“Kyler, stop! Oh my god, please stop. You’re gonna kill him.” I lunged myself at Kyler. The fear of Kyler leaving the house in handcuffs becoming a very real possibility. “Kyler! Please!” I cried, tears now streaking down my face as a bunch of other guys came over and peeled Kyler off the guy. Kyler was fighting them all off. I was shocked at how strong he was with so much adrenaline pumping in his system.
“You ever look at my sister, talk to her, breathe the same air as her, and I will come back and kill you. You and your fucking piece of shit friends better stay the fuck away or I’ll make sure you’re sent back to that podunk trailer park you’re from,” Kyler spat, grabbing my hand and walking out.
“That’s it?” I asked, shaking my hand out of his grip. “You go in there, beat the shit out of that guy and you just walk away?” Kyler shrugged, silent. “Where I come from, they would have held you down and tag-teamed you.”
“Sinclairs own this town. He’s some scholarship kid, most of them on the football team are. They know that this is their only way out. Their brother-in-arms isn’t worth losing the free ride. Now they at least know to tread very lightly.” He shrugged his shoulders before climbing on the back of his bike. “Get in the car and go home. I’ll see you there,” he said, while sitting on his bike, staring at me. “Now,” he barked.
I didn’t want to add more stress to the night, so I quietly got into the car, started the engine and drove towards the mausoleum. Watching the whole time in the rearview as Kyler followed me.
14
“The whole world is divided for me into two parts: one is she, and there is all happiness, hope, light; the other is where she is not, and there is dejection and darkness...” ― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Kyler
I managed to arrive at the house at the same time as Madison. Pulling up right behind her in the driveway, I could still feel my temper rising. The drive hadn’t done much to calm me down. All I could picture was my sister laying in that hospital bed, pale and broken. I waited until Madison got out of the car before turning off the engine and climbing off my bike. She was already heading towards her guesthouse. I didn’t want the night to end like this. I needed her in that moment. For what, I wasn’t sure; I just knew I didn’t want my time with her to end. Not yet.
“Maddy!” I yelled, drawing her attention back to me, the moonlight hitting her at the perfect angle, making her more beautiful than ever.
She waited patiently and I took my time walking to her, enjoying holding her steady gaze with mine each step. When I finally reached her, I stopped to take her in. Silence swallowed us, warm and welcoming, like everything with her. Silence didn’t seem to frighten her, her lips tipped and her eyes danced with a breath of defiance, as if she actually enjoyed the way I toyed with her. She looked so relaxed, embracing the quiet between us.
“I know you like books. But do you like music?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.
She nodded, looking a little thrown off guard by the utter normalcy of my question. I offered her my hand to take her into my guesthouse, somewhere that I’d never invited anyone beyond immediate family and the cleaning staff.
But I really didn’t want to be alone right then and unfortunately for the little mouse, she was the only person I wanted near me.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” I opened the door, ushering her in before I closed it behind us. “Want anything to drink?”
“A glass of water would be great. Thanks.” Her gaze took in the main room. To her it must have looked over-the-top elegant, it probably didn’t look like the place Kyler Sinclair would live in. “I love what you’ve done with the decorating.” She smiled while holding up a Swarovski elephant.
“I’m only going to be here for a year. I figured there was no point bothering to switch up Monica’s decor.” I handed her a glass, taking the fragile elephant from her hands and returning it to the shelf. “She really likes these ugly things. She has one in the main house that cost her fifty Gs. The thing is a fuckin’ eye sore.”
I walked over to the old sound system, surrounded by records.
“Your collection is pretty amazing.” She knelt beside me, watching as I shifted through the vinyls.
“It’s the only thing I couldn’t live without. Well, that and my bike. What kind of music do you like?”
“Everything and anything.”
“That’s not very picky.” I tugged at my piercing as I sifted through the albums.
“Music is about emotion for me. No matter what the genre, there’s always a message to convey.” She paused, before hurrying to ask, “What did that guy mean back there--from quarterback to loser? Did you play football with them?”
I didn’t answer. Hated the truth of it on my lips. But I couldn’t lie to her, not about this too. “For a while.”
“Were you good?”
I cracked a smile at her direct question. “Good enough to throw a record-breaking season for the Cougars. I was so pissed when I came back from boarding school, I lit my jersey on fire and watched it burn from the pool deck. Just one of the reasons Monica prefers me sleeping far away from her, out here in the pool house.”
“Wow.” Her eyes dropped from the ring in my lip to the inked knuckles, then back to my gaze. “Full of surprises, aren’t you, Sinclair?”
“I like keeping you on your toes.”
“So what changed--with football--I mean?”
I shook my head. “What didn’t change?”
“Do you always answer questions with more questions?”
“Are you always so direct about business that isn’t yours?” I bit, then regretted it instantly when coldness clouded her usually warm eyes. Silence hung heavy enough to cut with a knife, memories of my years playing football as a child, Edward and Monica cheering me on from the stands, sending a surge of emotion to the brim.
