Destructive King

by Van Dyken, Rachel

  “She’s happy, right?” I sniffled.

  His arms tightened as he whispered in my ear, his lips touching my skin briefly. “Of course… because she’s free.”

  I don’t remember falling asleep against him, only the fact that hours later, I was lying across Ash on the couch. He still had dirt caked to his fingertips, and I’m sure I looked like a mess.

  But I stayed.

  I stayed with him on her birthday.

  I allowed myself those moments of peace against his solid chest.

  And when I thought of her looking down on us… I smiled.

  “Until the sky falls…” I whispered.

  “Until the sky falls,” Ash whispered in a rough voice pulling me tighter against him.

  He wasn’t mine.

  Would probably never be.

  But at least, for a few brief hours, we saw our friend find peace. We had real closure.

  And just like clockwork, rain started to pour as if the earth wept with us. Until the sky falls—or maybe until the rain cleanses. Whichever came first.

  Eyelids heavy, I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Life asked Death, why do people love me but hate you? Death responded, because you are a beautiful lie, and I am a painful truth.” —Author Unknown

  Ash

  For the first time in a year—I wanted to wake up. My eyes were fuzzy as I blinked down at the girl in my arms.

  Necklace gone.

  Left on the grave of her friend, my Claire.

  The one prized possession it seemed she had was left on the grave of the dead, and I felt like shit all over again.

  In hundreds of lifetimes, I would never make up for the pain, the anger, the shit I was still dealing with, and trying to project onto the precious person in my arms.

  And even then, the guilt came full force because I liked it.

  I liked the gentle weight of her body pressed against me, the way her lips parted as she frowned in her sleep.

  I loved the way her hair spread across my dirty white shirt.

  The way she still had dirt smudges on her cheek from my fingertips, stained there by her tears.

  Mine.

  The word refused to leave as I squeezed her closer against me and then noticed how dirty my entire body was and how I was ruining her clothes, not to mention mine and the couch.

  Begrudgingly, I eased myself up and put a pillow under her head, pulled an afghan over her small body and then, stared.

  Just stared at her small form.

  I had no clue what I was waiting for.

  I wanted to wake her up so bad.

  To ask if she was okay.

  To say thank you for not giving up on me when I deserved it.

  I’d shown her my pain.

  I had bled my emotions all over the place, my soul cried out, and hers answered, so a simple thank you seemed ridiculously elementary.

  Damn, if Claire could see me now, she’d probably kick my ass and then tell me I was being an ass.

  I gave my head a shake and then started walking away, only to backpedal, lean down over Annie and press a kiss to her forehead.

  My lips lingered.

  And then hovered close to the corner of her lips, and without thinking, without letting the hatred or the sadness seep in, I kissed the side of her mouth.

  I tasted.

  I healed.

  I was somehow reborn for just a few seconds, like her touch let the light in, destroying some of the darkness I’d kept so close for so many reasons.

  Nobody ever said healing was easy.

  It was painful.

  Hard.

  I welcomed the grief more than the healing because it somehow still kept her alive; even though I knew it was wrong, my heart screamed that it was right, that if we just kept remembering, getting angry, fighting, that her spirit would remain.

  But she was gone, wasn’t she?

  Gone.

  I lowered my head and wished she could see me now.

  How far I’d fallen and failed.

  And how much I’d needed someone to take my hand and tell me it was going to be okay, one day, not now, maybe not for a while.

  Annie was that person.

  The one person I didn’t want help from but needed it the most from.

  Life never played fair, did it?

  And death, death just laughed in our face.

  “Stay,” I whispered to Annie like she could hear me, and then I made my way slowly up the stairs to wash the tears and dirt off of me. The last thing I needed was to scare the girl, even more, a few days before Christmas.

  For the first time in, I couldn’t even count how long, my smile was still sad but hopeful as it led me up the stairs and into the shower.

  Memories of her in there with me weren’t as painful or full of guilt as before.

