by Rina Kent
I follow his instructions, inhaling and exhaling as slowly as I can. When I can speak, I blurt, “Xan disappeared into the forest, Uncle. I can’t find him.”
“Disappeared how?”
“He was searching for Luna,” I sob. “But she’s already home.”
“Okay, I’m sure he didn’t go far. Breathe, Kim.”
I nod frantically. “Please find him.”
I’ll do his homework for a year. I’ll give him all my M&M’s and even clean his room.
As long as he comes back, I’ll do anything for him.
“Angel?”
My breath hitches at Dad’s voice. He crosses the street as his driver closes the door.
If Dad is already home, that means it’s getting late.
Uncle Lewis straightens as Dad reaches us. My daddy is tall with sandy blond hair and rich brown eyes and he looks like the models from Silver’s magazines. He’s wearing his perfect suit that Marian spends a lot of time perfecting.
“Daddy!” I hug his waist, ruining his suit with my tears. “Please find Xan.”
“What happened to Xan?” His gaze strays from me to Uncle Lewis. They exchange a look I don’t understand as I repeat the gibberish from earlier.
“It’s my fault,” I cry. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t say that, Angel.” Dad strokes my hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead. “Let’s find him and I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”
“I’m sure,” Uncle Lewis echoes with a smile.
The three of us go back to the forest and search together. We go to where Xan and I were and try to cover the directions he could’ve taken.
All the way, I cry as Dad and Uncle Lewis tell me it’s okay and that we’ll find him.
We don’t.
The late afternoon turns into dusk and soon enough, the night starts to fall.
I don’t stop crying. Every time the tears begin to dry up, I think about the amount of fear Xander must be in and then a new wave hits me.
What have I done? What have I done?
“I’ll take Kim home,” Dad tells Uncle Lewis.
“What? No!” I shriek. “I’m not leaving until I find Xan.”
“Maybe he went to his house.”
“Ahmed would’ve called Uncle Lewis if he had,” I insist.
Dad hugs me to his side as he addresses Uncle Lewis, “Call the police. This could be another case like the other time.”
“I doubt it. He wasn’t the target back then, Aiden was.” Uncle Lewis sighs, his gaze straying towards me. “But yes, take Kim home. It’s getting cold.”
I struggle against Dad as he tries to drag me away. “No, Daddy. I have to find him.”
“You can’t, Angel.” Dad’s jaw tightens under the late dusk sun and I don’t know why that makes me cry harder.
I wiggle free from his hold before he can trap me in again.
“Kim!” he calls and his footsteps sound behind me.
No idea where I’m running, but I don’t stop.
I trip and slide down a small hill. My knee burns and stings, but I stand up and continue running.
“Xaaan!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I’m crying and running and heaving.
It’s almost like that time when Nana left me and I knew I’d never see her again.
Only, now, it’s worse because I’m the reason behind his disappearance.
I’m the reason he’s lost somewhere unknown while he’s cold and alone.
“Xan!” Something cuts into my ankle, but I keep running and calling his name.
Is this how he felt when his Mum got into that car and drove away? When she never looked behind as she left him?
A sob tears from my throat as I stand there, my chest heaving so hard, as if my heartbeat will come to halt any second now.
Just when I’m about to stop and let Dad catch me and take me home, I spot a figure by the cliff.
The denim jacket and the golden hair, the tall body and scrawny build.
It’s him.
At first, I think he’s staring down the cliff. But instead, he’s facing me, a hand in his pocket and his expression blank, haunted even.
His blue eyes are the emptiest I’ve seen since the day he lost his mum. He’s cold and so hollow, it’s scary.
“Xan!” I sprint towards him, tripping twice, but I manage not to fall to my butt.
I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him so close, I think I may suffocate him. “I’m so sorry, Xan. I didn’t mean to. I’m so, so sorry.”
He places a hand on my chest and shoves me away. It’s so angry and strong, I reel back with the movement.
I deserve that. I’m the one who put him into this in the first place.
I also deserve the deadly glare he’s giving me. Maybe I’ll have to do his homework for two years?
“Stay away from me.” His voice is thick, the harshest I’ve heard him talk.
Okay, so I’ll do the homework for three years.
“I’m so sorry, Xander.”
“Don’t say my name again.” He glares at me. “Don’t talk to me ever again.”
“Xan…” My voice breaks, and I approach him slowly. My heart is on my sleeves and I sniffle as I reach out a tentative hand and clutch the hem of his jacket. “Don’t make me. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do anything as long as you forgive me.”
“Don’t touch me. You’re disgusting.” He shoves me so hard, I fall on my butt on the solid ground.
It doesn’t hurt.
Or it does, but it’s nothing compared to the pain of his words.
Or how I feel when he turns away and leaves, without a glance, without offering me his hand.
He left me.
And never looked back.
That day was the last day I called Xander my friend.
A week later, Luna was hit by a car and died.
Seven years later, the loss of them still beats under my skin, loud, hard, and unbearable.
