Never Kiss a Bad Boy (43 page)

Jacob approached first, his hand open, expectant. Looking down at the gun I held, I realized I had the only weapon among us. Kite had found his Ruger on the road, but it was empty. The hatchet couldn't compare to a gun.

If I wanted to, I could shoot them both and escape.

I could secure my life.

“How did you find me?” I asked, not releasing the pistol.

“You stole my Mercedes,” Kite said, his grin brittle. “I have a GPS tracker in it, it goes to my phone. Jacob drove us here.”

Of course. He loved that car, hated anyone else driving it. I should have expected a precaution from thieves.

Shifting, I turned towards Jacob. He was a statue. I wished I could read his mind, know what he was planning. “You found the letter,” I whispered.

His nod was subtle. “Yes. It was where you left it.” His fingers twitched, summoning my attention. This was a standoff; kill them and live, or give the gun up and put my future in their hands.

Hands that had murdered.

Hands that had made me whole.

Closing my eyes, I placed the gun gently into his palm. It was a steel clamp, closing on the weapon and pulling away. “What are you thinking now?” he asked me.

Keeping my eyes closed, I made fists at my hips. I summoned all the strength I had, looked for the piece of me that had been there before these men had transformed my heart.

“I'm thinking... it's done. I did what I wanted to. Lars is dead, and whatever happens now...” Looking up, I stared into Jacob's face and refused to crack. “Whatever happens, I'm ready for it. I told you I wasn't scared of death. I meant it. Do what you want.”

The two hitmen shared a long look. The messages I couldn't see telegraphed through the air.

Not knowing was better for me.

Especially when Kite snapped forward, catching me around the mouth with his palm. This was the move he'd been about to inflict on me way back when, that fateful first night in the Corner Velvet bar.

My scream went no where. Cloth filled my teeth, yanking around to tie in place. I was gagged, they'd been prepared. Was this really happening?

Jacob looked on, placid and unmoving. The last thing I saw was a thick wall of fabric.

They'd blindfolded me for the second time.

Neither of them spoke. Efficient machines, I couldn't tell who was tying my hands behind my back or my ankles together. It wasn't like earlier tonight, back when we'd still pretended this confrontation wasn't waiting for us.

One of them hoisted me; the scent in my nose was clean, minty. It had to be Jacob.

Disoriented, I landed on something hard. I knew it was the trunk of a car when the metal clicked shut heavily above me. They were going to erase me.

I'd told myself I was fine with it.

But I wasn't.

Screaming into the gag, I rolled in the trunk and struggled. I could do nothing but tire myself out.
I'm an idiot,
I thought angrily.
I shouldn't have given them the gun. Why did I do that?

Revenge... it wasn't all I wanted. Not any longer.

Jacob and Kite had grown a will to live inside of me. They'd fanned my flames of life, and now, they were going to take it all away.

For some time I laid there. I didn't know how long.

I pictured them as they cleaned up the murder site. There was loads of evidence to get rid of, they were going to be careful.

Movement, the car rocked, the vibrations of the engine starting. That we were driving at all terrified me. Each second put me closer to my death. How could they do this to me? I'd given them the letter because I cared about them. I didn't want
them
to suffer.

I'd thought... deep down... that they cared for me, too.

Marina the reckless idiot. Good job, you dug your own grave.

Kite wasn't the king of fucking bad ideas. I was.

Nauseous, I almost didn't notice us slowing down. Time had no meaning, it could have been minutes or hours. I was feeling claustrophobic, the instant the trunk popped I sucked in air through my nose. Hands touched me, pulled me free.

Gently, I was curled against someone's chest. Soft fibers and that refreshing scent made me think it was Jacob again. In a panic, I whimpered behind the gag. His lips came to my ear, a caressing breeze. “Shh.”

Behind the blindfold, my eyes were damp.

The walk was short. My ears pricked at the sound of water. Was that the ocean? No, I'd smell salt. Where were we?

He put me on the ground, my knees connecting with something firm. The rushing noise rumbled under me now. I was positive it was a river, even before they pulled the blindfold off. Blinking, I adjusted to the darkness easily. I'd been living in it, after all.

