Chapter One
Mackson King and Lana Scavello
A map of their beginning and disastrous end.
Year 2003
Mackson - Sixteen Years Old
Lana - Fifteen Years Old
Lana
Embarrassed. Mortified.
I race out of my house, my father’s yells echo through the back door, his words spear my back like sharp arrows. Racing through my side gate and out onto the road, I look left and right, desperate for a way out. I hate this place.
My dad isn’t what you’d ever describe as father of the year, he’s not even close. I’m pretty sure he hates me. He always says I look too much like my mother. I have her white blonde hair and dark brown eyes. My father stares into them sometimes, lost, more adrift than his usual absent glare.
My father has never looked upon me before and actually seen his daughter. My mother is all he sees and he doesn’t bother to think past her or the fact that she left him, us. I’m the one who’s paid the penance for her not sticking around.
I peer up the dead-end street and into a field, it’s filled with nothingness, just like this town. I imagine one day driving straight out of here and never turning back. Not having to live with a parent who doesn’t want me or regrets having to feed me. I wish I had the strength inside myself to keep walking. But what would I do for food and shelter, how would I survive?
You little bitch. Always thinking you’re the best, the prettiest, and the smartest. You’re none of those things.
I take a step onto the road and start walking to the field, my father’s cruel words driving me farther away.
And the funny thing is, I don’t believe I am pretty or smart, so I don’t flaunt myself the way my father says I do. I’m the exact opposite. I hate being looked at, and I don’t have any funny comebacks or cool remarks. I’m nothing special and even if I thought I could be, my father has made damn sure that spark would never light to a fierce fire. I’m pretty sure my spark is broken, just like me.
Rain begins to sprinkle down over me. I lift my hands. Story of my life, everything always gets worse.
The cold distracts my thoughts, but then I lick my lips and taste the salt from my tears, not even the rain can hide my pain.
Heavy, wet pounding footsteps come from behind me and I glance over my shoulder to find Mackson running toward me. I face forward again, lowering my chin and closing my eyes tight.
Mack has heard it all before, this isn’t the first time my father has put me in my place with other people around. Embarrassed me in front of the boy I secretly crush on. Sensing Mack stop at my back, I can hear his heavy breaths along with the pounding rain on the cement road.
If it weren’t for the strange crackling energy that’s always present when I’m near him, I wouldn’t think Mack was still standing behind me. However, I know he is and I’m afraid to turn around, to see the pity in his eyes. Does he believe my father’s words? Has he already seen how worthless I am?
Someone who runs away when things get hard, just like my mother.
“Lana.”
I clench my eyes closed when I hear the sympathy in his voice. I don’t want Mackson to feel sorry for me. I don’t need to see the pain in my heart written on someone else’s face.
Pressing my lips together firmly, I shake my head. Fisting my hands, I continue to walk straight ahead. I can’t bear to turn around and see Mackson—a boy who lives on the streets, who has to steal to eat, a boy who has nothing—look at me with pity. I don’t deserve it. I have everything; a home, a brother who somewhat takes care of me, and a father who may not like me, but does feed me. I go to school and I have good clothes. I’m being selfish and I don’t want Mack to see me this way. Self-centered and wishing away what I’m sure he would kill to have.
I sense footsteps behind me. My heart begins to thump wildly. He’s following me? All of a sudden a wet, cold hand grasps my arm and I’m spun around. My eyes find Mack’s and there it is, the pain he feels for me, the pain I don’t deserve.
God, my father is right. I only ever think about myself.
“I’m fine, Mack. What are you doing out here? Go inside, I’m just being stupid.”
“Stop that,” he admonishes. “You’re not stupid. Your father is an asshole and I came out here to tell you he’s wrong. You are pretty… the most beautiful girl inside and out.” My breath whooshes out of me from his words. “I see you Lana, who you really are. You take good care of your brother and father. You cook and clean and your smile, if only you could see the people around you when you smile. The guys, your brother’s friends, all of them stare at you especially when you smile. You laugh at lame jokes and you listen, you truly listen when people talk to you. Your father is wrong about you. You’re one of a kind, not just a pretty girl, but a good person too. You’re going to get out of here and fly away, just like a dove. Because you deserve better.”
Mack peers downward at his shoes and then back up to me. He pushes his wet hair out of his eyes and runs his hand through his hair. His eyes pierce mine, telling me something, but I’m unsure exactly what it is. “Don’t let him win, Lana. Take it from me. Other peoples’ sins don’t have to be your downfall.”