12
Kimberly
You know that feeling when everything and everyone seems wrong?
You wake up in the morning and instantly wish you hadn’t, or worse, you want a redo of your entire life.
It’s the stuff people go to therapists for, and the stuff that keeps people like me up all night, hoping against hope we won’t wake up in the morning altogether.
Only to be disgusted with ourselves after.
That’s how today started, morbid and awful.
I didn’t have my usual happy pill from Kirian, and now, I hate myself for wanting Kir merely to feel better about myself.
Try being a human, Kim.
Not today, brain. Leave me alone.
Like any teenager with issues, plural, I hide from them by sneaking off to the garden. It’s weird how I recognise having issues, but I don’t want to name said issues.
Naming them is taboo. Naming them means I have to get into a rabbit hole of myself and I kind of don’t like that. Myself, I mean.
Today is just too much. Too raw and too real, and I’ve had enough with everything, and everyone.
I bottle it inside the same way any good, typical teenager with issues would.
Mum is lucky to have a daughter like me. I don’t take it out on people or drugs. Parties or boys. I have other purging methods, ones she approves of.
Such as starving myself.
I jab my fork at the bottom of my food container but don’t take a bite of my salad. I’m not in the mood to vomit; it’ll make my stomach way worse.
No, thanks.
If Elsa finds out I bailed out on her and Teal, she’ll be upset, but I don’t want her to see the puffiness under my eyes or the hollowness in them.
No matter how much makeup I put on, I can still feel the tears from last night.
I fell asleep crying after Xander shut me down so harshly. I can still sense the blade, hear the crunch against the bone and feel him twisting it inside.
He didn’t even need a new weapon. He just used that rusty knif
e he left in my heart that day seven years ago.
My lips are still tingling from the way he kissed me, how he grabbed me and held me like we’ll never be apart in any reincarnation.
Then he pushed me. He brought me up for air just so he could drown me all over again.
I stab my fork in a piece of tomato.
I hate him.
I hate him so fucking much.
“What did that food do to you, Kimmy?”
My war against the salad halts for a second as Ronan slides to my side, grinning wide. “There you are.”
“How did you find me?”
“I have special skills, chéri.” He plucks a piece of lettuce, chews on it, then throws it away. “How do you eat this shit?”
It’s simple. I don’t.
“Where were you yesterday, Kimmy? How can you come to my party and not wait for me? Hold on a second…” He looks me up and down as if he can read words on my clothes. “Did you get some?”
Some pushing, some kissing, some M&M’s. Take your pick.
“I’m not you, Ro,” I say instead.
“Of course you’re not. If you were, you would’ve been having fun, not hiding from a certain bastard with repulsive dimples.”
My eyes widen. He knows. How does he know? Am I underestimating how much Ronan is involved under the easy-going façade?
He waves a hand in front of my face. “Why do you look like a rat just died in your lap?”
“Ew, gross.” I hit his shoulder with mine.
“Not more gross than that.” He motions at my plate. “Go out with me and I’ll take you to the best cuisine, and it’s diet-friendly – my mother’s style.”
“Sure.” I smile.
He snaps his fingers. “You just agreed.”
I nod, wondering why he seems so surprised.
“It’s official. We’re going on a date.”
“A d-date?”
“Why do you think I asked you out?”
I stare at him for a second. Ronan has always joked about a threesome of me, him, and Elsa, but that’s all it’s been, jokes.
Why does he seem serious all of a sudden?
“B-but why?” I ask. “You have all the girls and then some.”
“You know, against common belief, I’m a fucking gentleman – unless clowns are involved, I’m not a gentleman then. Fucking creeps. Anyway, I’m doing it for you, Kimmy.”
“For me?”
“Fine, for us.” He sighs, shaking his head. “You get your payback.”
“Payback?” I know I’m starting to sound like an idiot with all these questions, but I’m seriously feeling out of my element right now.
“Knight hurt you yesterday.”
“You saw?”
“I felt it.” He pulls up a finger. “Premièrement, Knight skipped today, to fight and bleed his knuckles and will probably only show up for the game.” He adds another finger. “Deuxièmement, you’ve been crying and you ran away from him, which means he crossed a line. Finalement, I’m old-fashioned. I don’t like it when ladies cry.”
My lips part as I savour his every word. “So what? You think if I go out with you, it’ll hurt him?”
“It will.”
I laugh, and the sound is so bitter, it hurts. “I disgust him, Ro. He can’t even look at me anymore.”
My voice breaks at the end and I stop so the tears won’t come out. I did enough crying for a lifetime last night. I won’t cry again.
Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.
The fact that Xander is the only one who sees me but is disgusted with what he sees is a different type of pain altogether.
The most crippling one.
The one therapists can’t find a cure for.
I wish Dad were here so I could hug him. Since I was little, he’s always made me feel safe and protected with a simple hug.
And calling me his Angel.
“He doesn’t look at you like he’s disgusted with you, Kimmy.”
“He doesn’t look at me. Full stop.”
