by Sam Crescent
Watching the cop note down everything he said, he waited for his friends to be done. Their parents didn’t come to pick them up, not like other kids.
A dead kid in a lake wasn’t noteworthy to their power-hungry parents. Especially as Carla Smith was nothing. She didn’t have any prospects other than her high grades. Her parents worked at a local diner. Her house was small, more like an apartment.
So, to everyone he knew, she didn’t matter.
Climbing into his car, he didn’t need to tell his friends where they were going. King’s Ridge only had one place for them to go, and that was their hangout at the fighters’ ring. They organized all the fights, all the parties, and they had the run of the place.
Pulling his Ferrari 599 GTO onto the main road, heading out of King’s Ridge, he saw his friends doing the same.
Smirking, Axton overtook a small campervan and followed the road. He loved his car, especially as it had been a present for his seventeenth birthday. His dad offered to get him a replacement for his eighteenth, but there was something about this car. He didn’t know what it was, only that nothing else would ever compare to the feel of this beauty. To him, it was his car, and he knew how to drive it. He knew his braking distance, the speed he could go, and he trusted this machine more than anything else in his world right now.
Following the road, he navigated the traffic, slowing down when necessary, pushing his foot to the gas during a long strip of road, loving the rush that came to him at the prospect that anything could happen within a single second. Like tonight. The party that had turned to shit. Romeo had been trying to get Julia to come and party with them. Not that anything would be done, nope. Several of the chicks at King’s Ridge High School knew the score and loved that they’d been fucked by the four kings.
The security gate to the compound where they dealt with all their fights was open, which wasn’t unusual. Everyone knew to say away from their shit, and not only that, there was security everywhere inside.
Parking, he didn’t wait for the other three to arrive. Climbing out of his car, he headed toward the court that was marked with paint. There was probably blood, piss, and semen on the ground as things always got a little rowdy on these nights. Mix drugs and alcohol with teenage need, and crazy stuff happened.
“What the fuck just happened?” Romeo asked, the first to join him.
“Wait for the others.”
“They were too busy jerking off to overtake the camper van. They were a couple minutes back.”
“Then we wait.” He folded his arms as Romeo lit up a cigarette. Smoking was something that didn’t appeal to Axton in the slightest.
“You’re not a little bit spooked by what just fucking happened?”
“Do I look like it?” He stared at his friend, waiting for a response.
Romeo just shook his head. “I don’t know what’s with you, man.”
Axton was saved from answering as Karson and Easton finally turned up. He stared at all three of them. Romeo and Easton were a lot alike, tending to be the two that chased the chicks and did their pranks. He and Karson had stared death in the face and knew the world wasn’t all sunshine and roses.
All four of them had families that weren’t exactly good. They thrived on being the best by making sure people feared them and were willing to do anything to keep their power. His father had taught him from a young age to make others fear him, to be willing to do everything that kept them alive. Lie, cheat, fucking, anything that kept them all on top. So many secrets, so many lies, blackmail all of it. He knew, and he intended to keep this power because if it fell in the wrong hands, people would die.
“What the fuck, man?” Easton said. “You saw that. You saw what just happened.”
“Keep your shit together,” Axton said.
“She pulled her out of the fucking water! Carla. You saw her. We all saw it, Axton. There was no getting away from that.”
“She slit her wrists,” Karson said. “Carla killed herself.”
“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t fucking do that. Carla was strong. There’s no fucking way she’d take her own life like that.”
Easton was losing it.
“Nothing happened tonight.”
“You really think I’m going to believe that, Axton? Shit, you knew what was happening. What I was waiting for. I told you.”
“And now you don’t tell anyone,” Axton said. “She killed herself.”
“She didn’t fucking kill herself, Axton. You all know that. You know she was pregnant with my fucking baby!” Easton stormed up to him, swearing, cursing, pissed off. Axton expected it. “My baby. My kid, and now she’s gone. Fucking gone. You made me stand back and watch as Taylor tried to help her. You saw her. She jumped into that frozen fucking lake, and you made me watch.”
“As far as anyone knows, she killed herself, and you can’t change that.”
Easton threw the first punch. “Fuck you. Who made you the fucking boss?”
Axton smirked. He’d been expecting that all night. The pain meant nothing to him. He’d dealt with far harder fighters than Easton. Sure, his friend could hold his own, but out of the four of them, Easton wasn’t the fighter.
Reaching out, Axton wrapped his fingers around Easton’s throat. Karson and Romeo knew to keep out of this. He wouldn’t hurt his friend.
They were the only people he trusted in the world, even before his own parents. They all had a pact to stay together, to fight together, and it would be like that for the rest of their lives. Nothing came between them. Not money, or drugs, or pussy. It was as simple as that.
“You want to hurt me, that’s fine. Fucking hurt me, Easton. I get it. You hate me. You want to fucking kill me. That feeling is not going to go away. Carla Smith killed herself, and you better hope nothing falls back on you. You think someone is going to let this slide? You’re one of the biggest names in town, and all it takes is for the wrong person to get ahold of the facts, and you’re someone’s bitch in jail. You want that?”
