by Hannah Gray
I haven’t had anything to eat or drink in two days. I knew the risk of going out there while his friends were over, but I chose to do it anyway. And now, I’m going to pay for it.
“Hey, you guysss.” My dad smiles a sick, demented smile. Showing all of the teeth he’s lost since he started putting that stuff into his arm. “Want to play a game called Who Can Land a Knife the Closest to the Disrespectful Kid Without Killing Him?” He laughs a raspy smoker’s laugh before grabbing me by my dirty T-shirt and throwing me against the wall.
Leaning down, he puts his nose to mine and points his bony finger. “Stand still, boy. Or you will die.”
One lady tries to stop it. She comes here now and then, and she’s nice to me. Sometimes, she even brings me a Nutty Bar and leaves it outside of my door. She uses the poison too. I’ve seen her do it. But the poison doesn’t make her mean like it does to my dad.
“Ralph, no. Don’t be fucking stupid,” she yells to my dad, blowing smoke from her cigarette out of her mouth and into the air.
“Shut the fuck up, Vick,” he yells over his shoulder as he digs knives out of the drawer.
Stepping in front of him, she tries to grab the knives. “No! I won’t let—”
Grabbing her by her throat, he shoves her against the refrigerator. As he continues to squeeze, her face begins to turn blue, and her cigarette falls to the floor.
Finally, he releases her, sending her into a pile on the floor at his feet. She coughs and wheezes. I should probably go see if she’s okay. That’s what a good boy would do, but I’m too scared. Scared of my dad and his other friends.
He kicks her once before turning toward his mangy-looking friends. “Get her the fuck out of here. And tell her to never come back.”
Her eyes are barely open, yet they find mine for a brief moment as they carry her toward the door. She mouths something. I think she says that she’s sorry. But it’s okay. She tried to stop my daddy. That’s more than anyone else has ever done for me. Besides, she brings me Nutty Bars. Nobody has ever done that before.
Pointing the knife at me, my dad snarls, “This will teach you to hold still, you good-for-nothing sack of shit.”
Positioning himself in front of me, he drives a knife up and reaches his arm back.
I’m scared. I’m so scared. I’m eight years old, and my own father is going to treat me like a human dartboard. But if I don’t stand here, he might kill me. He has threatened to before.
I should be brave, not a baby. I should be a big boy and not be scared. But I don’t want to die. I want to play football.
He tries to keep his eyes open, but because of the drugs, it isn’t easy.
The same time the knife flies out of his hand, I turn to run away. Feeling the blade pierce the skin on the bottom right side of my back, I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that it hurts, and I pray that an angel comes to my rescue.
Maybe not today. But one day in the future.
“Cole! Cole!” Ally shakes me. “Wake up. You’re okay. Shh, you’re all right. It’s all right.”
It always takes me a few minutes to form a thought after I dream of the day my own father tried to kill me. This is a dream I typically have once or twice a month. Ally is used to it though. She’s been around long enough to know these nightmares are something I deal with.
She knows how I got my scar and who gave it to me. That’s why she never touches me there. But she also knows that the memory of it isn’t something I want to revisit often. So, she never pushes me to talk about it.
We both have dark parts of our childhood that we like to keep buried. We unveil secrets when they are weighing us down, yet we also understand that some things are too painful to say out loud. Even so, we hold on to each other during the times when our monsters come back to haunt us. That’s what makes our relationship so sacred.
“I’m all right,” I tell her before pulling her on top of me. “I’m all right now.”
Pressing her forehead to mine, she sighs. “Is there anything I can do?”
I shake my head once. “Just be here with me. That’s enough to help.”
Throwing her arms around me, her tiny body hugs me as tightly as it possibly can. “I’m right here.”
I thank the fucking Lord that she is. Because having Ally around makes even the worst days better. But there’s a part of me holding my breath, scared shitless that she’s going to leave … again.
sixteen
Cole
“Where the fuck did you take off to last night?” Knox gripes during practice the next day.
