“Stop it!” I suddenly yelled, and my cracked voice shot out over the creek bed. “I’m calling the police right now!”
“Go fuckin’ shut her up, will ya?” one said.
“Get out of here, Harper!” Kane growled and surged to his feet then, threw his bare arms around the one closest to him, the one headed toward me, and dragged him down to the ground. In seconds, Kane had straddled him, and his fist was pounding into the stranger. Another guy headed straight for me; older, not a student. None of them looked like students. I turned and ran into the store.
“Hurry, lock the door!” I yelled, and the kid surprisingly jumped up and did just that. “Do you have a cell phone?” I’d left mine at Brax’s.
As he locked the door, he handed me his phone. I paused. If I called the cops, Kane might get arrested. Quickly, I dialed my own number. It rang. Rang. I prayed someone would pick it up and answer it.
“Hello?” It was Olivia.
“Olivia! It’s Harper! I’m just outside of Covington at a gas station. Some guys—they’re beating Kane bad.” I looked at the store’s door, and the guy had gone. “I didn’t call the cops. Please tell Brax to hurry!”
“Okay, stay away from them, Harper! Brax will be there as soon as he can.” She hung up, and I handed the phone back.
When I went to the door, the truck was speeding out of the store’s lot. I watched it crest the hill and disappear. Brax’s bike was just where I’d left it. They hadn’t stolen it after all.
Then I twisted the lock and took off outside.
“Should I call the cops?” the guy asked behind me.
“No! No, don’t! Please,” I begged. I ran. Skidded down the embankment in my heeled boots. Kane was lying in the creek bed; motionless, half on his side. I stumbled until I was next to him. The shadows had grown long, so long I could barely see. But I could, though. I could see enough. And what I saw made me cringe. Made my heart beat faster.
My hand went to his arm. It was cold, and I gave it a shake. “Kane?”
A low groan escaped his throat. I sighed with relief.
And then my eyes inspected him for injuries. His ribs were red where he’d been kicked. His face was already turning purple, his lip was cut, and his knuckles were raw and bleeding.
Then, I saw his back. And I couldn’t help the sharp intake of air as I gasped in shock. Disbelief.
I nearly fell backwards. It felt as though I’d been punched in the stomach.
Just as I reached for him, for the puckered skin across his shoulder blades, his eyes fluttered open.
“Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “Please, Harper, don’t.” He pushed up on his elbows, fell back down.
It was done, though. I’d already seen what he didn’t want me to. Another of Kane’s secrets.
I reached for his face instead, and those profound coffee eyes regarded me. Filled with pain. With shame. With Fear.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, then coughed. “They came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry,” he grunted. “No cops, Harper. Please.” He pushed up again, fell.
“Shh, no cops,” I crooned. “I only called Brax. He’s on his way.” I smoothed his hair from his eyes. He was shivering now, his bare skin lying in the two inches of cold creek water. I took my black wool coat off, draped it across him, but he pushed up. This time, he made it out of the creek. I helped him up, and he leaned on me, but I could feel his sagging weight. “I think you need medical attention, Kane—”
“No,” he said. “I’m okay.” He wheezed that last part, and I didn’t think he was okay at all. My coat barely draped across his broad shoulders, but I held it there, covering his back best I could. When he looked at me, he looked with his entire soul. He said nothing. His eyes screamed. I just laid my head against his shoulder, holding him as steady as I could.
The sound of a rumbling motor roared close by, and at first, I thought the men who’d attacked Kane had returned. Fear froze my insides, and my gaze shot around the creek bed. Then doors slammed, and Brax’s distinct voice called out.
“Harper! Kane!” he yelled.
“We’re down here!” I yelled back, and in moments, Brax appeared. Another big guy was with him. Cory Maxwell, his friend and another Silverbacks baseball player. They both skidded down the bluff. Brax’s face was drawn in worry, in anger; frightening, terrifying.
“I got this, Harper,” Brax said, and he and Cory grabbed Kane by the arms and helped him back up the embankment.
My coat slipped off. My eyes darted to Kane’s back, and my stomach nose-dived again as though I’d been punched. Seeing it once had been enough. Seeing it again was even worse than the first time.
Cut into Kane’s skin, in what couldn’t have been done without incredible pain involved, was the word Stupid.
It was at that moment when I felt like my life hadn’t been quite as bad as I’d once thought.
Olivia sat beside me on Brax’s sofa, waiting. Brax was in the bedroom, out of sight, wrapping Kane’s ribs with tape; something Kane had apparently taught Brax growing up in foster care. Every so often I’d hear the hiss of pain pushing past Kane’s lips. Olivia grasped my hands, already clenched together in my lap.
“Brax will take good care of him,” she said. “He won’t let anything happen to him.”
I nodded, and couldn’t help but wonder if Olivia knew what I knew. What was inscribed by either a knife blade or some other sharp object, into Kane’s back. Purplish-pink and puckered, it glared from his otherwise pale, flawless skin.
