Thin Love (45 page)

“You got my shit, man?” He took a step, Marco moving out of his way.

Kona backed up, grabbed Marco by the collar to pull him to his side when Eddie pointed his gun at Ricky.

“Motherfucker…”

“I didn’t take shit, Ricky. You know that.” The gun trembled in Eddie’s hand and his voice was high pitched and shaking. “I’m your boy. You just need to chill, man. Be cool. You know me, man.”

“All I know is you got your gun pointed at my chest. Where’s my shit, Ed? What you do with it?”

At Eddie’s side, Keith held up his hands, but Kona watched his face, saw how his cheek twitched, how he tried to hold back a smile. Then, his eyes moved, stared right at Kona. “Ricky, man, you know Eddie wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t. Hale here is the only one trying to punk out. Look how jumpy he’s been all night.”

Kona stepped up, shoulders squared and Ricky inched back, gaze moving between Kona and the gun pointed right at him. “Fuck you, Keith,” Kona told the punk. “I want out but I’m not trying to gank anything. Don’t be a dumbass. You been sniffing around campus for months, selling to other teams, you think I don’t see you? You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Ricky would believe him, at least that’s what Kona told himself. Keith was a slimy shit, he’d heard Ricky complaining about the guy more than once, but when Keith smiled, nodded toward Kona, Ricky backed up further and moved the gun so it pointed at Kona’s head.

“You trying to play me, man? You been jumpy for months, ever since you got with that bitch.”

Kona had to clench his fists together, had to pull back his anger, his fear so that no one got itchy fingers. “No, man. I don’t have anything of yours. I don’t give a shit what you sell or how much you make doing it.” He took a step, cautiously, narrowing his eyes at Ricky’s finger curled around the trigger. “I just want out. I promise, I just want to get out of this shit.”

“And sell your own product, that right, Hale?” Keith’s voice, his pinched eyes, only added rage and ire onto the inferno building in Kona’s mind.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole. You don’t know me. You don’t know shit.”

“Yeah, but I do.” Ricky lowered his gun, only a fraction and behind him Keith and Eddie relaxed. Kona saw it, the quick whip of Ricky’s eyes, how he moved the corner of his mouth to the side, a small grin that told Kona that shit was about to go bad very quickly. “I know exactly who you are, Kona.” And then Ricky twisted around, squeezed off two shots right at Keith and Eddie. Both men fell to the ground, lifeless.

“Son of a bitch,” Marco said, behind them. “Ricky, man…”

“Shut up. Be cool,” Ricky told the kid and Kona stood frozen, eyes blurring as he stared down at the bodies. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to run and when he heard the whine of brakes behind him, heard car doors slamming, when he turned and saw Keira trailing behind Luka in the middle of the street, Kona wanted take back the past hour more than he’d wanted anything in his entire life. He wanted to be in her room, inside her, ignoring the world. He wondered if a twenty year old athlete could have a heart attack just from sheer terror.

“Kona, man,” Ricky said, checking the magazine in his gun. “This is a fucking problem.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Kona hadn’t let Keira move more than five feet from her car. He stalked angrily toward her, face pinched up like a cork, and for once Keira was truly afraid of her boyfriend. There was rage and fear in his eyes, and she could see, just from the way he moved toward them, that his hands were shaking and his limbs swung with a shudder. Keira held up her own hands, trying to calm him when Luka stepped in front of her, pushing back on his twin’s chest. Kona roared. “You stupid son of a bitch, you brought her here?” He had his hands around Luka’s collar, jerked him once before Keira could reach them.

“Kona, no. Stop, please!” She tried to touch him, needed to, but Kona deflected her hand with a jerk of his elbow. She stumbled once, trying to get him to detach his fingers from Luka’s collar.