Breathing becomes impossible, each inhale a struggle as I try to hold back my emotions. If I exhale, I fear I’ll crumble and show how badly broken I am to the boy of my dreams.
I always fantasize that Mackson King will ask me out, to the park, a walk maybe. But this is something else entirely. He’s observing me, truly looking at me and seeing who I am. Who I always wanted to be, who I constantly felt I was but kept questioning, kept wondering if it was my vision which was distorted and not my father’s.
Before I can even fathom a reply Mack turns around and walks back toward my house, but he doesn’t turn into my yard, he keeps going and I stand here staring at his back until he disappears into the dark of the night.
With the rain easing, I look up into the night sky and search out into the vast universe feeling my lips tip up into a smile. My heart feels lighter and suddenly my future looks a little bit brighter.
2004
Playing basketball with the guys today, my hand touched Mackson’s, twice. The first time he was surprised and quickly moved it. The second time he held it still a moment longer than he needed to. My heart thumped wildly, and for the first time ever, I thought it would jump right out of my chest.
2005
I kneel beside my house, threading the chain through my bike, locking it up for the day. Hearing leaves crunching behind me, I glance over my shoulder to see Mack walking over to me, his head down, hands in his pockets.
I adore his presence. He’s not like the other guys who hang around my brother; they’re always loud and bossy. Mack is quiet, yet when he speaks everyone stops and listens to him. He’s the type of guy who doesn’t try too hard to get noticed because it’s natural for him.
I lock my chain and stand to turn toward Mack.
He stops close and looks up at me quickly before glancing away and inquiring, “I heard Corey asked you out?”
My heart stutters and I try hard to mask the evidence of my surprise and joy.
He’s interested about a boy who asked me out?
“Yes,” I cough after my one-word answer, trying to give myself time to come up with something better. “Yep, he sure did.”
Mack’s eyes meet mine, but this time they stay fixed on me. “What are you gonna say?”
He wants to know what I’m going to say?
I say nothing for a long moment thinking over the reasons why Mackson wants to know what my answer to Corey will be. Does he want me to say no, so he can ask me out? Is he only curious? When enough time passes, I know I need to say something so, I decide to just be honest.
“I’m going to say no. I don’t like Corey that way.”
Please ask me out, please.
Mack nods his head slowly, glances around the yard awkwardly and then says, “Well, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I release a heavy sigh and my shoulders slump in disappointment.
Mackson walks off quickly, out of my yard and onto the road toward Portland, toward one of his homes. I’m not sure which one they’re in at the moment. I’ve heard it’s either boxes in a park or abandoned houses and factories. Rex won’t let me go with him when he visits them; he says it’s dangerous, that there are too many other homeless people who are bad. So instead, I’m left at home with a father who berates me every chance he gets, but at least, he’s the kind of bad I know I can handle.
2008
I run into my house, tears cascading down my cheeks. I hiccup as I pass my father getting a drink from the fridge. Slamming my bedroom door closed, I throw my college bag down on the ground.
A burst of air hits the back of my neck as my bedroom door suddenly swings open. “Don’t you fucking dare slam the doors in my house! You got that, Lana?” my father grates out in an angry drunken slur.
I don’t answer him. I wait to see if his stare flickers over my red-rimmed eyes or the sadness still falling down his daughter’s face.
“Just because you’re a lazy bitch who thinks reading at college is better than actual real work. I had to fucking work hard for this house, so don’t think you can come in here and slam my goddamn fucking doors.”
I nod. Knowing any indication that I heard him will have him leaving my presence.
Growing up with my dad, I can understand why my mother left. What I can’t fathom is why she didn’t take her children with her. My dad shreds my confidence day in and day out, but I hate my mother more.
He turns his back on me, grumbles something and walks down the hall. The next sound I hear is the front door slamming closed and his Ford pickup start and screech down the road.
Please hit a tree. I wipe the thought from my mind, desperate to forget that I’ve wished for my father’s death.
I hear the familiar sound of the front door opening and know it’s the person I was just running from. I close my bedroom door quickly and lean on it with all my strength. He’ll come barreling through here at any moment. As I place my feet against the leg of my bed, my door handle rattles and the door opens slightly and then slams closed quickly with the weight of my body
“Lana, open the damn door,” my brother demands.
If my father were home now, he’d ignore all this. He knows exactly when to catch me on my own to throw his hateful words.
“Get lost, Rex,” I say through the door.