“Go fuckin’ shut her up, will ya?” one said.
“Get out of here, Harper!” Kane growled and surged to his feet then, threw his bare arms around the one closest to him, the one headed toward me, and dragged him down to the ground. In seconds, Kane had straddled him, and his fist was pounding into the stranger. Another guy headed straight for me; older, not a student. None of them looked like students. I turned and ran into the store.
“Hurry, lock the door!” I yelled, and the kid surprisingly jumped up and did just that. “Do you have a cell phone?” I’d left mine at Brax’s.
As he locked the door, he handed me his phone. I paused. If I called the cops, Kane might get arrested. Quickly, I dialed my own number. It rang. Rang. I prayed someone would pick it up and answer it.
“Hello?” It was Olivia.
“Olivia! It’s Harper! I’m just outside of Covington at a gas station. Some guys—they’re beating Kane bad.” I looked at the store’s door, and the guy had gone. “I didn’t call the cops. Please tell Brax to hurry!”
“Okay, stay away from them, Harper! Brax will be there as soon as he can.” She hung up, and I handed the phone back.
When I went to the door, the truck was speeding out of the store’s lot. I watched it crest the hill and disappear. Brax’s bike was just where I’d left it. They hadn’t stolen it after all.
Then I twisted the lock and took off outside.
“Should I call the cops?” the guy asked behind me.
“No! No, don’t! Please,” I begged. I ran. Skidded down the embankment in my heeled boots. Kane was lying in the creek bed; motionless, half on his side. I stumbled until I was next to him. The shadows had grown long, so long I could barely see. But I could, though. I could see enough. And what I saw made me cringe. Made my heart beat faster.
My hand went to his arm. It was cold, and I gave it a shake. “Kane?”
A low groan escaped his throat. I sighed with relief.
And then my eyes inspected him for injuries. His ribs were red where he’d been kicked. His face was already turning purple, his lip was cut, and his knuckles were raw and bleeding.
Then, I saw his back. And I couldn’t help the sharp intake of air as I gasped in shock. Disbelief.
I nearly fell backwards. It felt as though I’d been punched in the stomach.
Just as I reached for him, for the puckered skin across his shoulder blades, his eyes fluttered open.
“Don’t,” he said hoarsely. “Please, Harper, don’t.” He pushed up on his elbows, fell back down.
It was done, though. I’d already seen what he didn’t want me to. Another of Kane’s secrets.
I reached for his face instead, and those profound coffee eyes regarded me. Filled with pain. With shame. With Fear.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, then coughed. “They came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry,” he grunted. “No cops, Harper. Please.” He pushed up again, fell.
“Shh, no cops,” I crooned. “I only called Brax. He’s on his way.” I smoothed his hair from his eyes. He was shivering now, his bare skin lying in the two inches of cold creek water. I took my black wool coat off, draped it across him, but he pushed up. This time, he made it out of the creek. I helped him up, and he leaned on me, but I could feel his sagging weight. “I think you need medical attention, Kane—”
“No,” he said. “I’m okay.” He wheezed that last part, and I didn’t think he was okay at all. My coat barely draped across his broad shoulders, but I held it there, covering his back best I could. When he looked at me, he looked with his entire soul. He said nothing. His eyes screamed. I just laid my head against his shoulder, holding him as steady as I could.
The sound of a rumbling motor roared close by, and at first, I thought the men who’d attacked Kane had returned. Fear froze my insides, and my gaze shot around the creek bed. Then doors slammed, and Brax’s distinct voice called out.
“Harper! Kane!” he yelled.
“We’re down here!” I yelled back, and in moments, Brax appeared. Another big guy was with him. Cory Maxwell, his friend and another Silverbacks baseball player. They both skidded down the bluff. Brax’s face was drawn in worry, in anger; frightening, terrifying.
“I got this, Harper,” Brax said, and he and Cory grabbed Kane by the arms and helped him back up the embankment.
My coat slipped off. My eyes darted to Kane’s back, and my stomach nose-dived again as though I’d been punched. Seeing it once had been enough. Seeing it again was even worse than the first time.
Cut into Kane’s skin, in what couldn’t have been done without incredible pain involved, was the word Stupid.
It was at that moment when I felt like my life hadn’t been quite as bad as I’d once thought.
Olivia sat beside me on Brax’s sofa, waiting. Brax was in the bedroom, out of sight, wrapping Kane’s ribs with tape; something Kane had apparently taught Brax growing up in foster care. Every so often I’d hear the hiss of pain pushing past Kane’s lips. Olivia grasped my hands, already clenched together in my lap.
“Brax will take good care of him,” she said. “He won’t let anything happen to him.”
I nodded, and couldn’t help but wonder if Olivia knew what I knew. What was inscribed by either a knife blade or some other sharp object, into Kane’s back. Purplish-pink and puckered, it glared from his otherwise pale, flawless skin.
