Kid

by Korry Smith

  Miguel was dead.

  I killed him with a double-barreled shotgun.

  It obliterated his skull into tiny fragments, and there were no more praying or soft whispers or pleas, just silence. He left this world as a mess for someone else to clean up.

  These thoughts were callous and uncharacteristic of me.

  I’d just executed a man, evil or not, with no qualms for his life, and I wasn’t upset or sorry. The moment my finger squeezed the trigger, I felt nothing but pure adrenaline. It circulated through my blood, pumping and coursing through my veins, out of control, like a freight train. All the repressed anger over Susan, Terry, and the fucking senator had been building and building, until it finally exploded in my hands, driving me to murder on a beautiful June day.

  The innocent doe-eyed Madison of yesterday was gone.

  “Alex?” I whispered, letting the murder weapon slip from my fingers and drop to the ground. It landed at my feet with a soft thump.

  “Ah, fuck,” he cursed and spun my body around. “I’m right here, baby. All right? Relax for a second. Don’t move.”

  I nodded and kept my eyes closed as he cleaned the blood from my face and legs with a thin cloth. I didn’t concern myself with how the rag materialized; I was just grateful for it.

  “He’s dead. I shot him,” I said in disbelief.

  “Yeah, you wasted his ass.” Moving up my body, wiping down my arms and neck, he gently moved the fabric over my eyelids and sighed. “Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess.”

  “It’s that bad, yeah?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it’s that fucking bad, but what did you expect, kid? It’s like taking a sledgehammer to a watermelon.”

  The mental image wasn’t pretty, and I groaned. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

  The sourness on my face must have been comical because he laughed even harder.

  “Yeah, no fucking shit.” Alex palmed the sides of my face and pulled me into him. He was so close. I could smell the peppermint on his breath. “You can open your eyes now.”

  Grasping a hold of his wrists, I opened my eyes and gasped aloud at the intensity of his stare. God-almighty, he was beautiful, and there wasn’t a drop of blood on him.

  “Hello there, killer,” he said with a crooked and devilish smirk.

  The word ‘killer’ struck a chord with me, and I tried to hide how much I enjoyed the term, but it came out as a painful grimace. It was misleading, and I aimed to fix it with a half-hearted smile. He saw right through me, so my gaze deviated from his face and down to his chest.

  I focused on the good. Alex had taken off his black t-shirt and used it to wipe the blood off me. Soaked and worthless, he threw it to the pile of evidence gathering on the ground. He wasn’t shirtless, unfortunately, but the wife-beater tank did little to cover up the tattoos. Beautifully exposed and glorious, I wanted to kiss every piece of ink on his skin.

  “Hey, don’t do that,” Alex said, redirecting my attention back to his face. He bent down and searched my eyes. “Do you know how brave you are?”

  “I don’t feel brave. It’s not like I could’ve done any of it without you.”

  Alex was the devil who lived inside me, feeding, and coaxing my urge to sin.

  He jerked away and glared. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  I sighed, hating that I had to point out the obvious. “You were holding me the whole time.”

  “Yeah, so what? You asked me not to let you go and I didn’t. I was being a supportive boyfriend.”

  I fought back a smile and shook my head. “I closed my eyes like a chicken. I couldn’t even…”

  “None of that shit matters, Madi. It takes a lot of fucking guts to pull the trigger. Believe me. You did good, kid.”

  “I did—" I started to say, and he quickly clasped his hand over my mouth.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know, you did well.” He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Fucking smartass.”

  I pulled his hand away and clutched it to my chest. “You really think I’m brave?”

  “You’re damn right, I do. That shit that you just did was brave as fuck,” Alex said, gesturing towards the mess in the grass with a flick of his wrist. “Not too many people can do that.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “You have no idea, do you?” He huffed with irritation and looked away.

  “I have no idea about what?” I placed my hands on his shoulders and rose up on my tiptoes.

  He turned back to me with this crazed look in his eyes. “Do you honestly fucking not see it?”