“No,” Easton said, gripping his arm. “Did you kill her?”
Axton squeezed just a little tighter.
“Like you said, she was a fucking useless whore. That I shouldn’t be spending the time with her. I liked her, Axton. Liked her a whole hell of a lot.”
“And that liking got her killed, Easton. Think about that. Remember that.”
“Like you remember that?” Easton asked.
He released his friend, stepping aside.
“What do you need us to do?” Karson asked.
“You know they’re going to try to figure out why she killed herself.”
“And they’ll discover a miserable teenager. Nothing more.”
Easton spat on the ground.
“You going to say something more? You want it to be known that hours before she killed herself, she saw you?” Axton asked.
“Fuck you. Fuck all of you and fuck our fathers. They don’t have control over me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Axton said.
Easton wasn’t listening. He’d already walked away, and Axton watched him go.
“I guess that’s my cue to go and make sure he doesn’t throw himself off a cliff,” Romeo said, taking off.
“What went wrong?” Karson asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t kill her, did you?”
Axton didn’t answer. “Make sure her locker is decorated. The usual shit when something bad happens.”
“What about Taylor?”
“What about her?” Axton asked.
“You think she’s just going to let this go? She’s not going to ask questions?”
“If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay well away.” He walked away, heading back to his car. Climbing inside, he didn’t look back. Karson would close up.
There was shit he wanted to do all the time, but right now, he couldn’t just drive away. Responsibility was a pain in the fucking ass. The drive helped him to clear his
head. To think about everything that had gone on tonight. Drinking beer, watching chicks dance or be on their cell phones. Hearing Taylor’s sudden scream. The ensuing chaos as she dragged her own friend out of the lake. It would stay with him for a long time. Carla shouldn’t have been at the lake. Easton and his fucking infatuations with cheap bitches were starting to make life fucking hard. No matter what Easton tried to do, Carla would never be one of them. Pregnant or not.
He shouldn’t have chased after the bitch, and yet he had. Now his mess had to be cleaned up.
Axton pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. If life was different then Carla would still be alive, but life wasn’t different. It was very fucking evil, and it was filled with monsters.
He knew because he was one. Rather than hide it though, he wore it like a suit of armor. No one dared to challenge him.
He was a king, and he made sure everyone knew it. There wasn’t any room for weakness in his world.
Arriving home, he noticed Easton’s father’s car parked in the driveway. This wasn’t unusual, but after the night he’d experienced, he’d had a feeling this would happen.
Climbing out of his car, Axton made his way inside, and went straight to his father’s office. The door was closed, and he opened it up.
While other kids had parents come to collect them, he had a call from his father ordering him to deal with it. By dealing with it, he meant talking to the cops, containing Easton, and then making sure nothing came back on them.
Leaning against the office door, he watched as his father screwed the maid that had started a week ago. She was a small thing, kind of dainty, but with a world of knowledge behind her gaze. Within two hours of her working for them, she’d let him know exactly how available she was. He didn’t have any interest in the women in his father fucked. Axton was sure his mother wasn’t too far away, probably spending money while drinking the most expensive wine. Benjamin Farris could have his little whores, so long as he knew how to pay his way. This was the life he’d been born into.
It didn’t even surprise him to see Nial Long, Easton’s father, standing in front of the woman, screwing her mouth.
At a young age, Axton had been ordered to fuck several whores, which included the maids. His father didn’t want a pussy for a son, so he made sure to present him with all the women money could offer. Axton played his part well, and soon he wouldn’t have to play this game.
The four kings had a plan, which had already been set in motion by all of their trust funds. None of them wanted to be under their fathers’ control for much longer, so Axton had set the wheels in motion that would guarantee the Four Kings’ Empire fell to them.
The moment his father saw him, the fucking stopped.
He didn’t say anything to the maid as she passed, holding her clothes to her body.
“What you had to say couldn’t wait?” Benjamin asked.
“I have stuff to do as well.” Axton folded his arms. “Easton should be home.” He glared at the other man, not wanting him here. Out of all of their parents, Nial was the one he didn’t like. He was a piece of shit, hiding behind security and the four kings’ name. Axton had seen firsthand what that man was capable of, the damage he’d caused to many families by being the asshole that he was.
“I’ll be going,” Nial said.
Axton didn’t say a word as he waited for the room to clear. The moment it was, he looked at his father, who had already sat down, lighting a cigar. “You talked to the cops.”
“They’ve put it down as a suicide.”
“And that is exactly what it is, Axton. I told you there would be things you’d have to do. Sacrifices that needed to be made and it is all for the greater good.”
He chuckled. “This is no greater good. This is just power.”
“Cannot have the kings divided. I told you that.”
“There are a lot of things you tell us. Don’t always listen to them.”
“One day you’ll know what it means, Axton. You’ll feel that power in your hands, hold it in your palm, like a piece of fruit, and only when you’re ready will you squash it.”