  Everyone grieves differently. Maybe I did mine wrong, maybe there is no right way other than to just feel the pain and let it out, but I was different that morning. Like I’d somehow been healed without even knowing how really broken I was.

  I took my time, washing the grime off my body, the tears, the anger, the dirt. I wanted to be clean.

  And it occurred to me.

  I cared.

  I finally cared.

  It wasn’t about keeping up pretenses; it was about actually wanting to feel like myself again as I washed and washed, then finally shut off the water and grabbed a towel running it down the length of my body and pausing on my right leg. Frowning, I paused, the scar wasn’t deep, and even though my memories were fuzzy, I knew that this one always carried more weight than the rest of my scars—because even though I didn’t remember much, I remembered that it had been caused by my own hand. Somehow Claire had been there. She’d stopped me. I’d wanted to follow her so desperately, and then her hand touched mine, she begged me to stay, or at least that’s what it felt like. With a shudder, I shoved the weak memories away and focused on the present. On getting dry. On going back downstairs.

  I brushed my teeth, smiled in the mirror, and felt almost like an alien in my own body as I shook the remaining water from my hair, and ran my hands through its thickness.

  Muscles flexed, and I realized I was skinnier.

  How did that happen?

  How?

  I still had more muscle over most guys, but I wasn’t me.

  Fuck.

  I hung my head and then wrapped the towel around my waist and went into my room, searching for a pair of jeans and a shirt.

  I grabbed an older worn pair that had seen better days and a white long-sleeve shirt, then grabbed a gray beanie and threw on my brown combat boots. I added my Rolex, wallet and realized my phone was downstairs with a sleeping Annie.

  Trying to be as quiet as possible, I made my way down the creaky stairs only to see that the couch was empty.

  Had I taken that long?

  Frowning, I jogged down the stairs. “Annie?”

  A sick feeling built in my stomach as I searched the kitchen, living room, spare room downstairs, laundry. “Where the hell is she?”

  I quickly called her, holding the phone to my ear only to have it go to voice mail.

  And all of a sudden, I was there again.

  Getting news of Claire’s death.

  Watching Breaker, my best friend take his car over the side of the bridge this last year.

  Helpless to stop the people I loved from dying.

  I wanted to go back.

  Back into that place that was safe.

  Where my grief told me it was okay to burn the world when I was hurting.

  But then I saw the blanket I’d put on her.

  She was fine.

  Right?

  Because the universe wasn’t that cruel.

  Right?

  Right?

  Trying not to panic, I grabbed my keys and jogged across the yard into the main house. Maybe she was eating breakfast?

  The kitchen was bare except for my dad, who was rea
ding the newspaper like he was actually fucking normal.

  “Son.” He didn’t look up.

  I wanted to strangle him. Instead kept my face impassive. “Yo.”

  He slowly lowered the paper giving me an amused look with his bright blue eyes. “Did you just… ’yo’ me?”

  “Yes.” I inwardly cringed. “No… Hey, have you seen Annie?”

  He gave me the longest sigh in the history of sighs. “And if I have?”

  And strangling my own father… back on the table. “Just… curious?” Or worried, so ridiculously worried there was a sword jabbed into the exact spot where my heart should be.

  “Mmmmm.” He turned a page, then another, picked up his phone and sent off a text and then, “Oh.” Finally. “She wanted to borrow a car to go run some errand, so I loaned her the Jeep. She refused the Lambo and all the rest of—”

  “SHIT!” I yelled, and then I was out of there, sprinting toward my car, getting in, and using my Find My Friends app, tapping it angrily to get her location.

  She was somewhere downtown.

  I zoomed in.

  Not good enough.

  My engine didn’t roar to life, but I’d like to imagine it did as I told the car to dial Sergio and waited.

  “Yo.” He laughed.

  “Shit, how is my dad always this against me?” I gripped the steering wheel with ferocity. Damn, was he a teen? Just texting everyone he knew that I’d said “yo” and laughed behind my back?