“We were worried, brah.” Luka glanced behind Kona and his face went pale, eyes widening and when Keira’s gaze followed Luka’s her stomach sank; she stepped back, seeing the twins at her side and the bodies on the ground in front of her. A bitter, heavy taste rushed into her mouth and she thought she might vomit. Luka didn’t fight Kona, let his brother jerk him by the collar again before he shook his head, blinking as he looked up at his twin. “I knew this would go bad.” Another glance at the bodies on the ground and Luka brushed off Kona’s hands. “It went as bad as it could go, didn’t it?” Another nod and Kona stared at the limp forms lying on the ground. “This wasn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Kona’s jerked his attention back to his brother, his features tensing from the look Luka gave him, but before he could answer, Ricky stepped away from the Mustang, glaring at them. “Kona, we don’t have time for the family drama bullshit,” he called, before he barked orders at the kid dragging a body toward a dumpster.

Keira was mesmerized by the bodies on the ground. There was so much blood. So much blood everywhere. Stunned, stomach rumbling as she noticed Ricky in her peripheral wiping his gun against the sleeve of his coat, she took a step, only to have Kona grab her arm to stop her.

“Don’t look, Kiera,” Kona told her, blocking her from the blood with his large body. He shook her, gripped her face in her hands. “Why are you here? Why the hell are you here?” Her gaze went back to the blood and Kona pulled her chin.

“I… I had a bad feeling.” She swallowed against the knot in her throat and grabbed his fingers. “Baby did you do this?”

Kona dropped his hands, as though he’d been stung and he took two steps away from her. “You think I could?”

“No,” she told him, grabbing onto his arm. Keira inhaled, shook her head. “No I don’t.”

Keira wanted to tell him she was sorry, that she should have listened, but her heart was pounding too hard and that expression on Kona’s face—the one she knew was fury and fear—stunned her silent. This was the bad she’d known was coming the moment Kona left her room, and it wasn’t finished yet. If Keira knew anything, it was that the bad had not yet play itself out.

Kona’s stare only moved from Keira when Luka stood next to them, when his voice took on a desperate tone as Ricky walked away from the Mustang.

“Kona, let’s get out of here,” Luka said, pulling on his brother’s arms.

Kona was frightened, Keira knew that, but his pride, his forced bluster surfaced when Ricky met them in the middle of the street. “He’s not going anywhere. He owes me and he’s paying me back. Take that little bitch and get the fuck out of here.”

Kona jerked around, pushed Ricky so that the dealer stumbled back before he found his footing. “What did you say? What did you call her?”

“Back off, man.” Ricky’s voice was cool, calm, but Keira noticed his grip on the gun tighten. “I don’t have time for…” His comment was interrupted by the sounds sirens suddenly blaring in the distance. Ricky’s reaction was quick, fierce as he raised his gun at Kona. “You motherfucker. You fucking rat!”

“I didn’t do shit. I didn’t say shit to anybody.” Kona held up his hands, placating, sincere, but he side stepped, stood right in front of Keira.

The sirens squealed louder and Ricky seemed conflicted, mouth curled up and he rested his gun on his head as though he didn’t know what to believe or who to trust. “I shot my boy when it was you who ratted me out!”

“It wasn’t me, asshole.” Anger radiating from Kona, Keira felt the hard tremble in his shoulders and she pulled on his hoodie, making weak attempts to hold him back.

Everything happened in a blur—Ricky’s gun pointed back at Kona, cursing and loud, angry threats shouted, then, the blast of the gun against the screech of sirens and Keira’s scream, deafening and surreal to her own ears. She saw everything happen at once—Luka twisting forward, pushing Kona away, the glint of the gun from the street light and then Kona turning toward Keira as that loud shot rang out, vibrating in Keira’s ears.

And then she was falling, Kona on top of her, his chest against her face, his arms curled around her head. And time sped up with the sound of Ricky’s running feet and then the high burn of the Mustang’s tires squealing away on the pavement.

Keira registered Kona lifting off of her, pulling her to her feet, his hands racing over her body, his arms pulling her to his chest.

“You’re okay, Wildcat. Oh thank God. Thank God.” His hands shook has he held her against his chest.

