so I could read the shaky, messy handwriting. Pop took the sheet of notebook paper out of my hands, put on his glasses, and read.

Dear Dan,

You probably totally hate me. But I never lied about loving you.

Pop looked up. “Stop or keep going?”

“Go.” I swallowed down the bile that wanted to choke me. He stared at me for a moment and finally nodded.

I should have told you. I didn't want it always hanging over our heads. But it was there. It always will be. And now it's worse. I wish things were different.

Fuck. I didn't want to hear this.

I loved you. But love wasn't enough. I even forgave you. But it's not my forgiveness you need.

Good-bye.

J.

My hand automatically lifted to my neck, but the chain was gone. Pop folded the note, stuffed it back into the envelope, and tossed it on the table. I reached out for it, the pain peaking.

Pop took something from the table, pressed it into my hand. “Here. You've been looking for this, even in your sleep.”

I opened my hand, found my forgiveness medallion. I clutched it and her note in a fist that shook. Dad said I'd know when I couldn't live without her, that would be when I'd know I really loved her.

I couldn't let her go. Damn it, I would not let her go.

We
have
to.
Kenny's voice was a dull, faint echo in my throbbing head.

“No, Kenny! You were the one who wanted her in the first place.”

Doesn't matter now. This is how she wants it.

I couldn't see Kenny. I could barely hear him. I hadn't heard him in days.

You
were
unconscious, you idiot.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” I shut my eyes, tried to find him.

Oh, I'm just awesome. And how are you?

“Ken? What's wrong?” Pop's voice was miles away.

“I thought you were gone.”

Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint you.

“No, I didn't mean it like that.”

I
know. I'm glad you fought back. Did you mean what you said?

“Kenny—”

It's okay. It's okay now.
His voice echoed inside of my skull. I covered my ears and moaned.

“Dan! Look at me, son. Look at me.”

A hand tapped my face. I blinked past the blinding pain, gasping and panting, and saw not Pop but my father. When did he get here? One look at Dad's worried expression and I realized I'd been talking to Kenny out loud. My face burned, but the idea of trying to squeeze out an explanation for my momentary lapse of sanity felt hopeless. I sank back against the pillows, saying nothing.

Uh
-
oh
, Kenny said.

“He's out of his goddamn mind.” Pop was across the room. With Mom. Her eyes bulged. No. No more. I couldn't keep hurting them.

Dad sat wearily on the bed next to me and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Dan, what the hell's going on? You're not just talking to…to yourself. You're having
conversations
?”

I wasn't crazy. What the hell could I say to convince them of that?

News
flash, moron. You
are
. Man up and tell them.

If I tell them, you…you know what'll happen.

Yeah, I know.

I frantically tried to pull a convincing lie together, but the note still gripped in my fist derailed my plan. It's not my forgiveness you need, she'd said. I shifted my gaze from Dad to Mom to Pop and back again, tried not to wince at their expressions. I sucked in another shaky breath and closed my eyes.

“Dan, answer me.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“For how long?”

“Since I was thirteen.”

He was silent for so long that I opened my eyes to see if he was still there.

“Why didn't you tell us?”

“Dad. I…God, I'm so sorry…I'm
broken
.” I blurted and braced for the argument. He'd probably deny it, try to explain it in some perfectly logical way.

“Then we'll fix you,” he said simply.

I blinked. His arms came around me and held me.

Damn it. Goddamn it. The fight in me dissolved. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears leaked out anyway. My dad's arms tightened around me as I cried in great gulping sobs. I cried for Liam, for Kenny, for Julie, for her parents and for my parents and for Pop. I cried because I hurt all over, because I was alive, because I had no more secrets to keep.

For days, I cried.

————

I sat alone in our family room, staring at the computer screen. Mom was in the kitchen, making potato salad. She'd invited Brandon's family over for a July Fourth picnic. She walked toward me, holding a glass of water. Pop and Dad were out…somewhere. I forgot where.

“Here you go, honey.”

I took the pill she held out in her palm and swallowed it dry. After a few seconds, she put the water glass down next to the computer. She ran her eyes over the clothes that were now too big for my skinny frame.

“You must be hungry. I can make you a sandwich before everyone gets here.”

“No, thanks.” I wasn't hungry anymore.

“You sure? The potato salad's done. You love my potato salad.”

I nodded. “I'm sure.” The wires that held my jaw together had come out, but it still hurt to open my mouth wide enough to chew.

Mom stared at me for a long moment and then handed me a thick envelope that she had tucked under her arm. I didn't even notice it until she held it out. “This came in the mail yesterday.”

I opened the envelope. It was my diploma. I'd missed graduation. I tossed it on the desk next to the water glass.

“Can I see?”

I shrugged. Mom opened the vinyl case and gasped.

“Oh, honey.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “You used your real name? Pop is going to
bust
with pride.”

I didn't say anything. It didn't matter.

Nothing did.

After a moment, she closed the case and put it back where I'd tossed it.

“So what are you up to?”

I shrugged again. “Email.”

“Anything interesting come in?”

“USC sent my dorm room assignment.”

Mom's eyes dimmed. “You sure you want to do that?”