I shuddered, determined to leave it where it belonged and focus on what was right here, right now.
Little Mouse.
“You even like that bubble gum pop shit?” A look of disgust formed on my face, and she laughed as a remixed eighties song reached its awful chorus.
“All music is powerful. Look at Pink: totally underrated for years. She was considered a pop princess when she came out but her songs empower millions of people around the world. My mom pretty much raised me on her.”
I waited, still skeptical, before the ghost of a condescending smile lingered on my lips.
“Hold on.” She walked to her bag and pulled out her phone, searching through music until she found the song she was looking for. Pink’s smooth vocals echoed between us, the lyrics taking over the quiet room, as the two of us sat there absorbing the lyrics. “This song is called Chaos and Piss.”
When the song ended, she looked at me, eyes soft but just as piercing as they usually were. I tipped my head to the side, admiring her like a complex puzzle to figure out.
“You pick this for a reason?” I asked, voice lowering an octave. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d chosen this one because it reminded her of someone. Maybe me.
“Not initially,” she admitted.
I broke into a roar of laughter, not giving a shit even if she’d had me in mind when she’d chosen this song. She thought I was dark now? She didn’t know the half of it.
My phone went off and my laugh was cut short when I moved to the kitchen table to grab it. I breathed easier when my mom told me that Tammy was improving rapidly. When I hung up a moment later, I relayed the new information to Maddison. “That was my mom. She says Tammy is heading home in the morning. She’s going to stay at the hospital with her tonight.”
“Oh, Kyler, that’s great.”
“Yeah.” I shrugged before moving back to the plush rug and skimming the music again. “I think I should show you some real music.”
“Pink is real music. Thank you very much.” She shot a pout at me.
“You’re pretty cute when you’re tryin’ to be bratty. These rich chicks are real
ly rubbing off on you,” I said, before quickly adding, “The brat part, not the cute part. I have a feeling that cute quality is all you.” I sat there, her eyes burning right through me.
“Cute, huh?” A frown darted across her face. “Why does that sound like an insult coming from you, Kyler Sinclair?”
My grin cocked to one side, the realization that she was right not surprising at all, the realization that she knew me better than I thought, totally. “Hate to say it, but in this case...” I bit down on my lip ring before moving in slowly, one fingertip tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.
A visible shudder passed through her that seemed to jump the barrier of space between us.
She sucked in a slow breath, eyes laser-focused on my bottom lip. I grinned, tugging the loop between my teeth to play with it a moment before doing the only thing I’d been thinking of and pressed my lips to hers in a feathery kiss.
I was frozen at first, unmoving, with the shock of her silky flesh against mine. I brushed the tip of my tongue along the seam, probing gently before I got greedy and pushed my way in with force. Her body swayed against mine, relaxing when my hands slid up her arms, over her shoulders and then grazed her bare clavicle.
“Kyler…” My name was so wispy on her lips I nearly lost my mind.
I groaned in her mouth, thrusting my tongue deeper, tasting her in deft strokes, demanding and wild, angry with her for making me feel this way. She tasted so good, I hated that I liked everything about her so much.
“Say it again,” I hushed, thumbs stroking the arch of her neck.
Shudders of desire prickled her skin before she whispered again, “Kyler…”
I felt my fucking heart lodge in my throat, overwhelming sensations vibrating through every part of me.
Because of her.
The mouse.
“Jesus.” The cold truth of us doused my senses. “Jesus Christ, what was I thinking?”
I dropped her face from my palms, missing her silky skin under my fingers instantly. I shook my head, unable to look her in the eye before backing away, violent huffs of breath surging through my lungs before I spun, fighting the urge to storm out of my own house. I didn’t care where I went, as long as it took me as far away from the mouse as I could get.
A chill of hate soaked my bones like my favorite blanket.
“You should go.” I crossed to the opposite side of the kitchen. The look on her face was a medley of pain, shock, lust and hate. I hoped the hate would win out and she would stay the fuck away from me.
I was fucked up, complicated. She was something good in the world. I would just ruin her--destroy her, until she was nothing. Her light would be ground up into dust under the heavy hand of my issues.
The tears streaming down her face made me feel like the monster I was. I wanted to go to her, to tell her I was sorry but the truth was, she wasn’t broken yet, she was just bent, and if I went to her, I would eventually break her into a thousand tiny pieces.
Solidifying me as an asshole forever.
“Please leave.” The words softly flowed from my lips, my eyes glued on her shattered face.
I was an asshole.
“You have some serious issues, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know. Now get your shit and leave me alone.” When she didn’t move, I opened the front door, gesturing to her to leave. “Now.”
She fumbled her way towards me and ran out. Leaving me alone, exactly what I’d wanted. But as soon as she left, I felt the warmth disappear and the chill rise through my entire body.
