Violence Begets... (27 page)

“What? You think you can just take off
for five days without letting anyone know where you are?”

I was exhausted and honestly didn’t
care much what happened to me after seeing what Kevin had gone through, so I just
stared at him. I really was shocked that he had even realized how long I’d been
gone.

“No excuse? No explanation? Give me
your phone.”

“What? No,” I replied automatically.

“Well, we already shut the service off.
We’re not going to pay for it if we can’t get a hold of you. You might as well hand
it over.”

“You have no right.” I yelled at him.

“The hell I don’t,” he said as he stepped
towards me, landing the back of his fist against my face. I stumbled into the couch
and when my eyes focused, I saw Sylvia and Emma standing in the entryway, shopping
bags in their arms, staring at us. In seconds, I was kneeling down in front of Emma.

“Hey schmunchkin! Did you see that?
Wasn’t that cool? Dad's showing me some blocking moves for football. Do you think
that will keep those guys away from the ball?” I asked, smiling through the pain,
seeing the fear in her eyes. When she didn’t respond to me, I turned to my dad.
“Right dad?” With his blank stare jumping from Emma and back to me, I repeated,
“Right dad, you were just showing me some football moves?”

“Yeah, yeah sure honey,” he managed,
finally catching on. He walked over and mussed her hair just as I picked her up
in my arms. She was getting almost too big to carry, but I couldn’t think of anything
else to do. With a slight smile, I saw that she was beginning to accept our lies.
I wanted to whisk her away from what she’d seen, so once she was in my arms I said,
“Let’s go for a walk, shall we? I need to hear all about your week since I haven’t
been home.” I glanced behind me, daring either of them to try to stop me as I walked
out the front door with her.

Thankfully, my father had been too rattled
to follow through on any punishment he might have had planned for me, so in the
following days I was able to try and figure out the best way to handle what I had
to do with Kevin. On his first night back to Zarahemla, if I hadn’t known better
I would’ve had no idea what he’d been through. No one mentioned what had happened
with Charlie or Kevin’s subsequent disappearance. I marveled at the damage his father
had been able to do while leaving little-to-no physical evidence. His ankles and
wrists were still bruised and swollen but easily hidden with a long-sleeved shirt
and jeans. I wondered, not for the first time, if this had been one of the worst
punishments for Kevin. I couldn’t imagine it getting more deranged than what I’d
seen. I firmly believed what Kevin had told me—his dad was a sociopath.

I ducked out the back of Zarahemla,
dreading what I knew was coming. Tensions were high, and I knew Kevin wanted to
reestablish his power within the group. He was pushing all the right buttons, just
waiting for someone to snap. But after what the guys had seen him do to Charlie,
no one was taking the bait easily. I took a long hit on my joint and fought the
urge to cough. Kevin could fake being okay all he wanted, but I knew his body was
still fighting to recover.

“Hey.” I heard him walk up behind me.
He brushed his hand against my back briefly as he stopped next to me. I didn’t respond.
“So, I told them I was coming out to find you. Mind looking all pissed off at me
and shit when we go back in there? They’re just not giving me what I need tonight,”
he said lightly.

“I think I need to make myself scarce,”
I blurted out, not intending to start this conversation but somehow being unable
to contain it any longer.

He glanced sideways at me, his near-black
eyes dancing a little as they took me in.

“Okay, I guess I can just tell ‘em I
sent you home. My father is out of town, so maybe you can come over later?”

It’d been nearly two weeks since we’d
been together, and the way he was looking at me made me realize that what I was
about to do was going to be harder than I’d originally thought.

“I mean, like permanently,” I said into
the darkness, looking away from him.

“What?”

“This is not working out. Things are
a mess.”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot.” I could
hear the nerves in his voice. “Why would you even think that’s a good idea?”

“It was your idea.”

“Bullshit it was.”

“You told me to leave.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t.”

“At your house, when I first found you.”
I felt him flinch next to me. We hadn’t talked about what I’d seen, and I wasn’t
sure he even remembered me being at his house. "You said it yourself. You’re
out of control when I’m around.”

“Leave my house, not me you fucking
idiot. You’re unexpected and aggravating as fuck, but you didn’t point a gun at
my head. That was all him.”

It was my turn to flinch. He hadn’t
mentioned the gun, and he didn’t know I’d seen his dad with it. I shut my eyes to
the memory.