  “He was literally texting me… probably mid-conversation.”

  I groaned, and there it was. “Fine, just tell me where Annie is?”

  “It might cost you.”

  “I’m good for it.”

  “Babysitting—”

  “Kartini is old enough to watch herself.” I left out the part about her partying ways recently for good reason. I wanted to LIVE.

  He sighed. “Fine, babysitting at a distance.”

  “Done. I’ll kill anyone who touches her.”

  “Wow, even better.” He chuckled. “Give me a minute, we have trackers on everyone… wanna know the nickname for her?”

  “No.” I grit my teeth. “Not really.”

  “Bunny,” he said, obviously not listening. “You know because you’re like the stupid wild animal that just realized he needs to chase.”

  I clenched my teeth. “LOCATION.”

  More maniacal laughter from my uncle. “She’s at a jeweler downtown, off second, sending her location now, but don’t worry, looks like King’s right—”

  I hung up.

  He could yell later.

  What the hell was she doing without protection?

  A gun?

  Especially after last night?

  The car refused to go as fast as I needed it to. Minutes later, I was pulling into a parking spot next to the store.

  The red Jeep was parked out front. Thank God.

  Seconds after I turned off the engine, she was walking out with a small white bag and a smile on her face.

  I saw nothing but that face.

  Showing me she was okay.

  Making me angry because I hadn’t thought she was.

  “The FUCK!” I bellowed, rushing over to her, grabbing her by the arms, causing the package to fall to the ground. “Why did you leave? Why?”

  Her body trembled a bit. “I was getting a surprise… for you.”

  My entire body deflated as every ounce of adrenaline surged through my blood. “Annie…”

  “I wanted to surprise you.” Her small smile nearly killed me.

  “Fuck.” I lowered my head and then pulled her into my arms. “I thought— I don’t know what I thought, maybe I thought too much, but you’re safe? Right? You’re okay.” Suddenly I pulled back, cupping her face as if to inspect for blood when a throat cleared behind me.

  I didn’t let her go.

  But I knew that throat clear.

  “Junior.” I gulped, refusing to turn around. “You also doing some shopping?”

  “Smart girl asked us to go with her,” a female voice said.

  Shit. “Serena.”

  “Ding ding ding!” She laughed.

  “Is he okay? He looks rough, man.” Maksim’s voice.

  “I know, I think he’s a vampire now; he’s up at night and sleeps during the day,” King said wistfully, then sighed. “lost to us…”

  With a growl, I looked over my shoulder. “Really? All of you are shopping at the exact same time?”

  King grinned. “Well, my FRIEND—” He made sure to say it loud just in case the deaf couldn’t hear. “—Annie, the one you’re holding, knew it was probably best to go out with company so she texted and we all met her down here.” He lifted a black bag and shook it. “Got myself a sick pair of briefs. Wanna see?”

  I pulled my hands away from her face and cleared my throat. “I was um… showering…”

  Junior started to slow clap. “Awww, little buddy, I’ve never been so proud, so hygiene is important to you? And to think this last year, I thought it was just this annoying thing you had to do in order to keep people in your company without killing them dead? My mistake.”

  Serena snorted out a laugh behind her hand.

  I glared. “Very funny.”

  King just shrugged. “I mean… if it’s true, is it really funny?”

  “Do you really want to die?” Maksim said under his breath.

  I shook my head and looked around the group. “So what? Are we Christmas shopping?”

  “Yup!” Junior grabbed Serena’s hand. “There’s peppermint mocha, shit tons of coupons, and enough Santa to make you want to kill yourself, welcome to the fold!”

  I turned to Annie and offered my arm. “I guess I have no other choice.”

  Her face lit up. “Guess not. But thanks for the rescue anyway.”

  “Always,” I whispered. “I’ll always rescue you.”

  She stumbled and then clung to me.