  “What are you talking about? See what?”

  “You don’t see it? Fuck!” Crashing his lips to mine, the sudden urgency of his kiss threw me off guard.

  Breaking away from the rashness of his passionate mouth, he bent down to pick me up, but I was miles ahead of him, jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. Placing his hands on my ass to keep me securely in his grasp, he tilted his head back and searched out my lips again.

  I was more than willing to indulge in this sin.

  Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, tugging, and yanking at it, I bent down to kiss him. It was soft, tender at first, but God, he tasted sweeter than anything. I got needy, desperate, and lifted myself up in his arms to deepen our kiss.

  Caught off guard by the weight of my enthusiasm, Alex stumbled back a few steps. I got dizzy and took a gasp of air, and his lips wandered away from mine, dancing along my jaw and neck, he sucked at the hypersensitive skin. Blood rose to the surface, bruising me, as he marked his territory on my throat.

  “Mine.”

  “Always,” I said, closing my eyes as my head lulled to the side, enjoying the way his tongue rolled over my heated flesh.

  Shifting my ass up and getting a better hold on it, he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He rocked our bodies back and forth, and we swayed to an unknown song. The cool breeze picked up my hair and swirled it around, cocooning us in its thick strands.

  “I’m fucking proud of you,” he whispered.

  Alex’s words hit me hard. It was silly to be this fucking emotional over such a simple statement, but it was the first time that I’d done something right in his eyes. I wasn’t just a hassle to him or some lovesick girl following him around, but an actual ally.

  “I love you.” Hugging him tighter, I bit my lip to suppress the stupid tears that rolled down my face. It was pointless. They fell to Alex’s bare shoulder.

  He pulled away and looked up at me, forehead wrinkled with worry. “Madi, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Perfect even,” I answered, swallowing back my emotion, and dodging his perceptive gaze.

  “Bullshit!” Setting me back down on my feet, he peeled away the strands of hair stuck to my cheeks. “Then why in the fuck are you crying? Is it me? Did I do something?”

  I sniffed, shaking my head, and waving him off. “No, Baby, you didn’t do anything. I’m stupid, okay? I promise. It’s nothing.”

  “You’re not upset over that, are you?” Alex jerked his head towards the brutality behind me.

  “No, I just…you know, it feels…”

  “Fuck!” he interrupted, staggering back, and running his hands through his hair. “I pushed you too soon, didn’t I?”

  “No!” I shouted, grabbing him by the shirt and closing the distance he was creating. “Don’t you dare think that. I was ready.”

  “Then what is it? Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, it’s just, um, my...” I paused, not wanting to admit how much I craved his approval and respect. “My emotions are running high right now.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” He rubbed his hands up and down my arms to generate warmth on my goose-fleshed skin. “Although, you seem to be handling it a lot better than I did.”

  “Really? Did you cry too?” I teased.

  “No, not quite, but, uh, I did puke.”

  My eyes widened. “You puked?”


  There was no ill feeling rumbling in my stomach. There was no inner turmoil or regrets wreaking havoc on my psyche. I was okay, a little hungry, but overall, I was fine.

  That terrified me.

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I took one look at all the brain bits plastered on the fucking concrete and lost it.”

  “And here I thought you were some badass criminal.” I playfully shoved him on the shoulder.

  “What the fuck do you know?” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You haven’t even looked.”

  A light bulb went off in my head.

  “You know what, you’re right,” I said, turning on my heel to go scope out the damage. “It’s time to pull off that Band-Aid.”

  “Uh, baby,” Alex said, grabbing my arm, and pulling me back. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  “I think I can handle a little blood, Alex.”

  “A little blood, huh?” He scoffed. “You have no idea.”

  I shook him off. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  “God damn it, Madi!” He followed as I stalked off towards a lifeless Miguel. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “I’m not!” I said over my shoulder, mind still set and decided.