“But that wouldn’t have happened if
I wasn’t here to make you lose your focus. You’ve pretty much said it yourself.
Losing control could cost you your life.”

“Since when do you listen to me?”

“Where’d you go after Charlie?”

“What?”

“You were MIA for three or four days,
where’d you go?”

“I had to get my head on straight.”

“Where’d you go?”

“The roof at school.”

“You sat on the roof for four days?”

“Yeah, so?”

“What were you on?”

“What the fuck does it matter?”

“It matters to me. What were you on,
Kevin?”

“Fine. Meth,” he said angrily.                                                                              

“That’s just what I’m talking about.
You don’t do that. You’re losing it, out of control, and you know it. Have you even
had time to crash through everything that’s happened in the last two weeks? You’ve
been so messed up that you haven’t been able to pull it all together and deal with
it.”

“No—” he tried to cut me off me.

“No lies, no games, Kevin. You’re dad
even said it. You’ve lost your focus.”

“How the fuck do you know what my father
said?” he interrupted me.

I ignored him and kept going. “I know
you’ve thought about it. Even today, as you strut around in there, you’re walking
a thin line. I’m destroying you.” Part of me wished he’d grab me and shake me and
tell me I was wrong, but I knew he couldn’t.

“You’re out of your mind. This is not
the answer. I won’t let you go.”

As I'd sat in his bathroom hour after
hour, I’d known it would come to this.

“You don’t have to let me go. I’m going
to let you go.” I glanced behind me to make sure no one was able to see us, and
I kissed him, careful to keep a lookout for the guys. I felt the tears well up and
my stomach turn to stone as I realized it would be the last time. I threaded my
fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth against mine, wanting to savor his taste,
to remember the feel of his rough skin against mine, to hold onto him. I knew I
was about to break both our hearts, and I prayed we’d be strong enough to handle
it. I hated myself for what I had to do as I broke away from him and walked briskly
into Zarahemla.

Kevin

“You can go to hell!” I heard Rick say
behind me. I was still trying to compose myself after his kiss. I brought my fingers
to my lips, touching the skin he’d just lit on fire. I turned at the sound of anger
in his voice, curious who he was talking to. “I’m tired of you bossing me around.”
I followed after him. “Seriously, Kevin, I’m done with all of this.” My stomach
clenched as realization slammed into me.

“Knock it off, Rick.” I said, pleading
with him in my heart to stop what he was doing but clipping my voice for the guys
to hear.

“Make me,” he said, letting the words
hang in the air. “After what I saw you do the other night, I don’t want to be part
of this little gang of yours.”

“It’s not really your choice.” I said,
throwing words I knew would’ve come easily if it were any of the others. Goddamnit.
He knew I couldn’t back down twice in front of them.

“What are you gonna do about it?” he
challenged.

“Do not push me, Rick,” I snarled at
him, truly meaning every word I said.

“What are you gonna do Kevin, hit me?”

It was a fucking low blow, and he knew
it. I felt my heart constrict, remembering my promise to him. He swore if I did,
he’d leave. I threw him against the wall and growled at him.

“Fucking stop this bullshit.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. I barely
heard him, just saw his lips move. He pushed me back. “You’re pathetic. You ran
away from a fight the other night and now you're scared to even throw a punch. What
happened to you? Maybe you really are a sissy!”

“Goddamnit!” I cursed. I felt coldness
clamp around my heart.
One,
I thought, shut out thoughts of the guys.
Two,
shut out thoughts of my father.
Three,
shut out thoughts of Rick.
Four,
shut out the pain. As I pulled my arm back, I knew I was about to destroy all that
was good in my life. But good didn’t keep me alive.

He relaxed, taking my own advice to
absorb the hit rather than tense against it. He stumbled several feet. “That’s all
you got?” he flung at me, and I threw another punch. Fighting against everything
my brain was screaming at me, I stepped into a swing that folded into his stomach
as he curled over, coughing. Though I knew I hadn’t landed it nearly as hard as
I could have, guilt racked me at the thought of worsening any injury left by his
dad.

“You done?” I glared at him.

“Still a fairly weak punch there, Kev,”
he coughed.

I grabbed him and threw him on the ground,
making a show of wrapping my fingers around his neck but applying no pressure. I
leaned close to him and whispered frantically in his ear. “How far are you going
to push me?”

“‘Til they hear you tell me to leave
and never come back,” he said quietly.