  I’d like to think it was because of me, not just the words.

  But after three more hours of shopping, I truly did want to kill myself.

  King had the right idea as he pulled out a flask and dumped the entire thing into his Starbucks coffee.

  “A thousand bucks for that coffee,” I offered.

  “Two thousand,” Maksim countered.

  “Four!” Junior’s voice was desperate. “There was a Hallmark store, it had… cards.”

  We all groaned.

  “And then, and then it was like, Family. Singing.… Joy…”

  More groans.

  “Take it!” King shoved his drink toward him. “For your sacrifice, sir.”

  “It was so scary…” Junior shuddered.

  “Should we kill someone to make it better?” I offered.

  “That Santa over there with the perpetual joy looks ripe.” Maksim joked, earning a horrified look from a passing child.

  “Kidding!” Maksim laughed. “So sorry, I meant, killing him with joy!”

  The kid clearly wasn’t buying it and burst into tears as his harried mother shot us a “mom glare” and rushed her child past.

  “Aw shit, three years in a row? Really Maks?” Junior stood. “We had to pay off the fucking mall Santa for scaring the children last year!”

  “NOT my fault!” Maksim said and then shrugged. “They should come tougher.”

  “They’re KIDS.” Junior rolled his eyes. “Okay, we gotta get the girls before we have to buy our way out of community service.”

  We all stood and went in search of Serena and Annie, who were apparently trying to see how many couches they could test at Pottery Barn.

  “Gotta go!” Junior picked up Serena while I snatched Annie and shook my head.

  “But—”

  “No arguing.” I grinned. “Mafia life.”

  She rolled her eyes, then wrapped her arms around my neck.

  It felt like heaven.

  “Big bad mafia life?” She grinned.

  “One hundred percent,�
� I answered. Why was I so breathless? Why did I want to take her back to that couch and kiss my way down her neck counting the ways I could make her scream?

  “Mm. Okay. Sure.” She squealed and held on tight.

  And I stored the memory of her smile in my heart.

  In a place I hadn’t dared open for over a year.

  Sacred.

  Holy.

  Shared.

  With someone who knew my pain.

  Shopping was over. I had Annie hand King the keys to the Jeep so he could drive it back.

  Our ride home was silent other than the Christmas music Annie demanded we play as if she wasn’t afraid of me anymore.

  I wanted to hate it.

  But I loved it.

  Loved her smile.

  And her genuine joy.

  I parked my car near the front entrance of the garage, and grabbed her few bags, proud that she was finally spending money that my dad had given her. I’d heard she refused for a while, so even though she only had like two bags, it was nice.

  Really nice.

  “Want these up in your room?” I asked.

  Her eyes darted away. “Um, no… actually… they’re not mine.”

  “Okay…’” I said slowly. “So do we need to wrap them for someone.”

  She shook her head no. “They just go under the tree.”

  “We have a tree already?”

  “Fingers crossed.” She laughed. “Your dad was supposed to go cut one down with Izzy in your mini-forest out there while we were gone.”

  I laughed. “Then it’s going to be a very sad Charlie Brown tree that needs lots of love and has a few scattered patches of branches, damn Izzy.”

  “I LOVE CHARLIE BROWN.”

  I let out a sigh. “Of course you do.” I held out my hand. “Come on.” When she didn’t do anything, I leaned in and whispered, “You take it—my hand.”

  “Oh.” She blushed. “Sorry, yeah… sorry.”

  “Forgetting things.” I winked. “It tends to happen in my presence.”

  She tripped. “Was that a joke?”

  I frowned and then shrugged. “Maybe?”

  “Aww, look at you, Ash Abandonato, all grown up…”

  “Awww, look at you,” I mimicked. “Annie Smith… being all brave.”

  She smiled back at me. “I missed this.”

  “What?”

  She hesitated, her eyes going sad before she said, “You.”

  A knife to the heart would have hurt less.

  “I’m sorry—”