Kid

by Korry Smith

  “Damn it.” Alex groaned, pulling away. He put one hand on the red-brick above my head to balance himself, and the other one was gently on my neck to keep me still. “What is it about you? Every time I have you by a wall, I have this urge to take you right then and there.”

  I bit down on my lip, so aroused, but also frustrated with him stopping. “What is it about you and cars?”

  He squeezed my neck and gave a hard, painful thrust of his hips into me. “We’re an odd fucking pair.”

  “Considering we just cemented our relationship with permanent ink, and you are two seconds away from fucking me on a busy street, I would say we’re more than odd, crazy is more like it.”

  “God damn, Madi.” Pulling me up from the wall, he threw his arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his side, leading us back towards the road. “Did I ever tell you how much it turns me on when you swear?”

  “No,” I said, holding onto his forearm with both my hands as we walked, “but I can tell when you’re…” Alex stopped in mid-step, cutting me off short as his hold on me tightened. I looked up at him confused. “What’s wrong, babe?”

  “Fuck me,” he hissed, staring straight ahead.

  I followed his gaze to an older man, dressed in a classy gray suit, walking towards us in quick strides. The business-type gentleman was short, but he was as wide as he was in height. The guy slicked his jet-black hair back into a shiny do, but what stuck out most was the single white streak down the middle. He reminded me of Pepe Le Pew.

  “Who…” I asked, but the man was already upon us, recognition firmly in his eyes.

  “Alexander Ryan!” The man called, his steps quick and in pace to intercept us.

  “No, man,” Alex said, brushing past him, and steering us in another direction — away from the car. “You’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “It’s you. I knew that was you. Holy shit!” The unknown man blocked our path and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I would recognize your father’s face anywhere.” Alex stayed quiet but continued shaking his head. “Don’t tell me that you don’t recognize your old pal, Frankie Church?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes focusing on Alex’s tattoos and facial piercings. “You look different. Your father has been telling everyone you were dead.”

  Alex scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. It looks like you got the wrong guy then.”

  Once again, he tried to sidestep the man, but he was persistent and refused to let us pass.

  “Well, you can’t blame the old chap for lying.” Frankie Church laughed. “I mean, after the embarrassment that you caused them, standing up that beautiful girl at the altar. The whole city went into a frenzy. The senator’s golden boy ditches the governor’s youngest daughter on their wedding day. What was her name…?” The guy snapped his fingers. “Olivia.”

  What?

  My eyes were wide and filled with shock. I looked up at Alex, seeking answers, but he stared impassively at Frankie. I was spinning wildly. The floor opening beneath me as I tried to process the information that was coming in.

  Alex — my Alex — once almost married a girl.

  Oh, God. I didn’t even want to say it.

  I couldn’t breathe. My hold on Alex’s body loosened, and I felt myself slump to the side, preparing to hit the cold concrete. Alex shifted his arm and grabbed me tighter around the waist, keeping me from falling into the bottomless pits of the earth below.

  Frankie was unaware of what had just happened and continued to ramble on with pointless nonsense. “It was quite the scandal and fodder for the tabloids. Your father lost a lot of votes that year,” he said sadly, but his eyes were brightening within the next second. “He made up for this year though. He’s in the lead. That’s why I’m here at the landing. We’re campaigning with the younger generation. They have so much passion, and so easily led. You know, your father and mother are at the Carlton, you should see them. Bring your, um…” He paused, looking at me now, and I’m not sure what he saw on my face, but he seemed uncomfortable. “Bring your friend.”

  I glared at him and screamed in my head, Girlfriend! I’m his fucking girlfriend! You douche!

  “Listen, fucker,” Alex said more sternly and took an aggressive stance. “You don’t fucking know me, all right? You’ve got me mixed up with someone else. Now, you need to fucking leave me alone, or I’m going to make you fucking leave me alone. You got me?”