Suddenly the door opens again and slams closed. Repeatedly, my brother pushes while I desperately try to seal it shut. Nevertheless, I’m not strong enough when my bed begins to slide along the carpet. I growl in frustration and let the door go and Rex rushes in with another giant push.
I turn with my feet apart and hands clenched. “Why can’t you and everyone else just leave me alone and stay out of my personal life?” I ask in a frustrated tone.
“He deserved that beating, Lana. Mack saw him Saturday night at a party with another chick. He was making out with her in front of everyone, disrespecting you.”
I groan. “I know, Rex. Mack came and told me yesterday. I already talked to Brad. He said it was a mistake, he apologized and said it wouldn’t ever happen again.”
Rex steps back as if I hit him. I know why, respect. It’s everything to him, to all the guys. It’s like their bible, their code, it’s going to send them all to jail one day.
“You fucking believe the slimy cunt wouldn’t do that to you again? Lana, once a cheater always a cheater, fucking trust me. I know how guys’ minds work. I’m not asking, I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from him or he’s gonna get worse next time.”
And with that, Rex leaves the room, like the hand of God just laid down the rules. I’ve been given my orders and they aren’t to be taken lightly.
Rex, Corey, and Kodi are now the Parkland Poison Boys and they’re called that for a reason. They aren’t kids anymore. Currently, they’re Parkland’s most feared gang. I don’t know what they’re into, but I know it’s bad and I know they all take it very seriously. I hear about break-ins, fights, and my friends talk about seeing them run through their backyards right before the police come knocking, asking if they’ve seen any young men around the streets.
There’s a tap on my window and I jump from fright, too lost in my own thoughts. It’s Mackson. I want to open my window just to slam it back down in his face. He flicks his head to the left asking me to come outside. My legs move before I give them permission to. My heart overriding my mind, going to the one man who’s owned it all along.
I stop at the back screen door and wipe my face clean of tears, hoping no trace of my sadness is left behind. Stepping through the screen door, I walk down the cement path toward the fence where Mackson is leaning, waiting for me. The screen creaks shut behind me and the sun's summer heat warms my skin.
Mackson begins rubbing at the back of his neck apprehensively. I stop about a meter away from him, folding my arms over my chest, not wanting to get too close. I’m not sure if it’s because I might slap him or because I don’t like the way my body reacts when I’m near him. When I know he’ll never be mine because over the years he’s had hundreds of chances to make me his. But he’s never made a move, only continued to treat me as a friend.
“What do you want, Mackson? If you’re here to say you’re sorry for telling Rex exactly what I asked you not to, get it over and done with and then I don’t want to talk to you ever again.” My tone is accusing and cold.
“I knew you’d be angry and I’m good with that,” Mack replies in a calm, husky tone. I swear his voice gets deeper every year, a sound I grow more addicted to every time I hear it. Today will not be one of those days.
My eyes narrow and I straighten my arms out, clenching my fists in irritation, ready to give Mackson a serving, but before I can spit out my first word he beats me to it.
“You won’t stick up for yourself, Lana, then I’ll do it for you. And I’ll tell whoever the fuck I have to in order to make it happen.”
My mouth falls open, making me look like a fool, but I have no idea what to say at this point. My throat closes up as my frustration builds, but I push the emotion back because Mackson’s right.
I wanted to scream at Brad. I wanted to hit him and tell him we’re over. However, the pressure on my chest was too great, as I sensed myself building to fight, I held back and it makes me feel ill.
Years of lowering my eyes to the ground and listening to my father’s venomous words have really fucked me up. Now all the damn men in my life keep walking all over me. It makes me want to run, race as fast as I can in the other direction, because staying and fighting isn’t my style.
How does a woman who’s still very much a child at heart, find the courage to take a power that I never had to begin with?
My eyes lower automatically and I frown.
Warm fingers lift my chin and my glassy eyes meet Mackson’s sad ones. “I never thought I’d be someone who made you sad, Dove.” My heart stutters at the nickname Mack only uses when we’re alone. “Still, I’m not sorry it’s over between you and Brad, assholes aren’t your future, Lana.”
“My father would say otherwise,” I whisper bitterly and pull my face from Mackson’s grasp.
“Your father is a fool,” Mack growls angrily, his eyes piercing daggers toward my house.
“Mack,” I call his name and my voice cracks at the end. His furious gaze swings to me and the fire in his eyes melts away.
“How is it out of everyone in my life, you’re the only one who chooses to look beyond the surface? Who thinks I’m better than what I am?”
