OUTLAW KING (13 page)

“You’re starting to make me worry,” Linds said. She touched my cheek. “I wish…”

I turned my head and kissed her fingers. “Sweetie, I know what you wish. Right now, I have to get through this. Let me get back and we’ll talk. All I can do right now is survive. This is how I’m going to survive, sweetie.”

“I hate when you say things like that to me,” Linds said. “Because I trust you so much.”

“I’m always going to protect you. That’s why I need you to do what I say. Go to your aunt’s house and just stay there. If she asks why, tell her what happened with that prick. Then bring up me. She always liked me. Right?”

“Yes. A little too much, honestly.”

“Remember the night at your graduation party… she let all those kids drink at the house. And you were with that Scott guy.”

“Ugh. Scott. That guy…”

“You were with him though. Be careful what you say. But all I remember was him in the basement, trying to see how many beers he could drink at one time. I snuck upstairs to your bedroom, a little trip down memory lane. Standing there, staring at the room. The bed. Goddamn, that house was such a sense of freedom for you. I had so many intentions and they just never worked out. Like there was always something blocking my fucking way. That’s when you came upstairs after me.”

“I thought someone went up there to have sex,” Linds said. “I was going to break that up fast. But then you were standing there. I swear, King, that was such a moment for me. I spent the night trying to ignore and almost avoid you.”

“Yeah, it didn’t show,” I said with a grin. “Watching you throw your arms all around Scott, trying to kiss him. Trying to make me jealous.”

“Did it work?”

“Maybe it did,” I whispered. “But I’ll never tell.” I winked and kissed her. “But we stood there in the room together. I could feel the fire between us right then. Then your damn aunt came into the room. Trying to manage the entire party. Remember what she said to us?”

“Yeah,” Linds said. “
If you’re going to do this… do it right now. I’ll cover you two and keep an eye on Scott
.”

Fuck. She remembered it word for word. The way her aunt said it and then the way we both looked each other that night, wondering if we should have done it.

History lesson: we didn’t do anything that night.

“I regret that,” I said. “Not pursuing you that night. I’ll never forget that night and I’ll never forgive myself.”

We kissed again. I pulled her close to my chest. I wanted her to feel my heart beating for her. I wanted to feel her heart beating.

I had to leave.

I had to figure out the mess I was smack dab in the middle of.

I had my girl. I had my cut. I had the Reap. I had a death row sentence hanging over my head.

I kissed the top of Linds’s head and smiled.

Fuck, she was the only thing that truly made me happy.

23

⁽
L
indsey)

*
THEN*

T
HE BREAKING POINT
had been reached.

It was a little after ten-thirty. I was in bed, watching TV. Another argument had broken out downstairs. Jim and Aunt Jane’s voices carried like rolling booms of thunder. She had told him she wanted out and he wasn’t going without a fight. I told her she was dumb for doing that. She should have just left him. We could have found somewhere to sleep for a little while.

But what did I know?

I turned eighteen six months ago. The world still considered me a kid, no voice to be heard.

Aunt Jane said she was buying a house and that’s why we had to be patient.

Whatever.

I turned up the volume on the TV.

The argument continued and finally came to an end.

That usually meant Aunt Jane would come upstairs to bed and Jim would go down the basement and drink. There was a rumor that Jim had a girlfriend already, which I know hurt Aunt Jane, even if they were getting divorced.

When my bedroom door opened I figured it was Aunt Jane. Sometimes she’d come to me to cry. She’d sit on the edge of the bed and cry her eyes out, apologizing to me. That put a lot of pressure on me to act more adult-like, even though nobody seemed to care when I wanted to do something for myself.

Like live with King.

I had wanted to do that for a long time but it always got shut down.

I popped my head up from the bed and saw Jim entering my room. He was holding a bottle of scotch.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“That’s no way to talk to me,” he said in a slurred voice. “You’re getting that bitchy attitude from your aunt.”

“Get out of my room.”

“This is my room,” he said. “Every room in this house is my room. I pay the fucking mortgage, don’t I? I pay for everything.”

Jim stumbled to my closet and opened it. He started to tear clothes out, throwing them to floor. Each time he did so, he said
I paid for this!,
which wasn’t true at all. I worked hard. I saved money. I bought my own stuff.

I climbed out of bed, secretly tucking my cell phone into my back pocket.

“Jim, please don’t,” I said.

He turned and was holding a tank top. “I’d like to see you in this. Nothing but this.”

“Ew,” I said.

He threw the tank top to the floor. “You owe me. Teasing me for a long time. Knowing what you look like. Knowing the kind of guy I am.”

A second later he was touching me. One hand on my shoulder, the other hand reaching for my waist. I swung my foot, kicking his shin. He let out a yell and then lifted his hand, slapping me against my jaw. I fell back into my desk, knocking over a lamp.

Jim came after me, his body was too close to mine. There was something disgusting burning in his eyes.

“Help!” I screamed.

Jim cackled. He grabbed my hair and turned, pulling me toward my bed.

My bedroom door blasted open again and Aunt Jane was there.

“Jim!” she yelled. “No!”

“Shut up!” Jim yelled. “This is her fault. I’m going to make everyone pay for this.”

Aunt Jane came after Jim. She hit him with her shoulder, sending him stumbling away from me.

I kicked back on the bed and grabbed for my cell phone.

I watched in horror as Jim and Aunt Jane were literally wrestling each other. Spinning around. Aunt Jane hitting the dresser, sending the TV to the edge. Picture frames crashing to the floor. Grunts. Growls. Curse words. Nasty words like
slut
and
cunt
being thrown around.