  Frankie’s jaw dropped, and he nodded slowly, stepping away with his hands raised. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. My mistake.” He turned on his heel and walked off in the opposite direction.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Alex interweaved his fingers with mine and tugged me towards the curb to cross the road.

  The car congestion was light, but there were tons of people loitering in the streets, drinking, and partying. Alex shoved through them, gaining a few glares, but no one wanted to confront him. He dragged me behind him, never letting up, even when my feet would catch a few of the cobblestones peeking up on the sidewalk. The panicked energy was rolling off him in waves, and we didn’t even get a block before Alex was opening his mouth to explain himself. He knew full well that I had questions.

  Who’s Olivia?

  Why didn’t you tell me about her?

  “You asked me why I had left home and became a criminal, and I told you it was because it was the better choice. Do you remember?”

  “Yes,” I said, struggling to keep up with his brisk pace. He was trying to put as much distance between him and that man as humanly possible.

  “Well, I was supposed to marry a girl.”

  My voice came out timid and soft as I asked the question, but I didn’t want to hear the answer. “Did you love her?”

  “No, fuck no!” he yelled. “She was nice. I guess. But she wasn’t what I wanted.”

  Nothing was making sense to me. Alex was engaged to be married but not in love with the bride? How does one happen without the other?

  “Then why did you ask her to marry you?”

  “I didn’t! Look…” Alex glanced around us and saw no one was within hearing range. He squeezed my hand and let it all out. “When I was seventeen, I got mixed up with some guys. They were small-time crooks, but funny as fuck, and they asked me to help them plan this elaborate home invasion on this million-dollar sky rise. It was supposed to pay off big, but shit got hairy, things went astray, and the cops got us in the fucking lobby. Those assholes, one by one, dimed me out, and I was looking at twenty-five years to life in prison.”

  We were heading back towards the parking garage, our stride quickening with every step, but Alex kept on talking, spilling his guts, and telling me everything.

  “My father made a deal with the governor. They would clear me of all the charges if I agreed to marry his daughter.”

  “So, your dad was using his connections to get you out of jail? Not that I agree with forcing people to get married, but it sounds like he was trying to bail his son out of trouble.”

  He laughed dryly, a hint of sorrow behind it. “Yeah, and I would have gone through with it too. You know, married her, if it was the truth and he was doing it for me. That’s why I went along with it for so long, even making it up to the wedding day. Except for that morning, I happened to be walking around the halls and overheard my father in his office talking with Olivia’s father. It turns out that they both fucking set me up for the robbery. They paid those guys a large sum of money to turn against me. They tipped off the cops and everything.”

  I’m stunned stupid, tripping over my feet and words. “What? But why would they do that to you?”

  “It was a political move. My dad knew that he couldn’t get me to marry that girl unless my back was in a corner, and since I’m a God-damn criminal, I had to slip up sooner or later. He just seized the opportunity to catch me red-handed and force me into his bidding. That’s why I ran. I’d enlisted Len’s help, and we packed up our shit and came to Arizona.” Alex stopped walking, dropped my
hand, and ran his own through his hair. He looked as though the past he fought hard to escape had caught up with him. “She was devastated, I’m sure, but I couldn’t go through with it, not after knowing that my father used me and my life to get ahead in his career. I was a fucking kid!”

  I followed him as he paced the quiet, curiously abandoned street. “Why was it so important to your father that you married her?”

  “Because he wanted to be governor and needed the governor’s endorsement in the next primaries. They wanted to create a Donahue and a Ryan dynasty with our pairing.” Alex gripped my shoulders and got low with my eyes. “I’ve been a bad apple for a long time, Mad. Ever since I was born, probably. I don’t know why I do the things I do.”

  Alex begged me to understand and to forgive him for lying. He withheld this information because it was more telling about the person he was. In some aspect, he didn’t think I could handle it, or worst-case scenario, still want to be with him, knowing that he was bat-shit crazy.