Mack steps forward with his eyes piercing mine. He places his soft, warm hands against my cheeks. “I don’t choose. I’ve only ever seen what’s true.”
We stand in silence for a moment before unexpectedly, Mack’s large, calloused hands moves from my face to the back of my neck. His body presses up against mine. My forehead furrows as my eyes search his.
And then suddenly, I feel his warm lips on mine. I inhale sharply, taken completely by surprise. Our breaths mingle and my heart flutters to new heights. Mackson’s kiss is gentle, opposite to what I expected from a man like him. His reputation tells a grisly tale that if you were to cross him or his family, you’d be lucky to come out alive. Even so, his hands and mouth hold me as if I’m significant, someone worth handling with care.
2010
Mackson
“Can I tell you something?” I say to Lana, staring up at the ceiling while lying on her bed, not sure how to look at her when I say this. Feelings, moments like this, I don’t handle them very well, not when I know they're coming anyway.
“Of course,” she answers in a lazy voice, her head resting on my shoulder. My arm is wrapped around her waist holding her tight while her arm stretches across my bare chest and her naked body is pressed up against mine. Heaven.
“I saw something when I was a kid, in a magazine that I found in a dumpster where we were looking for food. The cover and back were ripped off, so I’m not sure what magazine it was or what the story was about, I couldn’t read then, but the couple looked at each other as if they would die for the other. The man was in an Army uniform and the woman in a pretty dress. They both showed off their tattoos, the woman had a key on the back of her neck and the man a lock on the top of his arm.
“That sounds beautiful,” Lana murmurs.
“I want that one day,” I admit quietly.
Her head shifts on my shoulder to look up at me, “Well, since you and your brothers aren’t hurting for money and you’re twenty-one, Mack, there’s nothing stopping you from getting a tattoo.”
A short chuckle escapes my mouth quickly.
Lana raises her upper body until we’re looking into each other’s eyes. “What?”
“I’m getting tattoos, Dove. I got plans for a whole sleeve on my left arm, but what I meant was I want that kind of relationship with a woman, one where we make a life-long commitment to each other. And I’m not talking about a bullshit marriage with a piece of paper that can easily be torn up and deleted as if it never happened. I mean ink, something engraved in us forever, that we will be buried with.”
We stare at each other for a moment and I see a lot happening behind Lana’s beautiful eyes. My hope is that she’ll tell me to go to Hell for talking about a ‘supposed’ woman while I’m lying in her bed and she’s naked next to me. I want her to tell me that she’ll bitch-slap any other female who tries to take me from her.
But I’m probably not being fair to her. I know my Dove doesn’t compete, or fight for what she wants. Right now anyway, but I’ll change that.
Her father has messed her up too much. The asshole can’t distinguish between the wife who took off and his daughter who lost her mother when she was eleven. Ever since I’ve been around, Jae Scavello has told his daughter what a disappointment she is because she looks considerably like her mother. That she too will let down those who love her because of her selfishness. The man needs fucking glasses because Lana bends over backward for her father and brother—they snap their fingers and she’s there for them.
My brothers and I have watched this happen since we met the Scavellos. Not so much in the last few years, as Rex has gotten older and started pulling his father into line when he gets out of hand with Lana. Although the nasty words hang in the air and the backhanded remarks still happen daily.
I’m not sure what a father is supposed to be like, but seeing how Jae treats Lana, I don’t think I’m missing out on much.
Lana lies back down, placing her head back on my shoulder, her arm across my chest. “You will have that one day Mack, you’re a good man.” Her voice is distant, but I hear the sincerity in it, that finding a good woman and being happy is truly what Lana wants for me.
I rub at an ache in my chest. I’m partly to blame for her not realizing she’s the one I want in my future. We’ve kept our close relationship a secret for too long, years in fact. Initially, it started with flirting, secret hand holding and stolen kisses, and next sex, first fucking and then something deeper, something so natural that I didn’t even realize it was happening. It snuck up on me one day when instead of ripping Lana’s clothes off I wanted to go slow, I wanted to cherish every moment and inch of her body.
I’d fallen in love with my Dove and I’d been too much of a coward to ask her if she felt the same, until today.
I turn on my side, lower my eyes and lift Lana’s chin until her stare meets mine. I search her features for sadness or rebellion. I’d love her to fight for us, but my Dove has been beaten down too many times. And it’s my job to make her realize I’m not going anywhere, that who she is is exactly what I want. She’s enough.
“You’re that woman, Lana.”