I raised my voice and regretted the
punch that followed. “Still think my punches are weak?” I lowered my voice and spat
furiously at him, “I will not say that.”

“You’ve already lost me. You broke your
promise. Make it official.” He knew damn well that if I threw him out in front of
the guys, I’d have no fucking choice but to stand behind my words. Goddamn him!

“Never,” I gritted through my teeth
as I stood up, turning my back to him. There was no way I was going to do what he
wanted.

In near slow motion, I tried to block
out the sounds of him advancing on me. “I hate you,” he cried at me. I felt his
foot connect with the small of my back the same moment his words tore into my heart.
My back arched from the pain, and I fell to my knees first, then down on all fours
as my hands slid into the dirt. My muscles screamed at me and my wrists caught fire.
I closed my fingers around the rocks in the sand to absorb some of the sting. I
was completely shocked when his foot caught me again, this time in the stomach,
my body flipping and landing flat on my back. It’d only been a few days since I’d
gotten myself out of bed and my body was far from fucking healed. I pulled in my
breath, fighting against the pain.

I was a fighter, and my adrenaline kicked
in. As the blackness of the world descended into my vision, all I saw was Rick standing
over me. Instinct took over, and I rolled to the side before he had the chance to
strike again, springing to my feet. Rage blinded me, and I saw red. I used the shattered
pieces of my heart like weapons of glass, letting them tear me up inside and give
me the ammunition to take control. I took several steps towards him and alarm flooded
his face. He knew he’d pushed too far. The image of Charlie pinned against the wall,
my blade at his throat, tore to the surface. It brought with it the memory of Rick’s
confession of love. I stopped a moment before I laid into him, straining to find
anything that would keep me from destroying him. Face to face, his fear of me was
tangible.

“Come back and I will kill you,” I said,
not recognizing my own voice. He stood for a second before stumbling backwards.
Walk the fuck out of here, I prayed. One more fucking word from him, and I was scared
shitless of what I’d do.

Rick

My heart exploded at the sight of his
pain. Praying I was making the right decision yet knowing I was saving his life,
I told myself he could handle whatever I’d done. He’d handled worse. After all,
he’d still be alive, and that was better than anything I could offer him.

Every step I took towards home grew
heavier. The selfish part of me screamed to go to him and take back what I’d done,
but it wasn’t about me anymore. I couldn’t risk his life just so I didn’t have to
think about the hurt I’d caused. It was about keeping him alive, and as long as
I was around, he couldn’t focus. And without his focus, his dad could kill him.
I’d been stupid not to hear it all along.

I paused as I pulled myself into my
window, waiting to see if I could hear movement within the house. After my recent
disappearing act I wasn’t looking for another run-in with my dad. As I shut the
window behind me, my hand hesitated over the lock. It’d been over a year since I’d
tried to keep him out. The moment it clicked into place I flicked it open again.
I can’t do this,
I thought. I stood for several more minutes, hand on the
clasp, finally making the decision to lock it and pull the blinds closed.

I curled up into a ball on the bed,
dreading the nightmares that were sure to come. I fought off sleep for as long as
I could, and it crossed my mind to be grateful to my dad for shutting off my phone.
At least I didn’t have to battle the added temptation to call Kevin if I didn’t
have my phone.

I rolled over and wasn’t at all surprised
when I heard scuffling at my window. I could hear him trying to pry it open and
then silence. I stared at the blinds, ears straining to hear any sound from outside.
I could almost sense him glaring at me on the other side. I knew he’d be furious
at me for what I’d done. As sleep evaded me, my eyes stayed glued to the window,
desperately listening for his presence. At some point, I must have drifted off.

The night air was chilled, but I couldn’t
feel it, and there was the crunching of glass beneath my shoes as I struggled to
get free from the car and the smell of gasoline. I looked up and down the nearly
deserted road, spotting something lying in the distance.

“Jason?” I called as I staggered towards
the unmoving form. As I got close, someone pulled me away, but I yanked myself free
and sank to my knees as the blood-covered, mangled flesh and jet-black hair registered
in my head.

“Kevin! Noooooo!” I wailed at the repulsive
scene at my feet.

“He lost his focus,” a voice said as
a form appeared, standing over the remains of Kevin’s body. His dad, gun hanging
loosely in his hand, began to laugh…then the sound of a gunshot.