  Yes, Alexander Ryan was insane, and he did terrible things on instinct. He thrived from the thrill and was unapologetic. That part of him that should make me want to run made him more desirable.

  “Baby,” I said, placing both my hands on his face. “We may come from different backgrounds, but you and I are cut from the same cloth.”

  “No, kid.” He held my hands, forcing them tightly together, and pushed them into my chest. “You’re playing house. The shit I’ve done? You’re better than that.”

  “No, Alex…” I wriggled myself free. He was too mesmerized by my lips, as I licked them, sucking the bottom one between my teeth, that he hadn’t noticed that I slid my hand into his pocket. “That is where you’re wrong.” I pulled out his car keys and jingled them in front of his face, smirking like the Devil in Heaven, as I walked back towards the garage. “And I’ll prove it to you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex stood paralyzed and watched me with confusion as I edged closer and closer to the entrance of the garage. There was no way to prove to him that I wasn’t innocent or perfect, but as crazy as he was, without going balls to the wall. Granted, making snap decisions on the fly, and worrying about the consequences after the fact, wasn’t a smart game plan. I just prayed whatever I decided to do, that it didn’t get me killed, or worse, arrested.

  The two-second delay had passed, and he came back to his senses, the realization of what I was about to do dawning on him. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

  I wasn’t anywhere close to the car, but I needed to move fast. If he caught me, he would talk me out of it.

  So, I turned around and ran — like full on sprint.

  It was intense. I could hear Alex’s heavy breathing and feet pounding on the cement behind me. Every second and minuscule inch, he was closing the distance between us. I picked up my legs and increased my speed. Skidding around the corner, I gripped the edge of the wall and darted up the stairway, skipping two the three steps at a time. Holding on to the side railing to avoid falling and tumbling to my death, my fingers clutched around it, helping me push myself up the rest of the way.

  Coming to the top of the stairs on the third floor, I spotted the car a few rows down. The proximity of it boosted another round of adrenaline in my veins, and I raced towards it. My heart hammered painfully in the chest, and my lungs deflated, causing me to gasp and pant, but I pushed myself harder and further.

  It was three feet away.

  Two feet.

  One foot.

  Bam!

  The momentum and sheer velocity caused my body to collide with the car, nearly denting it. I fumbled with the keys as my hands shook. It missed the hole my first attempt, the sharp edge scraped red paint off the door and baring the metal underneath.

  “Shit!”

  Looking behind me, Alex made it to the top of the stairs. He leaned against the wall to rest; out of breath and eyes wild. I panicked, feeling the pressure even more, and I reinserted the key. This time, I steadied my hands. It went in, and the lock clicked over. I was midway through opening it when he crashed into me, slamming it back shut.

  Alex snatched the car keys out of my hands, brows furrowed in contempt as he grunted out a disjointed sentence. “What the fuck…are…you…Jesus, I can’t…fucking…keep up with you.”

  “Give me the keys, Alex,” I said, reaching out and trying to grab them from him.

  He held them behind his back. “Why? Where are you going?”

  “Fine! Don’t give me the keys.” Shoving him hard enough to gain enough space to open the car door, I launched over the seat to the passenger side and opened the glove box. The Colt laid wrapped and snug in the white, pristine cloth. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what I was after.

  “No, no, no, no, no!” Alex grabbed my ankles to drag me out, but I was quick and had the gun tucked securely in the front of my pants. He flipped me over and went to grab the handle.

  I lifted my knees to his chest and pushed him off me. “Stop it! Leave it alone.”

  “No, God damn it, Madi.” He reached for the Colt again, and this time, managing to wrap his fingers around the barrel. “I refuse to let you do something stupid to prove a fucking point and get yourself killed.”

  “I am not!” Rolling over onto my stomach, I crushed his hand between the hard steel and my weight. He yelped, smacking my ass with one hand, but letting go of the gun with the other. My opportunity to get away was now. I rose to my knees, lunging at the passenger side, and flinging open the door.