Her eyes widen and her lips part.
I can’t even smile at her reaction because it shows how far we have to go until she learns how worthy she really is.
“I want that tattoo with you. I want everyone to know we’re together and have been for a while. I want to get you out of here and far away from your shitty father. Obviously, not straight away, we’ll plan it out, take it slow at first. I’ll need to talk to Rex and let him know my intentions are good. But soon, Dove, I want you living with me, somewhere with people who are going to treat you good and with respect.”
Lana’s shock is gone and is replaced with glassy eyes and a slight frown. “You want that tattoo with me?”
This time, I smile. “Yes, Lana. I want you to get the key to my lock. I want that and so much more with you.”
Lana stares off into the distance, biting her bottom lip. The doubts racing through her mind, they may only be in her head, but they’re as loud as screams to me.
Lana likes to think she shuts down, that she throws up a wall and no one can see past it, but really she’s the most innocent person I’ve ever met. Sadness, pain, rejection, I’ve seen each emotion on her beautiful brokenhearted face. She would call herself weak and it’s definitely how she acts, never talking back or voicing her pain, but to go through all of that silently. That’s real strength and I hope she realizes that one day.
“I’m not sure, Mack. Maybe we should keep it a secret a bit longer, make sure you really do want this with me. I don’t know if I’m even built for a relationship… for more.” Lana stares into my eyes and I see longing there. She wants this. However, she’s scared it may not go the way she wants it to. That she’ll get hurt.
I roll Lana to her back and pin her down with my heavy body. “I see you, Dove,” I say with a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I see the woman who would rather play a game of pool with the guys than watch girly singing television shows. The girl who cooks, cleans and would do anything for her family. I see the Lana, who laughs at her brother’s lame jokes because no one else does. I know you feed the stray cats even though your dad keeps telling you to stop. Lana, you care deeply about everyone, even those who don’t deserve it. That’s who you are, who I want in my life… forever. I don’t care what your father says or who your momma was because all I see is Lana.”
She relaxes underneath me and nods. Her frown lines twisting into a beautiful smile. “I want more too, Mack. I have for a long while now. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted me the same way.”
“No more doubts, Lana. This is happening.”
Lana gives me a genuine smile, one which finally reaches her eyes. I don’t smile because I can’t hold myself back any longer. I take her mouth and devour it. Tasting the same sweetness and feeling the identical warmth that spreads through my body every time I kiss her.
When we pull apart, breathless, Lana holds me tighter, with a strength I didn’t realize she possessed, then my girl whispers, “Thank you for seeing me.”
***
“Tomorrow,” Mack repeats gravelly as he strips off my clothes.
It’s been five weeks since Mack and I opened up to each other and decided to finally come out as a couple to my family and his. We decided tomorrow would be the day we both talk to Rex and then to my father.
Mack is going to tell his brothers tonight. He’s not worried about his brothers at all, but I’m worried about my family. Rex might lose it for a bit. Nevertheless, I know he’ll come around, eventually, he loves the Kings. They’re like brothers to him now.
My dad, on the other hand, I have no idea what his response will be. It could range from thanking Mack for taking me away or telling Mack what a big mistake he’s making.
“Lana…” my eyes swing to Mack at hearing his voice, “…it’s going to be okay.”
“I know,” I reply. I believe no matter what my father says, Mack won’t leave me. “I’m just nervous, but more excited. I can’t wait to finally be able to hold your hand in public, show all those skanks at T.K.’s that you’re taken.”
Mack grins, fists the back of his shirt and rips it off. “Hold my hand? I can think of better ways to show the dicks who stare at you for way too fucking long that you’re mine.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re crazy. Nobody stares at me, Mack.”
Mack shakes his head. “Another reason why I love you, Dove. You have no fucking idea how beautiful you are.”
I sense my face heating up, so I pull Mack downward before he can see me turn red. “Get down here before I turn into a puddle of goo.” I’m pretty sure I’m too late when he starts laughing and kisses both my cheeks.
His lips travel down my neck to my naked breasts. I grasp Mack’s hair with my right hand and the bed sheets with my other. I lift and bend my knees as electricity shoots all over my body, signaling what’s to come.
Abruptly Mackson’s cell phone begins to ring.
Mack tenses for a moment but doesn’t stop. While the phone continues to ring, Mack curls his tongue around my nipple and sucks gently. I whimper, loving the sensations he sends through my body.
