Wild Girl (Slateview High 2)

Kace’s comment came with no emotion, and bile burned its way up my throat. I couldn’t even guess how he was feeling, or whether he felt anything at all. His nickname at Slateview High was Reaper, but I hadn’t known how accurate that name was until now.

He’s not a killer though. That’s not all there is to him.

No matter how much Kace might try to convince himself of that, no matter how much he might try to turn off his emotions and see the world through cold, emotionless eyes, I had seen another side of him. A part that cared deeply and loved fiercely.

But maybe that was the part that had pushed him to squeeze the trigger.

The boys went back and forth, talking in low, urgent voices, and I tried to get my own head together—tried to think of my own suggestions to make. I wanted desperately to be of some help since I had caused this problem to begin with. Kace had been the one to shoot Flint, but he’d only done it because the lecherous man had been threatening me.

I had made a stupid, desperate decision that had almost cost me my own life.

“We better do this now,” Bishop said, nodding decisively. “Come on; Kace, you come with me. Misael, stay here.”

“No problem, Bish.”

Something clicked as I registered movement in the shadowy room, as I focused on my surroundings and truly thought about what was going on around me. Bishop was moving. Kace was nearing the door. Misael was beside me.

No. This isn’t right.

I needed to do something.

“Wait—” My voice cracked as I spoke. It was the first word I had truly uttered since the attack.

All three of the boys paused, their broad shoulders bunched with tension. Kace’s light blond hair stood out in the dark room, and his eyes glittered as he turned back to me. Bishop’s face was set in a grim mask, and although he’d hesitated at the sound of my voice, I could see him practically vibrating with energy, with the urge to stride out the door and get moving.

To take care of this.

To fix this, like he always did.

“I can help,” I said, the plea in my voice settling thick on my tongue. “I can help, or explain—it wasn’t your fault. You wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for me. If I hadn’t—”

My muscles protested the movement as I surged to my feet, and Misael reached me in two long strides, wrapping his arms around me to keep me upright as my legs threatened to give out. He pressed a hand to the back of my head, smoothing down my wild blonde hair and turning us slightly to look toward the other two boys. Bishop’s gaze shifted from Misael’s face to mine, then he gave a nod.

“We’ll be back soon, Coralee. Then we’ll talk.”

It was Kace who lingered even as Bishop left. There was a stricken pull to his face—a regret so deeply embedded in his expression that it pained me. He said nothing as he turned away and followed Bish out the door.

My heart, which had been thudding hard against my chest like a trapped bird, suddenly seemed to slow to a crawl, hesitating between each beat as if it was about to give out. I slumped against Misael, my head spinning and my chest aching.

“I… I’m sorry…”

“Hey.” Misael kept his arms around me, as much to comfort me as to ground me. His addictive, musky clove scent tickled my nostrils as his breath stirred my hair. “Hey. You don’t have to apologize for anything. You did nothing wrong—”

“Yes, I did.” My voice was still raspy, but it gained strength as my self-recrimination sharpened my focus. “God, I was so stupid. I thought he might be able to help me, but he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, and now…”

“And now, we’re making sure we take care of you,” he murmured, sitting back down on the rickety metal chair they had deposited me on when we’d first arrived in the room. He brought me with him, settling me onto his lap with his arms encasing me, making me feel small and protected.

“We’re always going to do that,” he added. “Alright?”

I wanted to cry. I felt the tears sting at the corners of my eyes. Even after my reckless stupidity had gotten the three boys into this mess, here Misael was, comforting me. It made my heart swell with emotions, gratitude and guilt warring inside me and making it hard to breathe.

He held me, letting the warmth of his body bleed into mine, until I stopped shaking. I could feel his heart beating evenly in his chest, and the steady rhythm comforted me as much as his touch did.

Finally, I pushed against his chest lightly, and he loosened his hold, gazing down at me with serious dark eyes.

“Is there somewhere I can clean off?” I asked, my voice gravelly. “I… I think I just really want that right now.”

He nodded and took my hand, helping me to my feet. This building, like the old warehouse that was the boys’ favorite haunt, was completely out of use. The electricity was off, but the plumbing still seemed to work just fine, as Misael brought me into a bathroom that had warm, clean running water.