15
“I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not confess to my own soul.” ― Bram Stoker, Dracula
Madison
The fall leaves evaporated, dissolving softly into a blanket of pure, angel-white snow. I’d managed to keep myself busy, pouring all my energy into my studies. Kyler turned nineteen. Little fanfare was had, and I only found out that night at dinner when Monica announced that she’d offered to order him a cake to celebrate, but he’d declined by slamming the door of the pool house in her face. A fight began then, with Tamlin accusing her mother of being cold and uncaring, and Monica complaining about how spoiled both of her children became despite her best efforts.
Kyler’s birthday was an unhappy one, had by all, and he’d avoided it completely, his motorcycle parked outside the pool house all day and most of the night.
I avoided all the Sinclairs over the coming months, even giving Tamlin space, splitting my time between the library and the guesthouse and avoiding as many family dinners as possible. My mother was kept busy most days and nights, always with Mrs. Sinclair, their heads joined together, thick as thieves.
I’d avoided Kyler since the night he’d kissed me and then discarded me like trash. I wanted nothing to do with him and the whiplash he brought with him. Calling Kyler a head case was the understatement of the century.
Most of my nights were spent eating dinner alone at the kitchen table, followed by cuddling in my bed with a book before drowsiness took over and I drifted into a fitful sleep.
I was shocked when I woke to the sound of tapping on the front door one night. Turning over, the clock read just after two in the morning, so I climbed out groggily only to find mom was already there.. She picked up the small package, the only thing on the porch, wrapped in recycled brown paper with a red, silk bow wrapped around it.
“It’s for you.” Mom handed me the gift and right there in pretty handwriting my full name was written in cursive.
Madison
I pulled on the pretty bow and it unraveled in gentle waves, the soft fabric hitting the floor at my bare feet. I gently unpacked the present and was surprised to find an iPhone. Attached to it was a little note that said listen to me.
“Who’s it from?” Mom peered over my shoulder.
“No idea.” I walked back into my room, closing the door, not wanting to discuss any of it with my mother, because deep down, I knew who it was from.
Kyler. It was the only thing that made sense; he was the only person, other than Tammy, that I’d gotten to know here.
Laying back on my pillows, I stared at the gift, tracing my finger along the brightly lit screen. My fingers searching for the playlist as if they had a mind of their own. I wasn’t even a little surprised to find one custom playlist titled: Songs for Maddy
There were three songs. I hit play.
The first was Isolation by Joy Division. A song about brimming with loneliness, disillusionment and shame. I listened to the lyrics, playing them repeatedly before moving on to the next one. The next song was Wake Me Up by Avicii. This song I already knew and loved, but listening to it now in this context, the upbeat tempo wasn’t my focus but the message of a life unlived and regret the only reality. The last song was Come as You Are by Nirvana, a song I was very familiar with. One thing that was interesting about all of them, the one commonality other than how each was incredibly sad in their own right, they also all happened to be written by men that’d ended up killing themselves.
I didn’t know what to think, only quiet panic took hold of my heart and twisted violently, making it hard for me to breathe. All these months I’d just thought of Kyler as a callous jerk, but what if something else was really happening? I’d seen the way he was worried about Tammy...the way he could be so gentle and kind. It was almost as if something overtook him physically when bouts of kindness shone through the darkness that made him push people away. The only way he seemed to self-regulate was through cruelty. One thing I didn’t know...why now? Why did Kyler feel like now--months after our kiss, months after avoiding each other fully and completely--that he needed to send me this?
I threw the iPhone on the bed, turned away and tried to will myself back to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Kyler’s piercing blue gaze staring intensely back at me. Leaving me restless, feverishly hot and cold all at the same time.
16
“Be with me always - t
ake any form - drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
Kyler
It’d been months since I’d last spoken to the little mouse.
It should have been a relief, but I was a mess, more of a mess than I already was. Madison had managed to weasel her way into my blood, settling there like a virus waiting to infect my entire being, until all I could do was obsess about her.
She attacked so hard and fast that she’d left me reeling. I wanted to be near her. I skulked around campus and the manor like a creeper, desperate to get one glimpse of her. She usually hung around in the library, her cute little nose buried in the pages of a book, chewing on the cap of a pen, forehead scrunched in concentration.
I loved how she held her pen while she took notes, every few minutes patting the paper, as if proud of her small accomplishments. She was a ray of sunshine in my otherwise dreary life. I didn’t know what to do or say. There were too many times I was a complete jerk to her, and if she never spoke to me again, no one--not even me--would blame her. She’d become a fucked up obsession for me. I needed to be around her. It was a compulsion I couldn’t explain. Madison was the first person in my life that actually made me feel like I could breathe.
It was an uncomfortable feeling.
I found myself walking around the grounds near the guesthouse, thinking that she might come out and I could tease her until that pretty, pink blush bloomed on her delicate, creamy skin. But no matter how long I walked around hoping to accidentally on purpose bump into her, she eluded me.
I finally couldn’t take it and knew that I’d need to do something to get her attention. I needed her to think about me as much as I thought about her. I wanted her to have my face burned into her brain, the way hers was branded on mine. So I sent her an iPhone with some songs. Songs that told her how I felt without actually having to talk to her.
Ruthless: Black Mountain Academy Page 6