Around me, I saw the solid wood of a bridge. The river was visible between the gaps. It was what was in front of me that drew my eye.

Jacob crouched, the knife in his hand shining bright. My heart started thumping madly.

“Promise you won't scream,” he said.

Something touched my shoulder. Twisting, I saw Kite beside me. His face looked... forlorn. Whatever was coming, he was deep in his own head. That didn't help my nerves.

“Marina,” Jacob said. I looked back at him. “No screaming. Okay?” When I nodded, Kite quickly undid the gag. It was a relief, my mouth was sore from the pressure.

I sucked in a big gulp of oxygen. Why would they take me here? My brain tingled with the visual of my body sinking in the river. I shuddered violently. “Please,” I croaked. “Don't do this.”

Jacob smiled sadly. Turning the knife, I could see now that it looked old, but well cared for. A pocketknife, I thought, by the shape of it. “I want you to know something,” he said quietly. “Kite and I... we debated intensely about what to do with you. We thought, if we didn't help you, maybe you'd end up dead on your own.” The blade went flat, he tapped it on his knee. “From the start, we knew you couldn't go on as you were. But what to do with the girl who messed with our minds?” Blue eyes swung up over me. “Kite wanted you dead, initially. Then he argued for your life. I argued for our future. It was complicated, you can guess, coming to an agreement.”

Kite walked away, standing beside Jacob. He wouldn't look at me, no matter how I mentally willed him to. “I told Jacob we could trust you,” Kite muttered. “You failed that test, Marina.”

All of my nerves turned to ice. “I—what? No! I don't know what you mean by a test, but you guys
can
trust me.” Hot tears made streaks down my cheeks. “I swear, I'd never do anything to hurt you two!”

Puffing air through his nose, Jacob reached out and cupped my jaw. I didn't like how close the knife was to me. “Regardless, after much deliberation, we realized tonight that there was only one way for this to end.” Fear seized me, took all of my arguments and threw them in the river. “Before this can go any further... Marina, you should know about us. What we've done.” His lips—lips that had once kissed me so tenderly—became a harsh frown. “It's only fair.”

Lowering the blade, Jacob stared at his feet. He was gathering himself. Was it so he could talk, or so he could slice my pulsing throat? I held my breath, waiting.

Finally, Jacob closed his eyes... and he began their story.

Jacob

16 years earlier

––––––––

S
tanding beside the wet edge of the pit, I watched them lowering the tiny casket. It was a cruel thing that they needed to craft that small.

What kind of world would allow a four year old to die?

Where was the lesson in that?

The preacher was saying something. My ears, stuffed by the constant, numbing sound of the rain, didn't listen. I was exhausted by all the apologies, all the gentle pats and red-rimmed eyes that tried to understand or console. There was nothing in this world that could comfort me.

My little brother was gone.

Around me, adults taller than trees sobbed into each others arms. There was no one to even hold my hand. Daniel's death had taken our father away.

He'd been ruined by the tragedy. I'd stumbled on him, stuffed with pills and soaking in his own blood. Dad would have been dead in an hour if I hadn't dialed for an ambulance.

The police had called me a hero for saving him.

I think my dad would disagree.

Turning, I put my fists into my pockets and started to walk. I wouldn't get far, no one would allow a nine-year old to wander off.

In the grey shadows and slippery air, I tried to vanish. Everything had changed for me; I'd lost everyone. With my father in a mental ward, I was being shoved an hour away to stay with my grandmother.

She was sweet, but her one milky eye held as much clarity as the other. The way she kept calling me Bill, my dad's name, made me sure that
she
belonged in the mental ward with him.

On the brink of the cemetery, I hovered by the grimy bust of an angel. The name on the base was faded, I didn't try to read it.

I wanted to crawl into the ground with Daniel. Living was a burden, I couldn't imagine what was left out there for me.

The tears that welled up were painful. My eyes throbbed, fighting to hold them back. With no one to see me, I crumbled to the ground and sobbed. This wasn't fair. Why had this happened?

There was an empty chunk inside of me.

Once, it had been filled with love.