“You did take off rather suddenly, man,” Weston chirps up. “What, did you find yourself a sweet little something to take home?”
Lifting my shirt up, I wipe my face. It’s fucking hot out here today, and my friends are nosy.
But I’m glad I left. Not only did I get to sink myself deep into Ally again, which is worth far more than going to a party, but also, apparently, some of the guys on the team got into a fight at the party last night, and word got back to Coach. And now … well, now, I’m pretty fucking positive he’s going to run us until we die.
“I had something to take care of,” I huff out. “I’m glad I wasn’t there. Sounds like it was a fucking mess.”
Knox nods, his eyes wide. “You fucking know it, bud. Straight-up fucking shitshow is what it was.”
“What the hell happened anyway?” I ask him just as Coach blows the whistle. “Fuck. Back to running, I’m sure.”
We make our way back over to Coach as Weston scowls.
“A few of our teammates fought some of the baseball players,” Weston gripes. “Fucking idiots.”
“Were either of you involved?” I shoot them a hard look.
They both hold up their hands.
“Fuck no. We stayed the hell out of that disaster,” Weston says.
“One of the fellas on the baseball team diddled Dex’s girl.” Knox shrugs. “Guess Sexy Dexy was mad.”
“Diddled?” I shake my head. “The fuck does that even mean?”
“Means he gave her the meat. You know, the D,” Knox says, serious as can be.
“I can fucking hear you, asshole,” Dex growls from behind us.
“My bad, man. She was probably a lousy fuck anyway. You’re way better off without her,” Knox tells him.
I wait for Dex to punch him in the face. Only he doesn’t. He just grumbles.
“Dude, why not just say fucked?” I laugh at his word choice of diddled.
He shrugs. “In Maine, we say diddled. Besides, it’s less crude, ain’t it?”
I can’t help the stupid-ass grin that spreads across my face. “I mean, yeah, I guess. But since when are you concerned about being crude?”
That fucker is one of the crudest dudes I know.
We stand there, waiting for Coach to tell us to run, and I’m just counting my lucky stars for this short break. He has half of the guys puking.
“Guess you have yourself a point there, ol’ boy,” Knox answers nonchalantly. “But back to you. Where were you last night?”
“Sloane told me that Ally was working. I know she doesn’t have a car, so I didn’t want her walking home in the dark.”
He smirks and looks at Weston. “Bet he got some good ol’ lovin’ for being such a gentleman. What do you think?”
Weston laughs. “Nah. If it’s the girl from the diner, she definitely told him to go fuck himself.” Looking at me, he crosses his arms over his chest. “That chick don’t play. I was a little frightened of her myself.”
“Same.” Knox nods. “Then again, she’s hot as fuck. I’d let her punish me.”
“Watch yourself,” I growl. “You like running, right? So, you really don’t need your legs broken.”
Best friends or not, they will know better than to talk about my girl that way.
Just then, Coach yells, “Back to work, boys. You want to go act big and tough, fighting and shit? Well then, be prepared to run. Head back to the field for round two.”
>
Glancing at the scoreboard clock, I see it reads four o’clock. Ally is working a double today. She won’t even get out until eight tonight after being there at six this morning.
“Hey,” I yell to my roommates as we make our way back onto the field. “Can one of you pick me up at Lenny’s after practice?”
“Yeah?” Confused, Knox says, “Why though?”
I know I’ll catch shit when I tell him my plan, but I don’t really give a fuck.
“I’m going to drop my truck off there. Don’t need Ally walking home late,” I tell him.
I’d offer to get her, but we have a team dinner tonight as a bonding exercise. I’d not go, but because I’m the one who planned it, I can’t ditch just to give Ally a ride.
“Ohh shiiiit. Storm is whiiiipped!” he yells obnoxiously to Weston, who pretends to be holding a whip in his hand.
“Oh, fuck off. You’re just pissed because Blondie saw how small your dick was and ran away,” I say to Knox.