I jerked, falling off my bed. Fighting
the urge to scream out with the pain of Jason’s death and with the sinking horror
of what may lay in Kevin’s future playing at the edges of my mind, I made no move
to get back in bed. With tears streaming down my face, it felt like the first day
of school all over again—no friends and a heartache that threatened to kill me.

When the time came to get ready I dressed
in the same clothes as the night before. The sun was creeping in through the kitchen
window, casting rays of dust particles through the room. I killed time by smoking
in the backyard after everyone had left, then started towards the corner shortly
after I knew he’d be walking with the guys to school. Hard as it was going to be,
I knew the safest place for me would be near the guys. As long as they were within
earshot, he’d have no choice but to treat me as the outcast he’d made me.

I held my breath as I approached, praying
I’d timed it well. He leaned against the cement wall, and as he caught a glimpse
of me, he pushed off the wall and started walking away. Nervously, the guys glanced
at me and followed him. It was what I’d wanted to have happen, but the unexpected
burning in my eyes had me drawing in a ragged breath.
It’ll get easier,
I
thought.

I talked to the counselor and my teacher
at the school, convincing them that I needed to drop the class I had with Kevin.
I told them I had a great job opportunity and that I needed to be released for work-study.
I had a plan to finish the coursework independently. Overall, I’d always been a
good student, and it wasn’t hard to have all the right paperwork signed by my dad.
Kevin had taught me a few things. At lunch, I made it a point to disappear into
the drama hall, knowing Kevin wouldn’t dream of venturing into that nobody-land.

After school, I walked behind him again,
hoping my public humiliation might play on any feelings he had for me. If he saw
how hard everything was for me, maybe he’d leave me alone. I knew I only had to
avoid him for the last two weeks of school. After that, I’d have to figure out what
to do with my life without him. I tried playing video games, but they reminded me
of him—everything did. My dad was slamming things around the second he walked in
with Emma, so I found refuge in my bedroom.

With nothing to keep me busy, I started
to crumble. I crawled into my closet and shut the door. The darkness descended and
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from escaping. I thought about
Kevin being locked in his closet for days, and I found it almost comforting being
close to his suffering. It was morbid and horrible, but being close to any part
of him was better than tossing and turning in my own nightmares.

Towards the end of the second day without
Kevin in my life, Jessica caught up with me in the hall.

“You okay?” She asked.

“Fine.”

“Really? You don’t look fine.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve been hearing things…” she wanted
me to finish.

“There’s nothing to hear.”

“You’re not hanging with them anymore.
There must be some truth.”

“I’m sure there is, but I’m too tired
to care what others are saying.” I cringed at the word tired. It didn’t even come
close to explaining how I felt.

“I heard you two got in a fight.”

“You heard right.”

“That’s huge. I hear the last guy he
fought he almost killed.”

“Is there a point to all this, Jessica?”
I sighed.

“Yeah, I’m worried about you.” I slowed
my pace, aware of her concern.        

“Really, I’m fine. He’s a jerk, and
I’d had enough. We’re not friends anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I said as I bit
my lip, trying to fight down the emotion that threatened to crack through my voice.

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Well,
in any case, why don’t you come over this weekend? I’m having a few friends over.”

I smiled. It sounded really nice. “I’ll
try.” And I meant it when I said it.

That night I fixed a bowl of ramen for
dinner and sat and watched it steam on the kitchen table, the smell of the fake
Asian spices doing nothing for my appetite. As I stirred the soup, I tried to think
of the last time I’d eaten; I couldn’t remember, but I didn’t care.

As the sun set, I found myself on the
closet floor again. I’d heard Kevin try my window and it sounded like he had banged
his palm on the pane in frustration. I sat frozen, pulled into myself, scared to
move as I pictured him angry and slamming his fist through the glass. My mind raced
with ideas of what I’d do if he broke into my room. Would he burst in and kiss me
or hit me? The tears that swept me into sleep were much different than the tears
that jolted me awake as Kevin’s bloody body screamed into my dreams.

On the third day, I ran into him twice
in the hallway at school. The first time, we stopped, staring. His eyes had narrowed
at me, fists clenching, but I couldn’t read his expression. It looked as if he were
about to say something, then his eyes darted around, noticing the slowing of the
crowds. We were definitely a source of gossip. He shoved past me, nearly knocking
me down. The second time I saw him, he didn’t slow his pace.

