Authors: Aj Summer
Guard My
Heart
Tainted
Hearts 0.5
AJ
Summer
All Rights
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author, and your support and respect is appreciated.
The
characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to
real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the
author.
Edited by:
Lindsay Hopper
Cover
Design by Kari Ayasha at Cover to Cover designs
Cover
photograph © Frenk and Danielle Kaufmann
Firstly, I
want to dedicate this book to everyone who doesn’t believe in happy endings but
believe in hoping it never ends. This book is for you, because even when life
chewed us up and spat us out, we still found our here and now. Hold onto it and
make it count.
Secondly,
to YOU – Finally!
Book one
does not have a happy ending and I hope that you all will forgive me, because it
will happen eventually. Even misfits deserve
love…
KYLE
I can’t paint for shit. I can’t carry a tune to save my
life. But I have a story.
A story that started out brave. A story that started out
humble. A story of total destruction.
What would you do to save your family?
My decision was easy, the consequence was
death.
I am Kyle, but most people know me as The
Runner.
How did this start?
Seven days. In seven days I changed my world and the world
of everyone I loved.
To tell this story I have to start at the beginning. My
last week of high school.
Fucking asshole has been drinking again. I can smell him
all the way from the front door. I walk through the dimly lit house towards the
kitchen. Mom and Mia must be in bed already. It’s not even eight o’clock yet. I
hate how much power he has over this house. I would kill him if I could, but I
wouldn’t mean much to Mom and Mia if my ass is in jail.
“Kyle,” he grunts at me.
“Yeah?” I grunt back.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he slurs.
“None of your business.”
I leave him with that thought and climb the stairs to my
little sister’s room. She is lying on her bed with her eyes closed. The
earphones stuck in her ears, blocking the sound of my approaching footsteps. I
grab hold of her ankle and tug.
She flies up, kicking and screaming.
“Damn it, Kyle! You scared the hell out of me.” Her face
is red and flustered and hilarious as hell. I can’t stop the chuckle escaping my
throat. I shrug it off when I see her solemn face and fall down on the bed next
to her.
“He’s drunk again.” I don’t need to explain. She knows who
I’m talking about.
Her eyes go big, and her bottom lip trembles a little. I
should probably have said that in a better way, built her up to it.
“Where’s Mom?” she asks. There’s a slight hitch in her
voice, and I remember Dad’s voice saying, “Take care of your family, Kyle”.
“In her room? Let’s go check,” I guess. I grab Mia by the
hand and lead her through the dark passage to Mom’s room. Her door is slightly
open, and it’s dark inside. She’s pretending to be asleep.
Mia lets out a small breath and whispers softly, “Mom?”
Mom stirs in the bed and looks up at us with a small smile on her face. She
knows he’s drinking too. This is her defense mechanism—if you keep completely
still, the hunter sometimes misses the prey.
We don’t say anything. We just sit there on the bed,
staring at each other. What is there to say? We can speculate and say it will
be okay, but we know it won’t. He is our stepdad. Mia and I made a pact when we
were kids to never say his name out loud. Mia believed that by saying his name,
you made him real. Like the bogeyman. If you say his name he will know where
you are. But he is real.
I look at my sister. Young, naïve, and impressionable. Mia
is a romantic at heart. She is filled with hope for the world even if she
experiences the dark in it every day. Even though she experiences the truth
about love and how it can break you every day, she still believes in everybody
having their soul mate. When her first date was botched by that asshole
Christopher Thorn, she was so upset. Not because he made a grab at her, but
because her fairy-tale date was ruined. Admittedly, she was a little freaked
out, but not convinced that love is evil.
I don’t believe in love or in being in love. I’ve had
girlfriends before, but none of them made me want to burst into song. There’s
this one girl. She lives next door, Jenna. Pretty, really pretty. We’ve been
friends since we were snotty-nosed kids running around playing cops and
robbers. I guess what I’m saying is I get how someone can feel in love with
her. Just. Not. Me. I’ve seen what love does to people. How can I be sure I
won’t turn out like him? Can I really do to Jenna what he does to
Mom?
Mom, a beautiful, strong woman. Yet she carries all her
life lessons on her face. Her eyes are wise and not easily fooled. But there is
a sadness there that will never go away. Her mouth is always pressed into a
hard line. Like she’s keeping something inside. But it’s not due to us. Mom has
never had a bad word for either of us, and we have tested those limits
countless times.
All three heads turn towards the door when we hear him
enter the room.