Sitting there in the mud, I wished for the rain to soak through my skin until I bloated with water.
Let me drown here, right here
.
Put me in that tiny casket instead.

I'd give my life if it would bring Daniel back.

But I didn't drown, and the clouds didn't part to drop my little brother out of the sunlight.

There were no such things as wishes.

****

I
moved upstate, as far away from the rest of the world as you could get.

Tiny homes and trailers with too much space between them filled the landscape. Everything was rusted, crawling in that thick, damp kind of moss you could lie down on and sleep. Well, if it weren't for the awful spiders.

Everything about my new home screamed 'forgotten.'

It was fitting. My own personal limbo.

Gram had done very little with me since I'd come to stay with her. She'd given me a room, warned me to keep away from the construction sites, and then she'd sat in her faded chair in front of the TV and never budged. She slept there and ate there. It was her throne.

I'd never been locked away, but I'd also never had so much freedom.

I didn't know what to do with it.

I'd spent so many hours, day in and day out, playing with Daniel. Some brothers didn't get along, but not us. I'd adored him.

With his smiling face in my mind, I left the foundation-sinking house. I learned quickly that in this area, people didn't want to be bothered. I saw almost no other kids.

I wasn't attending the school here; not yet, anyway. The hope was that my father would recover and take me back to my hometown soon.

Wandering past a long stretch of gorge packed with bulldozers, I ignored Gram's instructions. She'd told me not to come here; I got it, she was worried I'd get hurt. But I wasn't about to jump into the mouth of a machine or something.

Standing on the edge of the sloped dirt, I looked down at what was happening. There were men mixed in with the whirring devices, chopping up the ground and churning towards the center of the Earth. They created deep shafts, but for what, I didn't know.

Looking to my left, I spotted the glimmer of water in the distance. Piles of sand bags and other things kept it at bay. Were they making a bridge here?

I stood and watched them work. The construction was white noise, both in sound and sight. The sun was fading when I finally left.

A stiff chill in the air forced me to knuckle my hands down into my pockets. I should have gone back to Gram's, but my legs weren't done yet.

They wanted to escape something I didn't even understand.

I'd been told before that I was smart for my age. Maybe I was. Wondering about Daniel, my father, my future and the point of everything... I would have preferred being a slobbering idiot. Then I could have gone digging in the dirt, pretending to be a bulldozer, and maybe actually been happy.

Kids shouldn't be so morbid. I did know that much.

Pushing up a hill of cracked concrete, patches of it missing, my ears picked up a sound. Climbing to the top of the battered road, I stood over the smallest, most beat up playground I'd ever seen.

And there, fitting the scene so perfectly, was a single, solitary kid.

He sat on a swing, head down and tears rolling down his chin. Other than myself, I'd never seen another boy crying. Daniel didn't count, he'd been a baby. Babies could get away with sloppy tears.

Amazed, I watched him for a minute. His reddish hair matched his glowing nose. He had been sniffling for some time, the rawness was obvious. Skinnier than me, he had the look of an underfed puppy.

Something in my chest—something curious and sympathetic—forced me to walk over to him. My shoes on the gravel alerted the kid to my presence.

His head shot up, charcoal-black eyes fixing on me with fear, then accusation. “What are you looking at?” he snapped.

Pulling up short, I searched for any cuts or bruises on his glaring face. I couldn't see any. “Why are you crying?”

“I'm not crying.” Rubbing his eyes furiously, he gripped the swing's chains and hunched lower. He was trying to vanish. I knew what that was like.

For the first time since Daniel's funeral, I felt myself being pulled towards someone. Ignoring how he flinched, I walked until I was sitting on the swing beside him. “I'm Jacob. Nice to meet you.”

His frown said he wasn't sure about that. Silence hung between us, his coltish legs digging his sneakers into the gravel. He didn't look at me when he mumbled. “Kite. I'm Kite.”

“Kite?” I asked, trying to make him look my way by sheer force of my stare. It wasn't working. “Does that mean you can fly?”

Jerking his head around, he gaped at me. “What are you talking about?”

The smile on my face felt strange. It had been so long. “You know, kites can soar in the air. Didn't you ever see one?”