She felt his back, broke free from his arm to skim her hands over his chest, only exhaling when she realized he hadn’t been hurt either. “You either. Oh God…”

“Lu, what about you?” Kona shifted, gaze rapid and around the street until he found his twin, lying on his back.

The bad kept coming.

“Luka!! No, no, fuck no!” Kona ran to his brother, fell to his knees at his Luka’s side, pulling on his coat to slide the large body in his lap. Blood rushed from the center of Luka’s stomach and his breath came out ragged, clotted behind the gurgle in his lungs. But Kona didn’t notice that; he didn’t seem to see anything but his brother’s hand reaching for him and those black eyes moving over Kona’s face. “Lu, come on man. We’ve got to go.”

“Kona?” Luka’s voice was weak and Keira heard the struggle behind his words, how his twin’s name came out with effort. “It burns, brah. It burns so bad.”

Keira scrambled to Luka’s other side as the sirens in the distance grew louder, sharper. When Kona kissed his brother’s forehead, when he held his limp hand, tears collected and fell down Keira’s face.

“We’ll get you help,
kaikua’ana.
I’ll get… help…” That gurgle in Luka’s throat went silent and Kona’s body stiffened as he lowered over his twin, sobbing. “No, Luka. We have to get our rings first.” He shook his twin, chin trembling as Kona pulled Luka closer to his chest. “Lu, come on. Lu?”

“Kona…” Keira tried, but Kona went on crying over his brother, pulling on his shoulder, trying to get him to sit up.

“Fuck this. No! We’ve got to get you to a doctor. Come on, brah.” Kona struggled with Luka’s weight as he staggered to his feet, grunting through his teeth before he caught Keira’s eyes. “Baby please help me! Help me get him to the hospital.”

But Keira knew. She knew, even as she pulled Luka’s heavy arm over her shoulder, even as she helped Kona frantically drag his brother’s body to her car, even as she flinched from the blood staining the cream leather of her backseat, that Luka was already gone.

Kona sped down the street, his sobs fractured between prayers he said aloud and profanities he shouted. Keira held Luka upright when Kona took a hard right. Her hands slipped in the blood as she tried to fasten Luka’s seatbelt. She stayed with him, hoping she could see his chest moving, hoping that the still, fixed stare would shift, move. She prayed for a blink, for a cough, anything that would have Luka waking up, but nothing came.

“It’s okay, man. We’re almost there. University’s down the way. We’re good, Lu. We’ll be good.” Kona kept looking behind him, eyes on his brother, glimpses at Keira as he thundered down the street. “Fuck! FUCK!” He slammed his fist into her console, shattering the radio until bits of silver plastic stuck into his knuckles.

“Kona, you have to slow down. Please, bebe.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you listen? Why didn’t you stay home? Why did you call him?” The fear and despair clotted Kona’s words, had her hands shaking, her legs twitching; the horror of guilt, of knowing she’d caused this, coiled deep, burned her stomach.

“I was scared. He was scared.” Dread, shame, mind-numbing fear all worked in Keira’s chest; there was too much sensation—the cold drip of Luka’s blood on her hand, the scream of sirens behind them as they flew faster and faster down the street, Kona’s curses, his angry words shouted at Keira and she couldn’t take it, couldn’t sort all that noise, all that fear in her mind. She couldn’t stop her eyes from burning or the hot track of her tears from coursing down her face.

Keira covered her ears, tried to blot out the sound of Ricky’s gunshot and Kona’s poorly suppressed crying. “We wanted to help you.” She heard Kona sob, heard the low prayers he made and the sirens behind them, the cruisers speeding past them wailing their horns. “Kona, you have to pull over. They’re chasing us. Please!”

But Kona wasn’t listening, didn’t hear her, didn’t noticed the beams of red and blue light streaming through the windows. “You should have stayed!” he screamed, taking a curve too quickly, the tires crying against the pavement. “You should have fucking stayed, Keira!”