Wild Girl (Slateview High 2)

Then he kissed me once more and led me from the room.

By the time we emerged from the bathroom, the hallway had mostly cleared out. Only a few kids lingered, and when they glanced our way, Kace’s threatening expression quickly made them turn away. Strangely, I found that I hardly even cared. I was sure they knew what we’d been doing, but I couldn’t find an ounce of shame about it. Let them think whatever they wanted.

I gathered the rest of my things from my locker, and Kace held the door open for me as we stepped out of the school building. The air was sharp and cold, but I found I didn’t mind it much as we started the walk home. I still burned hot, my body still buzzing and my blood still rushing in my ears from our encounter in the bathroom.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, our bodies brushing against each other occasionally, and it was so… easy that it made my heart ache with an emotion I couldn’t even quite name.

“You never did answer my question,” I murmured, glancing up at him as we made our way down the quiet street. “I wish you would. Why do you always fight?”

He sighed, his grip on my hand tightening a little. “Reaper. It’s my nickname, ain’t it? Should answer that question pretty well.”

“Not really. I don’t even know why that’s your nickname. I mean, I could guess… but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Kace stared straight ahead, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me, and frankly, I couldn’t blame him if he didn’t. We were all entitled to our secrets, and the Lost Boys in particular were very good at keeping things close to the chest. But after a few more heartbeats, he let out a long breath.

“I told you about my mom, right? How she was hooked on drugs? That’s why I was taken away from her.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Yeah, well. Her dealer was my father. It’s how they met. He used to knock her around a lot too. Used to use her to connect to people to sell to. Man’s willing to pay for a piece of pussy, it’s just a step below payin’ for drugs, y’know?”

I said nothing, but the weight of his words settled hard on my chest, making my heart beat slower.

“Anyway… he got too fucking vicious one too many times. He liked knocking her around when she started to try to come off the stuff. I think he did it on purpose. He crushed her spirit because he knew she’d go back to the only thing that would make it all numb again. She’d go back to the blow. And oh, that fucker would hold it over her head, especially when he knew she was hurting for it. She’d never been on the stuff before she met him.”

Kace didn’t look at me as he spoke, but now that he’d started, the words seemed to pour out of him, as if they’d been kept contained for so long that they couldn’t be held in any longer. As if he’d been dying for this release.

“So one day when it was hurting her really bad, she just… I dunno, she realized she’d had enough. She wanted to stop everything. The blow, the guys, him. He didn’t like it. Started beatin’ the shit outta her.”

My stomach twisted, and I reached for Kace’s hand, not even sure if he would accept that gesture of support. His gaze still didn’t meet mine, but his hand was warm and solid, and he tightened his grip as we interlaced our fingers.

“I was about nine, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been drinking, so, I dunno. I guess that made it easy to knock him down. I don’t even remember gettin’ the gun that he kept in the nightstand, but I remember tellin’ the cops that he’d come to the house and broken in, and that’s why he was there. ’Course, the cops didn’t give a shit about the how. Apparently, he had a few warrants out. They’d had eyes on him for dealin’ and pimpin’. Didn’t give a shit if he was alive or dead, as long as he wasn’t a problem for them anymore. And of course my mom…”

I clenched my jaw, blinking hard and willing my tears away.

“She was on drugs, so they didn’t consider her situation before taking you away from her,” I said softly.

He nodded, one quick jerk of his head.

“Yeah. I was put into foster care after that. No prosecutor was going to waste time and money on a poor piece of shit killing off another piece of shit, least of all when the killer was barely more than a child. But the people at the foster home knew who I was and knew what I did. Heard the social worker who dropped me off call me a ‘little reaper,’ and the nickname stuck.”

There was a hitch in his voice that I had never heard from Kace before. A vulnerability that usually wasn’t attached to a man like him. I reached out, brushing my fingers along his cheek.

“I hate that fuckin’ nickname,” he continued, his face contorting in anger. “But I guess it fits. ’Cause every time I see someone I give a shit about gettin’ hurt by someone—especially someone bigger and stronger than them—I can’t help but feel the way I did the night I killed my old man. I don’t regret takin’ him out. He would’ve gotten worse as time went on… I know it. I know it was the right thing. I just hate that my mom ended up suffering for it too. I hate that we got all this shit hanging over us because of Flint. I hate that goin’ up against that fucker Eli today is probably gonna blow up in my face too. But I don’t regret it. I can’t.”

I nodded. Then I tugged on his hand as I stopped walking, urging him to stop too. When he turned to me, I wrapped my arms around him, rising up on my tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I understand,” I murmured, kissing him again.

It was just a small press of my lips to his, but I hoped it could communicate everything I was feeling.

“Do you?” he asked. He pulled away a few inches, his hands resting on my hips, and I could see his pulse throbbing in his neck. “I killed someone. I killed my father. Ain’t like my mom was a walk in the park either, but I tried.”

“You were a kid, Kace,” I said. “A kid who was scared and who only knew that someone who should’ve been taking care of you and your mom was hurting the both of you. You weren’t responsible for anything that happened. I’m just… sorry you think that that’s the only thing that defines you when there’s so much more to you.”

“Is there?” He looked down at me, the question serious. “You said it yourself that I’m always doin’ this. Always gettin’ into fights.”

“Yeah.” I grinned lightly, tightening my hold on him, emotions bursting in my chest. “Because you are. But that doesn’t mean that that’s the only thing worthy about you, Kace.”