  I wasn’t trying to prove anything to Alex. My lack of feelings towards killing Miguel bothered me. I wanted to show myself that I wasn’t this heartless person and that I was normal, albeit crazy and impulsive, but healthy none the less.

  In hindsight, it might not have been one of my smartest decisions.

  The tall and swaying grass masked the trauma of Miguel’s injuries. I didn’t see what the shotgun had done to his skull until I was right on top of him. It stopped me up short, and my eyes roamed over the chaos of the murder. It wasn’t pretty, nor was it distinguishable.

  From the shoulders up, it looked like grounded up hamburger meat. Brain and blood matter coagulated and splattered all over the body. The golden wheat stained a deep red and forever tainted by violence. He was nothing but a headless corpse, but even seeing that wasn’t what threw me over the edge. It was the top of his spine that dangled out of the hole in his neck. It made everything fade to black as waves of nausea washed over me.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I muttered, covering my mouth, and running over towards the tree line.

  I barely made it there in time before I was puking up everything that was in my stomach. There wasn’t much. My breakfast from earlier was digested and nonexistent. It turned into a painful dry heave, but it served me right.

  “Why don’t you ever listen to me?” Alex was at my side, and I cringed, not wanting him to see me like this. I almost pushed him away, but as it turns out, my need for him was a lot stronger than my need for humility.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  “Jesus, kid,” he said, massaging my back in circular motions. “What am I going to do with you?”

  The sun settled below the horizon and the sky turned a dark purple overhead. Alex flicked the Zippo lighter with his thumb and bent down to set fire to the evidence. The massive pile of shrub and dry grass that covered the body head to toe ignited in a flash, growing from a tiny orange flicker of a flame into a bright blue inferno. It emanated this intense and overpowering heat, burning my face, and forcing me to look away.

  Alex stayed crouched by the blaze and stuck a cigarette into his mouth. He bent his head down into the fire and lit the tip. He sat there inhaling and exhaling, blowing out smoke rings that drifted up and mingled with the towering black cloud that was rising to a noticeable level.

  It made me nervous.

  “Um, Alex? Baby?” I rubbed his back to gain his attention. He was off in a world of his own. “As much as I enjoy a good bonfire, I think we should leave.”

  I’ll be damned if we’re caught now.

  “Yeah,” he said, standing up from his squat. He turned and snatched the blood-stained shirt from my hands, throwing the wadded fabric into the fire.

  Whoosh.

  It created a bright and engulfing light, which flickered and illuminated across his beautiful face.

  He pulled the dangling cigarette from his mouth and held it out to me. “Here.”

  Always a slave to Alex’s wants, I leaned into him and placed my lips around the filter. The smoke burned my lungs, but I didn’t cough. He watched me, his eyes menacing and lustful, enjoying my further descent into depravity.

  “Damn, that’s sexy,” he said, allowing me to take two more drags from the cigarette before snatching it away and flicking it into the fire. “But you shouldn’t smoke, kid. It’s bad for you.”

  “But you’re the one—" That was all I got out before he attacked my lips and silenced me.

  It was pointless to argue with him when he kissed me this way. The power behind it made my legs weak and my thoughts hazy. It was easy to forget about the fire that smoldered behind us, the sirens that echoed and charged towards us in the distance, and the fear of imprisonment if we didn’t flee the scene in time.

  Nothing in those moments matter except for the feel of his lips on mine, and I cursed him for having this effect on me.

  “I got something else for you,” Alex said and reached into his back pocket. “Hold out your hand.”

  I opened my palm, and he dropped a gold chain with a bloodied pendent attached. It was a religious token with a woman on it with her head bent in silent prayer.

  “La Virgen De Guadalupe,” Alex said.

  “Who?”

  “La Virgen De Guadalupe is a Catholic icon and considered a saint in Mexico. She is all things pure and holy and worn as protection against all the evils in the world. It was Miguel’s.”

  The irony of those two things not lost on me. “He was the evil in this world.”

  “And now he’s dead, so, in a sense, she’s done her job,” he said, manually closing my fingers around it. “La Virgen De Guadalupe is your trophy now.”