The ringing stops and then starts again almost instantly. Mack and I sigh at the same time, knowing he has to answer it. Mack has a rule with his brothers, if they call back straight away then they have to pick up the call since it usually means it’s urgent.
“Christ.” Mack’s voice is thick and rough.
He lifts his body off mine and reaches to the dresser next to my bed, peers at the screen and then swipes quickly to answer. “Yeah.” Mack hops off the bed. “Whoa. Slow down, Kelso…” Mack pauses listens to his brother and then replies, “Okay, I’m on my way now. Be there in ten.” Mack hangs up and then grabs his shirt off the ground and shoves it over his head.
“Is everything okay?”
Mack looks around for his car keys and answers, “Something’s going on, he’s freaked. Slater wants us all home straight away.”
I jump off my bed and throw on some clean panties and a long T-shirt. “Okay then, so I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yep, tomorrow,” Mack says distractedly putting on one boot and looking around my room for the other one. Quickly I find his brown leather boot covered in grease stains peeking out from under my bed. I grab it and hand it to Mack. He sees it, looks to me, and when usually he’d give me a cheeky grin he smiles awkwardly.
My chest constricts slightly feeling as if something’s wrong between us, but I push those feelings aside knowing he’s just worried about his family. They aren’t your average brothers and sisters. Having grown up together in a place of nightmares, everything with them is just more; tougher bonds, stronger love, fiercer will to look after each other.
Mack stands, walks to me and kisses my forehead. Not my lips, like he usually would.
No, Lana stop it. He loves you. If there was a problem, he’d tell you.
My insecurities get the better of me and I quickly wrap my arms around his middle and squeeze tightly. Heaviness hits my chest, a weight that scares me because I know it’s love. It’s also trust, loyalty, and commitment, that’s what I offer this man and I’m terrified of how hard I’ve fallen.
I look up and catch Mack quickly glancing at the window with a furrowed brow.
“Go. Call me later.”
He gives me another strained smile, kisses my hair and then he’s off, climbing through my window, and running down the side of my house to his car which is hidden in an alley a few streets over.
I chuck on some jeans, head out to the kitchen and check the time, it’s three p.m., plenty of time for me to start dinner and get to my shift at the liquor store at five.
I decide on steak hamburgers for dinner. So I pull out the meat and set it on the bench to defrost. Then place the bread rolls on a plate to the side for now turning to begin slicing up the salad. An hour passes and I’m checking on the meat patties when I hear the front screen door squeak open.
I glance up and wait to see who it is; it could be Rex or Dad. They both finish at the garage around the same time. I pray silently to myself that it’s Rex. I could use a quiet afternoon before work, no snide comments from my father of how my cooking needs improving or how our house isn’t ever clean enough.
It’s Rex who turns the corner and into the kitchen. The moment I see his wisps of blond hair and tattooed arms my body relaxes, but only for a second. His dark blue shirt and arms are covered in blood.
He’s been shot.
Fear grips my heart.
I race to him and place my hands over his chest and stomach looking for the wound, but I find nothing. Looking at Rex, I see him staring down at me. His eyes are glassy and his skin is pale.
“What the hell is going on, Rex,” I demand in a shaky voice.
“He’s dead, Lana. Dad’s dead.”
I inhale, but my body refuses to exhale, refuses to release or allow any more air into my lungs. My head shakes back and forth. It’s all I can manage, any words or questions are stuck in my throat.
Abruptly, Rex grasps my forearms with his red-stained hands and I watch as my father’s blood is smeared onto my skin. “He’s dead, Lana,” Rex repeats. His fingers dig into my arms, so deep it begins to sting, but I say nothing. I don’t move. “He’s dead and it was the fucking Kings.” At his booming words, my head swings from my arms to Rex’s face, with a speed that should have hurt my neck. “It was the Kings that killed him. Slater fucking King.” Rex’s tone is so full of hate and rage that I barely recognize his voice.
My tears finally fall and suddenly my knees can’t hold me up a second longer. My brother and I sink to the floor together. Rex still holding onto me tightly, as if trying to fuse himself to my body as if I’m somehow giving him strength or he’s hoping I can.
Rex breaks down. His painful cries tear my heart apart. His howls aren’t silent or controlled, they’re pure agony to hear.
I try to say something, but instead of words, a sob escapes. Staring down at the blood on my arms. I cry because my brother is in so much pain. I have tears because people we trusted and brought into our home have betrayed us. I’m heartbroken because the man I love had a part in ripping my family apart, but mostly I’m shattered from guilt because I can’t find it within myself to truly care that my father is dead.