“Yeah, right. She hasn’t seen my dick yet. If she had, she’d be texting and calling nonstop.” He tries to laugh it off, but I’m sure I struck a nerve. He was interested in that girl, and she didn’t give him the time of day. Nudging me, he grins. “And if she had touched it, well, fuck, man, she’d be stalking me.”
“Keep telling yourself that, man,” I say, shaking my head.
I’m sure it seems like overkill, letting Ally use my new truck. But she isn’t just some random chick. She’s Ally. She’s my family. She probably won’t take me doing this lightly. It’ll just be another way she thinks I’m taking her independence away. But that isn’t it. She’s mine to take care of, just like I’m hers. If I needed something, she’d be there, no questions asked.
It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t think we’re actually together right now. Besides, soon enough, we will be.
Coach blows his whistle, and no matter how much I don’t want to run, I know I’ll see her face when I drop my truck off, so that makes this punishment a little less shitty.
Ally
Today has been crazy at Lenny’s. Sundays are always our biggest days. Lots of families going out to breakfast and lunch. But now that I’m going on hour eleven of being on my feet, I’m fucking tired. But my pocket is filled with cash from tips, making the long-ass day worth it.
“Al,” Lenny says while looking out the front window, “that nobody boy is back.”
Knowing exactly who he’s talking about, I walk over to stand next to Lenny to see what he sees.
Cole steps down from his truck. Knox pulls up next to him with a guy in the passenger seat, who I learned is Weston.
My frosty heart melts a little as I watch Cole strut toward the front door.
My God, he’s sexy.
All of the memories of what we did last night play through my mind. It felt so good to be with him again. My insides flutter like a little bitch at the images.
Opening the door, he spots me right away. Flashing me one of those signature grins, he comes to me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
I know last night, I had a moment of weakness and jumped his bones, basically begging him to screw me. Talk about embarrassing.
But that doesn’t mean we can jump right back in, does it? No, there’s no way we’re ready to just be together. I mean, aside from together in a sexual way. And I should really try to put the brakes on even that. But he makes it so goddamn hard not to want to turn into a damn porn star when he’s around.
Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, he uses his free hand to hold out a set of keys, placing them in the palm of my hand.
“What is this?” I glance down, confused.
“My truck keys.”
“Why?”
“Because even though I’d love to pick you up from work, I have a team dinner in the cafeteria at seven, so I doubt I’ll be done in time.”
Looking up at him, I narrow my eyes. “I have legs. They can even move. Which means”—I try to sound surprised—“I can even walk!”
“Quit being a pain in the ass. Besides, I gave you what you asked for last night.” His eyes glimmer with amusement along with something else. Something dirty. “This is what I’m asking for. For you to just drive my truck and not walk in the fucking dark.”
“Cole …” I sigh, looking at the keys.
Reaching down, he rubs his thumb against my cheek, causing my traitorous body to lean closer to his touch. “Please. I don’t want you out there, walking at night. Could be a bogeyman or some shit.”
“A bogeyman?” I laugh.
He shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Or Sasquatch. Haven’t you ever seen Finding Bigfoot? That shit is real.”
Looking down at the keys again, I sigh. “This is really thoughtful of you, but I’m okay to walk. This truck is big and expensive. Very, very expensive.”
“I’m sure the new Mom and Pops have decent insurance. Which is probably good since, well, your driving is shit,” he whispers the last part, widening his eyes.
“Oh, piss off. You’re the one who ran into the neighbor’s mailbox,” I point out.
“I did do that. Thankfully, she was a pervy, old woman with tits down to her knees, and she liked the looks of me.”
I laugh at the memory. That old woman was obsessed with Cole. Good thing, too, because it saved his ass from getting into trouble for taking out her mailbox. All he had to do was flash her a few grins, help her move some stuff around her house—shirtless—and the mailbox was long forgotten.
“At least I wasn’t like you.” He nods his chin at me. “You backed into Natasha Hill’s BMW.”