Staring at the arousal in his father’s gaze sickened him, but he didn’t show it. He’d witnessed that power play many times in this very office. Some of the women his father liked to fuck, and they’d end up pregnant, he’d hold their lives in his very grip, and little by little, he’d make them beg for their lives.
He had learned from the best.
Knew all the tricks.
“Are we done?” Axton asked.
“She had to go, son. You know that. She made the collective weak.”
Axton didn’t say anything in response, simply walked away. What more was there to say? An innocent girl died tonight, and there was no rewriting that.
Chapter Two
Two weeks later
Taylor knocked on Carla’s parents’ door. It had been two weeks since Carla had taken her own life, and it was still so surreal to still be coming around.
She’d been told to take it one day at a time.
So easy to say.
One day at a time.
Fourteen days had gone already, and nothing felt right.
So many questions were still there and no way of anyone answering. The cops had questioned her about Carla’s cell phone, which had gone missing, and about what she’d seen, how she’d gotten her out. How she’d been at school? That cell phone had been in Taylor’s hands, and now it was gone. No one had seen it.
According to the cops, Carla had been seeing a counselor, who had mentioned severe depression and anxiety.
None of it made any sense.
Carla never went to the damn counselor. She didn’t go to any school activity. Taylor and Carla had always hung out together after school, either going shopping, or doing their homework.
She’d not been sick or sad.
They’d been like any other teenage girls.
Apart from the last weeks that Carla was alive. She’d been different but not suicidal. Wouldn’t she know that? Wouldn’t she have seen?
The door opened, and she was pulled out of her thoughts to see Carla’s mother.
“Hey, Trudy,” she said.
“Taylor, it’s good to see you.”
She hugged the other woman, who’d been like a second mother to her.
“I’m so sorry for stopping by.”
“It’s fine. It’s fine. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I can’t go back there. My parents are setting everything up for me to stay home for a little while. There’s too many memories, you know.” She bit her lip because she stood in the doorway of Carla’s home.
“I understand, completely. It just seems … surreal she’s not here.”
“I know this is rude, but … I think I left something upstairs in her room. I understand if you don’t want me to go in there.”
“No, no, it’s fine. You can go to Carla’s room. I know you won’t ruin anything. I … I can’t bring myself to change anything, you know. It still smells like her. Would you like a drink?”
“Yes, I’d love one.”
“Go on, sweetie. I’ll get us a drink.”
She made her way upstairs, taking her time. Scared of what she’d feel. Standing outside Carla’s room, she reached up, touching Carla’s name. This room had been her friend’s all of her life. The mini-chalkboard outside had stayed the same with Carla writing her name as she grew up. There was a heart at the end of her name.
“Don’t you think that’s a little childish?” Taylor asked.
“Nah, come on. Okay, it’s a little childish, but I love it. I can see how good my writing is. Look.” She finished her name with the final curve of a heart. “See, perfect.”
Pulling out of the memory, Taylor found this happening more and more at odd times. She’d been standing with her parents at the supermarket just last night when she’d gotten a carton of ice cream and recalled their argument when they were twelve about the best flavors in
the world.
They were just that, memories.
Times they’d shared together that she’d taken for granted.
So many plans and nothing they’d done about it.
When she opened the door, tears flooded her eyes at the sweet scent that so reminded her of Carla. Stepping inside the room, she closed the door and took a deep breath.
The room was small, with a tiny closet.
“One day I’m going to have a huge walk-in, one where I can have shoes, and everything be color-coordinated.”
It was like Carla stood with her in the room. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Taylor took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Nothing made sense to her.
Carla wouldn’t hurt herself. She just wouldn’t.
“What happened to you?” she asked. Pushing some of her black hair off her face, she wiped the tears from her eyes and stepped up to her friend’s bag. Lifting it off the floor, she rested the bag on the bed, ignoring the small brown stuffed bear named Snuffles that lay against the sheets. Pulling out her school books, she looked through them, seeing the notes taken for each of their classes.
Once she’d gone through the bag, she placed everything back and glanced behind her.
Carla’s desk stood opposite. Taylor ignored her own reflection, already knowing she looked a mess from lack of sleep. Each night she went to sleep, she’d wake up screaming. The dream was always the same—Carla in the lake, begging for help, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t save her.
Opening several drawers, she saw tampons, makeup, notepads, pens, nothing out of the ordinary. Then, remembering Carla’s secret, she turned back to the closet.
“Mom is so worried about everything to do with having a teenager, she goes through everything. My desk, my bed, everything. Nothing is sacred.”
“How do you keep things private then?”
“This.”
Moving toward the closet, she opened it up, and pushed the clothing out of the way. Running her hand over the wall, she pressed in until one of the pieces of wood gave way, and there was the book, hidden away.
Carla’s secret.
The diary that contained the mystery of her friend. She stepped back, tucking some hair behind her ear, and opened up the book. The last date that had any writing was the day she died.