“Are you blind? You’re the only one he looks at when he thinks no one is watching. He’s perfected it so well, even you don’t notice him.”
“R-really?”
He places a hand on his chest. “I swear on my honour. Wait, I don’t have that. I swear on my sacred stash of weed.”
I laugh, abandoning the salad container. I’m not going to eat anyway, so I might as well stop with the pretence.
“There.” He grins. “I knew you’d smile.”
“You’re so daft.”
“Daft with a big dick, Kimmy. It makes a difference.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.” He turns around so he’s fully facing me. “For instance, I could have threesomes with you and Ellie all night long. Which brings us to my part of the deal. Both of you need to wear bunny outfits. Nash said you could definitely wear one when you’re drunk, and he knows his shit. I’ll get you all the tequila you like. The problem’s with Ellie; we need to convince her somehow. Does she have any dark fantasies we can explore?”
I laugh at the way he’s talking. I’ve never seen Ro so serious about such a hypothetical situation in my life. I hate to kill his fun, though, so I go with it.
“I’m afraid Elsa’s dark fantasy is everything Aiden.”
“Putain.” He rubs his jaw. “I can still spike whatever he’s drinking and have him there in body, but not mind. Think about the epic expression on his face when he wakes up to find Ellie with us.”
His eyes gleam with a rare type of sadistic mischievousness. Ronan might be the most playful and easygoing out of the horsemen, but I’m beginning to think he has his secret tendencies, too.
Those who hide their real selves with humour are the most cunning.
“He’d kill you, though, and I don’t want you dead, Ro.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pats his chest. “You’re the first one to ever say that to me.”
“I am?”
“Marry me, Kimmy. And before you say anything, I have an aristocratic title and a fortune that will sustain our fourth generation. I promise satisfying sex and threesomes. Lots of threesomes.”
I laugh and the sound is relaxed compared to my earlier state of mind. “Maybe you should start looking for someone else other than Elsa. Just in case.”
“You mean instead of spiking King’s food?”
“And the fact that he’ll murder you in cold blood.”
He pouts. “But I have none other than you two on my mind.”
My gaze strays ahead and I spot Teal coming from the school’s direction to the garden. Upon seeing us, she turns around like a robot and marches back inside.
“How about –”
“Not her.” Ronan cuts me off, his complete attention on Teal as she takes stiff, almost forceful steps towards the school.
“Why not? Teal is cool.”
“She’s not.”
That’s the first time I ever heard Ronan say something remotely bad about anyone. He doesn’t even call Silver and her minions bitches, even when they act like it.
“What did Teal do to you?”
“Nothing.” He grins at me. “Yet. But she has psychotic tendencies and I need my balls.”
“Threatened, Ro?”
“Moi?” He feigns offence.
“Yes, toi.” I poke his stomach and he tickles me on my sensitive side.
We laugh as he pretends to growl, coming after my ticklish spot. I knew he’d focus on weaknesses, he just doesn’t like to show his cards upfront.
My stomach hurts with the amount of laughing while I try to push him away. Even though Ronan appears harmless, he’s still big, and I’m helpless in front of his sheer size.
All my swats fall unnoticed as he tickles me until I’m breathless and gasping with laughter.
I don’t feel it happen until I see it.
One moment Ronan and I are struggling, him pinning me to the bench, and the next, his entire p
resence is wrenched off me.
I shriek as Xander throws Ronan to the ground.
His eyes are red, face bloodied, and he looks ready to finish lives.
13
Xander
War.
They call me that for a reason.
Wars start for a trivial cause, but they have sinister undertones. Wars are made to destroy.
Wars are the reason for death, not the other way around.
Death goes down. War remains.
My mind is bleached white as I land on Ronan, straddling his stomach. I clutch him by the collar and drive my fist straight to his face.
He had the audacity to hug her, push her against the bench, and touch her as if he has every right to.
There’s that inner voice, telling me not to show my cards this clearly, but that voice is turning dimmer by the days.
I couldn’t stop this need to wreak havoc if I tried.
It’s been a long fucking time without a war, and wars need to happen to purge people.
Wars need to happen to Death, and now, he needs to fucking bleed.
He smirks up at me as I crush my fist into his face, but he doesn’t try to fight me off, not that he can when I’m on such an adrenaline high.
A voice calls from my right, startled and soft. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I recognise it’s her, but I don’t focus on it. I don’t stop to see her or hear the same voice she used to giggle at him.
My next punch is stronger than the previous one, and Ronan’s head to lolls to the side.
“Someone is losing it.” Ronan licks the corner of his bloodied mouth. “Got a problem, mon ami?”
I punch him again, causing his words to stop where they started.
Doesn’t matter that I spent most of the night and morning fighting with thugs or that a few bruises in my body hurt like a fucker. I’m going to finish this day with an epic finale – like this bastard’s death.
“Stop it!” A slender hand wraps around my bicep, forcing me back with a shove.
It’s not that strong, but her touch is.
The feel of her fingers on my skin, separated only by my shirt, is like water dousing my fire.