  I smiled weakly. “This won’t protect people like us, Alex.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because, you and me, we’re not the good in this world.”

  “Says who?” he asked, gesturing behind me. “Miguel? A fucking rapist? Our parents? The police? America? Judy-fucking-Grace? Fuck them! We are who we are, and that’s it. Never make apologies, do you hear me?”

  Grabbing him by the shirt to pull him down to me, I stared into the depths of his soul and whispered against his lips, making my last promise. “No apologies.”

  “No apologies,” he echoed, as he took a firm grip on my throat and kissed me.

  My heart raced as the need to feel every inch of him escalated to a dangerous level. He pressed his arousal into my stomach, and I wrapped my leg around him, yanking him closer as my fingers dug into the skin of his biceps.

  “Fuck!” He groaned and pulled away. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

  “It’s not my fault that you’re easily influenced,” I said, chasing after his lips, and looking to corrupt his morals further.

  “Easily and willingly are two separate things, but I would rather stay a free man and continue to enjoy being influenced by you,” he said, dodging my advances, and gently pushing me backward.

  Rejected and hurt, I glowered at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means…” Removing my groping hands away from the front of his pants, he looked over my head and cursed. “Shit! We gotta go. Now.”

  I turned around and saw the flashing reds and blues of a fire truck entering the field.

  “Shit!”

  “Hold my hand and try to keep up,” he said.

  Interlocking our fingers, we ran into the darkness. I couldn’t see anything, and several tree branches whacked me in the face. All I knew was that we were heading south, or what we assumed was south, towards Lamoni. It was the only town within miles, and we needed to find a car to steal.

  Peter and Adriana had expected us in Kansas City over two hours ago, but we took longer with Miguel, easily distracted by our attraction for
each other. Nothing we did, whether it be robbing a convenience store or committing murder, was within a constricted time frame. We did what we wanted when we wanted. It was why we were always on the verge of the police capturing us. We toyed with fate, tempting it with our recklessness, and eventually, if we weren’t careful, she was going to strike us down with a vengeance.

  I prayed to La Virgen Guadalupe that day would never come.

  The Safari Inn was the millionth hotel room we’ve stayed in since we began our road trip over two months ago, and they were all starting to look the same. Shitty carpet, fire-retardant bed sheets, and a twenty-inch television set. It smelled of body sweat, urine, and stale Chinese food. It made my stomach twist and lurch, and I wished that we didn’t have to stay in these crappy hotels in the worst part of town, but criminals were safe amongst other criminals.

  “I’m going to go next door and get our stuff,” Alex said once we were in the room. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you going to be okay by yourself?”

  Reaching around him, I pulled the Colt from his back waistband and smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right, tough guy. Lock up behind me.” Smacking my ass for good measure, I jumped and yelped from the sting; he laughed. Walking to the door, he stopped short, as if he remembered something, and spun back around. “You shoot any motherfucker that comes in here that isn’t me, got it?”

  I cocked the gun and pointed it at his head. “Yeah, I got it.”

  “Christ.” Alex groaned, closing his eyes, and gently banging his head against the wall. “You have to go, asshole,” he muttered to himself repeatedly before closing the door behind him.

  Once the lock clicked over, I headed straight for the bathroom. My body was screaming for a shower. It’d been a long and exhausting day, physically and mentally.

  Laying the Colt down on the toilet tank near the shower stall, I peeled off my shirt and shorts and kicked them into a pile by the door. They were in a desperate need of a cleaning. My first thought was to burn them. I wanted to forget, but the tainted clothes were a reminder, just like the pendant that hung from my neck, of a violent story that shined a light on what I’d become.

  No apologies.

  Leaning down and turning the water on full blast, I tested the temperature with my fingertips, and thankfully, it didn’t take long for it to heat up. Stepping in and positioning myself underneath the spray, I enjoyed the feel of the hot water running along my back and soothing my tense muscles.