“Oh look, the cavalry is all here.” He makes a general
sweep of the room with his arm. “Get the fuck out!” he shouts, stumbling
through the door. I can tell he won’t make any trouble tonight. He has had way
too much to drink. If he wants to start a fight, even Mia could push him
over.
“Mia, Kyle. You kids run along to bed now,” Mom says
gently. She doesn’t want to poke the sleeping bear with a stick. Except the
bear isn’t asleep, just very drunk. I look at her when Mia grabs hold of my
hand and gives it a hard squeeze. She’s telling me not to say anything. I
won’t. I’m with Mom on this. Don’t provoke the bear.
I pull Mia up by her hand and move us around him, keeping
my eye on him always. He slams the room door closed as soon as we step through
it. I yank Mia out of the way and save her from a skull fracture, just in
time.
“Asshole,” Mia mutters under her breath. Her head is down,
but I can see the wetness on her lashes.
“Go to bed Mia. It will be okay.” I push her gently in the
direction of her room. I watch until she closes the door behind her and I hear
the telltale scrape of her dresser being shoved against the door.
He has never hurt either of us unprovoked. Normally, he
leaves us alone. He only hurts Mom. Because now that I’m no longer a scrawny
teenager, I can do more damage than him. I’m faster and stronger and he knows
it. Years of drinking have left him with a bloated belly and sagging muscles.
His last drunken brawl with me did not bode him well. But still, with the odd
jobs I’ve been doing, I’ve given him every single cent I make. Fighting upsets
Mom. So if it can be avoided, I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t make much but
it helps keep Mom out of his book of debt. That is his excuse for beating on
her. “
All you and your stinky kids do is cost me money.
” He uses it like
it’s his personal motto or something. He doesn’t care that it’s a lie. It works
for him and that’s all that counts. Mom has a job as a cashier at a local fast
food place, but it pays peanuts. He eats here, demands that Mom cooks for him,
and in order for him to eat, he has to buy food. We don’t touch his stuff.
Ever.
I walk down the dimly lit passage toward the bathroom.
When your mind is a mess, the best thing to do is take a hot shower. When your
body is broken, the best thing to do is take a very long shower. There is
something about the way the water washes down your body that makes it feel
better, renewed. Like tomorrow will be a better day. It creates the illusion
that the water can just wash all your problems away. What I wouldn’t give to
just watch this mess that is my life flow down the drain.
In the shower, the hot water runs down my bowed head and
trickles down my face. I close my eyes, and for a second, I succumb to the
drowsiness clouding my brain. The water sneaks into my nose, and I gasp to
catch a breath. Death by drowning is not on my list of things to do. I shake my
head wildly to wake up my relaxed muscles and heavy eye lids.
Pete had us offload four trucks today in the space of two
hours. That cannot be done unless you are on a suicide mission. All I have for
those two hours is twenty bucks. My hands and back are in a constant cramp. I’m
exhausted. Stingy bastard. The rich get richer and us poor blokes? We work
ourselves to death and stay poor.
Mia told me about the grade twelve trip coming up next
week. I heard about it too. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, so I said
nothing. I know Mom is broke. She spent her last cents on the phones she got us
for our birthday last week. Eighteen, going to school, and working my ass off.
Everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I snort to myself.
I spoke to Mr. Roland because my sister deserves to have a
school holiday with her friends, her last year of high school. He has given me
until Monday to come up with the $450 it will cost for us both to go. I won’t
let Mia go alone, so it’s either all the money or we both stay home. Two days
really isn’t long enough to come up with that kind of cash, but I have a plan.
Dad left two old motorcycles in the garage when he died.
I’ve always wanted to fix them, but cash is just too tight and parts are
expensive. Pete, the guy I work for, might have a buyer. I’ll see if he shows
up tomorrow like he said. If I get those bikes sold, we are good to
go.
The water runs cold, and I lift my heavy head to scan the
room for my towel. My tired ass leans over too far, and my foot just won’t
cooperate with my body. I slip on the wet floor and almost greet the tile with
my face. I’m so tired that if I fell down now I would probably just sleep on
the floor. But it’s good to know my reflexes are still working.
I was dead on my feet a few minutes ago, but now, lying in
my bed, sleep just won’t come. Instead, I’m staring at the dark ceiling of my
bedroom. Looking for an answer that I won’t find up there. I need to find a
better way to make money. A holiday for me and my sister is one thing, but I
need to get Mom and Mia out of this place permanently.