I totally forgot about that. Cole had an old piece-of-junk truck that he had saved all of his money from working in the tattoo shop to buy. The one time I finally dared to drive it, I ran into none other than Charlotte’s Fall’s very own mean girl, Natasha Hill.
“Shh,” I say, looking around. “Nobody ever found out it was me.”
That girl had already hated me. She had the hots for Cole, and, well, I was standing in her way.
“We’re a long way away from Charlotte’s Falls, sweetheart. Don’t think you have to worry about anyone finding out about the shit we did.”
“I guess you’re right.” I smile at him, thinking back to all the memories we had in that town. I might have left that place on a bad note, but I also had a lot of really happy times there too.
“Please take my truck. I’ll walk to your dorm after the dinner and pick it up. If you aren’t home yet, I’ll wait outside.”
I ponder on debating it further, but I know this is a losing battle. Cole doesn’t take no for an answer.
“All right, fine.” I give in. “Thank you, Cole.”
It would seem so natural to lean up and plant my lips against his mouth right now. It would be so comfortable and familiar.
He showed up here to let me take his very nice, very expensive AF truck home, knowing I am likely the world’s shittiest driver. But he did it anyway. No, demanded it. He’s swoonworthy—no doubt about that. He’s always loved doing kind things for me. Though he never had a role model to show him how to be good, he learned it on his own. When I say most guys his age aren’t half the man he is, I mean it. One hundred and ten percent.
When I first got my period, without asking, he ran to the drugstore in town and got me tampons and pads—he wasn’t sure which I needed. I swear he spent his entire earnings that week on just feminine products.
And one time, when I got a nasty stomach bug and puked for two days straight, he never left my side. Not once. He even held my hair while I threw up and forced me to drink Gatorade, so I wasn’t dehydrated. He’s everything in a man that any girl could ever want.
Yet somehow, here at Brooks, it no longer feels like it’s us against the world. It feels like it’s the entire campus standing with him. And I’m awkwardly off to the side, trying to find where I fit.
My whole life, I always felt like I had been born at the wrong place, at the
wrong time. I felt like I didn’t belong where I was. I didn’t belong anywhere at all. But when I met him, although I still felt like I didn’t exactly belong in this world, I harmonize with him. It sounds crazy, I’m sure. But for me, my mom dying was one of those everything happens for a reason moments. If she hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have moved in with Marion and Dave. And if I hadn’t moved in with them, I wouldn’t have met Cole.
Truthfully, I’d choose him over my mother—my own blood—any day of the week. And seeing as I don’t even have a clue who my dad is, I’d take Cole over that guy too.
“You can repay me later.” He winks.
“Perv.” I grin.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, babe. I don’t want you to fuck me. I want you to sing for me. It’s been too damn long since I’ve heard your voice doing what it was born to do.” With that, he turns and walks off.
I watch as he struts out to Knox’s truck. All six-two, two hundred pounds of solid muscle. He’s beautiful.
Really fucking beautiful.
Last night felt like old times with Cole. It finally seemed like we were connected once again, like we used to be. He knows my body as well as I do. And I could sketch his with my eyes closed.
It’s odd. I expected that once we were intimate again, the floodgates of bad memories would come rushing in. But they didn’t. In fact, it just felt really damn good to be held by someone who I know loves me. Heart, soul—everything. I’m not pretending to be anything with him—he knows it all. Even the darkest, ugliest parts of my being, he’s seen them. Yet he loves me anyway.
There’s never been a doubt in my mind that he doesn’t love me. I know he does. Things are just messy. And the worst part is, he doesn’t even know why. He knows I’m different, and he knows something happened. But he has no idea what. I know eventually, I’ll need to tell him. But I haven’t got a fucking clue how I’m going to do that. It will be so hard to bring up. And the last thing I want to do is taint him with my words.
“The nobody boy left minutes ago. You can wipe that drool off of your lip, Al,” Lenny says from behind me.
Whirling around, I flick him off. “Oh, cut it out, Len.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Or else I’ll tell those old biddies who come in here just for you that you were asking about them.”