I was never so scared in all my life.

So I did what felt right - even if it was wrong.

I sent a text to King.

B
Y THE TIME
King got to the house, the situation had calmed a little. Aunt Jane and I were downstairs in the kitchen, both of us frazzled and crying.

King was at the back door, opening it, rushing inside.

“Where is he?” King asked.

“What did you do?” Aunt Jane asked me.

I opened my mouth but I couldn’t respond.

“You two stay right here,” King said.

“Wait!” I cried out.

But King was already on the move.

He literally met Jim face to face at the large archway of the kitchen. Jim had another bottle of booze in his hand.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jim said when he saw King.

King put a hand out and pushed at Jim’s chest. “You stay the fuck back. You’re done here.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, asshole.”

“You touched them?” King asked. “You put your hands on not one woman, but two? One you married? One I love?”

“Fuck off, punk,” Jim said.

King swung and punched the bottle out of Jim’s hand. It hit the floor and broke.

Jim jumped at King.

“Stop!” Aunt Jane yelled.

But it was too late.

This was a long time coming and building.

King grabbed Jim by the shirt and spun him around and threw him into the kitchen island. He went right after Jim, throwing a punch, connecting with Jim’s jaw. Jim toppled to the floor, right on his ass. He then started to kick, over and over.

I couldn’t see Jim but I could hear the sound of the thuds as King kicked Jim.

“Stop him right now,” Aunt Jane said to me.

I lunged forward and almost over the island. I grabbed King by his shirt.

“King. Stop. You can’t kill him.”

King looked at me. I told myself I would never forget that look. The rage. The hatred. Knowing that the man he was finally going after was the man who kept us apart for years. Ruined perhaps the greatest love story we’d both ever encounter.

King stopped.

He then walked around the island and hugged me. I hugged him back. I broke down in tears.

“He can’t ever do that again,” King said, talking right to Aunt Jane.

“He won’t,” Aunt Jane said. “We’re leaving. Tonight.”

“Good,” King said. “Figure out what happens and let me know what to prepare for.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, looking up at King.

“I beat him up in his own house,” King said. “I’m going to go to jail for that.”

“No you’re not,” Aunt Jane said. “If he thinks about calling the police I’ll have him put away for hitting me and Lindsey.”

“Okay,” King said. “Do whatever you need to do. I can help, too. I can find a place for you two. Somewhere to hide from him.”

That was one of the most important nights of my life. The best and worst all mixed together.

King grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. Our eyes locked right there in the kitchen. A house of hell. Jim on the floor, groaning in pain. Aunt Jane somewhere behind me.

“I fucking love you, sweetie,” King whispered. “I’ll always take care of you.”

“I love you, King,” I whispered back.

“You two get out of here,” Aunt Jane said. “I’m trusting you, Kingston. Just go. Keep her safe.”

“Always,” King said.

And just like that, King grabbed me by the hand and led me out of that house.

I cried and smiled at the same time when I climbed on the back of his motorcycle.

I threw the middle finger to the house as he sped away.

I had loved King for a long time before that night.
But that was the night I knew I would never truly be happy unless I was with him.

24

⁽
L
indsey)

A
FTER A STAFF MEETING
revealed the intentions to close the facility I was drained and ready for a drink. Going to Aunt Jane’s proved to be wise because she always had wine ready to go. Along with pot, but I didn’t touch the stuff. She didn’t smoke around me though, which I respected. And even the wine, I managed one glass and then quit because it didn’t sit right. Nothing sat right. All I could do was stare at my cell phone, waiting for time to speed up so King would come back.

I had no clue where he was. Why he was there. What he was doing. And if he’d actually come back. Waiting a week was torture, but if something happened and he was gone for weeks, months, or years (again), I was screwed.

“So you need to stay here why?” Aunt Jane asked. “Leaky gas? Water main break? Bugs?”

I looked at Aunt Jane. “King told me to.”

“Kingston. Again.”

“Not again. He was never…”

“So that guy you were seeing,” Aunt Jane said.

“And the guy you were seeing? The one younger than me?”

She waved a hand. “He fell too hard and fast. I had to let him go. Packed his lunchbox and sent him away to the bus stop.”

“That is gross,” I said. “So gross.”

Aunt Jane grinned. “Tell me about King.”

“You know about King. He somehow got out of prison and now he’s gone to do something, somewhere. He told me I should stay with you. Things with Nelson didn't end so well.”

I gave her to quick, one minute story of what happened the night Nelson hit me and King beat the shit out of him.

All Aunt Jane could do was smile. I always knew that Aunt Jane had a thing for King. At least that was one obsession she could manage to control herself from though. She knew what King had always meant to me.

“Oh, Kingston,” Aunt Jane said. “Always the same. You two were always on that path together.”

“What path is that?”

“Destiny,” she said. “It’s a tough path though because no matter what, you’re always going to feel it for each other.”

“That strangely makes sense,” I said. “I have no clue what he’s doing and no clue what’s going to happen.”

“So you take what’s in front of you and run with it,” Aunt Jane said. “That’s what I would do.”

“I want more. Is that wrong?”

“You want more,” Aunt Jane said and nodded. “Who doesn’t want more? That’s why we’re alive and doing what we do. Sometimes you just have to accept what’s here and that has to become good enough.”

“That’s the thing, Aunt Jane. King hasn’t told me much.”

“And what do you want him to say? If he tells you the truth and it breaks your heart, how does anyone win?”

I adverted my eyes. I knew she was right.

“What about you?” I asked her. “You’ll never settle because of destiny.”