Kevin

 It had been sixty-eight days since
he’d walked out on me, fifty-five days since graduation, thirteen since my last
serious punishment and only seventeen days until I turned eighteen and got the fuck
out of this bullshit town. My plan was San Francisco. I wanted sex, and that was
the best place I could think of where I could earn some quick money and fuck until
my dick fell off.

I watched as the three guys walked out
the front door of the bar. The big guy was perfect. I waited until they were away
from the main entrance and the security cameras before I circled in front of them.
I shoved my hands in my pockets, ducked my head and quickened my pace. Heading right
towards them, I slammed my shoulder hard into the big one.

“Christ, watch where the fuck you’re
going!” I shouted, throwing my hands up, turning and taking a few steps backwards.

“What the hell’s your problem?” the
guy said, puffing up for his friends. It worked every time.

“Fucking drunk!” I flung at him.

As expected, he descended and my adrenaline
soared. I allowed him to take the first punch. It was like gambling. If they didn’t
win a little, why the hell would they keep playing? After letting him get in a few
good hits, I unleashed my rage, rushing at him again and again, connecting with
my fists, elbows, even my head—the harder the better. I wanted to have to wrap my
hands when I was through. I wanted to split my skin open, to throw my arm out of
socket, to see red blood, to feel the pain and destruction leave me and enter into
the loser who’d been stupid enough to take my bait.

It was one thing to pick a fight with
a big guy in front of his friends—he'd always try to win first—but brotherly loyalty
usually kicked in, and I wasn’t looking for uneven odds. As soon as his friends
entered the mix, I punched my way out and ran.

They gave chase for about a block, then
fell back. I slowed, spat the blood from my mouth and tongued the cut on my lip.
I tried to stay away from the headshots for the same reason I did with my father,
but sometimes the fuckers got lucky. I started to fuck with my lip, and it felt
good. The pain was consuming. As I made my way home, I bit down gently, then harder,
testing the limits of my own tolerance. Fucking pain was good.

Sleep hadn’t been my friend for years,
but in the last few months, we were flat out enemies. The damn bitch wouldn’t give
it up for anything. By the time I finally felt some semblance of being tired, the
sun was rising again and I had to endure another day. Even without school, my father
expected me to be working. I went through the motions of going to work every day,
but in reality I had enough money to get me through until I got to San Francisco.
It wasn’t hard to forge a paystub accounting for my hours. I didn’t need to actually
cash it, just convince my father it was real.

After showering and cleaning up my hands
from the night before, I started upstairs, all too aware that my father was still
home. Nervousness pricked at my skin. The balance in the house wasn’t right, and
I proceeded with caution to the kitchen where he was making himself some scrambled
egg whites.

He looked up casually at me as I entered,
then did a double take. I knew he was looking at my lip, well aware it hadn't come
from his hand.

“That’s the fourth time.”

Silence was often the best response
with him.

“People are going to start asking questions.”
He scraped the eggs onto a plate next to a piece of wholegrain toast. He leaned
back against the counter and started eating. I knew I wasn’t dismissed, so I gripped
the edge of the kitchen table, waiting for him to continue. Going out and trying
to fuck up the world helped, but it could get me in a lot of trouble with my father.
Taking bites of the eggs and chewing slowly, he finished eating his entire breakfast,
rinsed off the plate and put it in the dishwasher before speaking again.

“Against the wall,” he finally said,
tugging at his belt. My head dropped. Fuck. I pulled in my breath and started counting.
As I walked towards the nearest open wall, I reached over my head, grabbed a handful
of the back of my shirt and pulled it up and off in one motion. I tossed it into
the corner and positioned myself, relaxing my back muscles first, then my neck,
working my way through my upper arms and even reminding myself not to tighten my
hands against the wall. The first lash was always the hardest, jarring my muscles
into attention. As much as I tried to relax, the searing pain coursed through me.
I had to focus more than usual on letting my shoulder muscles go. Instead of focusing
on the throbbing, I focused on the marks I knew the belt would leave. I could picture
the exact wound each lash seared onto my body based on the angle, how much of it
I felt slice into my skin and the strength he put behind it. I could see the skin
changing colors, welting and splitting as he crashed down on the same area over
and over. I could feel my flesh start to tear and envisioned the wetness of the
blood running in single raindrop lines from the angry mess. I closed my eyes tightly,
thinking only of the imagery he was painting with his strokes.

“No more fighting,” he said as I heard
him slide his belt back on.