  “Shit,” Alex yelled from somewhere behind me.

  As I stumbled out of the car, my hands hit the concrete first, and tiny bits of gravel went into my palms. The seatbelt caught my foot and kept me from advancing. Panic and paranoia overtook me, knowing that Alex was nearby. I jerked, and tugged, trying to free myself. It strangled the more I struggled. Resting on my forearms, I put all my leverage on my legs and kicked backward. After a few frantic tries, the belt gave up and released me from its constraints. The force of it had propelled my body out of the car. I fell to the ground, landing hard on my back and knocking the air right out of me.

  Sensing defeat, I lied there and waited for judgment to find me.

  It came as a shuffling pair of lace-up biker boots. “What are you doing?” Alex towered over me amused, but not angry.

  “I’m not perfect.”

  He slid his back down the side of the car and sat beside me. “You want to prove to me that you’re badass?”

  I nodded.

  “Well then.” Removing the gun from the front of my pants, he used the muzzle to brush a few strands of hair away from my face. He smirked. It was smug and crooked, just like him. “I’ve got the perfect job for you.”

  It was a simple request.

  I was to come into this store and shoplift a cocktail dress. I didn’t ask why, but if this was the proof Alex needed to know we belonged together, then I would steal whatever he wanted.

  Walking through the vintage boutique, I stayed alert and assessed my surroundings. There were two employees and four security cameras. I received little to no acknowledgment from the staff when I walked in. My slight stature and unassuming appearance made people overlook me. If you’re invisible, you can do whatever you want.

  Browsing and taking my sweet time, I spent thirty-two minutes going through the racks, looking for something black, short, and revealing. Those were Alex’s exact words.

  “Miss, do you have this in blue?” a random shopper asked one of the girls behind the counter.

  Needy people packed the store, asking for this, and wanting to see that. They gave me the opportunity I was looking for to stuff a dress into my purse. It went in easy. No fuss, no muss.

  The next thing I needed was shoes, but it wasn’t going to be as easy. They were too bulky to join the dress, and I couldn’t hide it under my shirt. An idea to get my perfect heels formulated in my mind when I saw a lady trying on shoes. The black chucks I was wearing were old and worn, and part
ing with them wouldn’t be the worst thing. Glancing around and making sure the coast was clear, I slipped off my shoes and pushed them underneath a rack of clothes.

  Nobody in the store noticed as I walked through the aisles barefooted. I smiled and made plenty of eye contact with customers. Alex taught me to be cordial, and to never, ever look like you’re up to no good. Feeling guilty would make you look guilty, and that would always get you caught.

  I didn’t feel anything, other than want for those heels on the showcase window. They were black suede stilettos and phenomenal. My choice of dress based on what would look best with those shoes.

  Keeping an eye out for the employees and the camera, which was undoubtedly on me, I slipped on the heels and walked around nonchalantly, pretending like I was a noble shopper just feeling them out. They felt good. It surprised me. I was sure they would kill my toes, but they had the memory-foam cushion in the sole. After a minute and thirty-two seconds of prancing around the store, and with no security guard escorting me to the back, I made my way out towards the front and walked out the door. No alarms had gone off, and no one had tackled me — Hell, even one of the employees waved goodbye.

  “Come back soon!”

  Alex waited outside for me, but I didn’t stop moving and click-clacked past him. Call me paranoid or whatever, but it was too soon to say I was home free. Distance, lots of fucking distance, was the key to my salvation. It wasn’t until we were a block down the street, around several corners, and far away from the store, did my pace slow to a casual walk.

  Jogging up from behind, Alex wrapped his arms around me, and he purred into my neck. “I love those fucking heels on you.”

  “You should see the dress,” I said, leaning sideways, and turning around just enough to see his face. “Are you going to tell me why I just did that? That hardly proved anything.”