Sparks Reignited

42 | How It Ends

Kyle shoves me out of the way as Gavin rams into him. I stumble to the side of the road, trying to regain my balance. When I glance over my shoulder, I see a mess of limbs and arms engaged in a brusque fight. I see Gavin punch Kyle in the right side of the face, trying to knock him out, and he staggers back with a grunt.

Gavin flips Kyle off him, and swings around, his murderous eyes set on me. He gets up to his feet and advances towards me, but his fingers barely graze my sleeve as Kyle tackles him from behind again. Hooking an arm around his neck to hold him back.

Noticing how I'm rooted to the ground in fear, Kyle yells at me.

"Riley, run!"

For an older man, Gavin is stronger. He bends over, tossing Kyle over his back and onto the gravel. His reflexes make it seem like Kyle weighs no heavier than a rice sack. Pulling out a knife hidden in his boot, he half-straddles my boyfriend and tries to stab, but Kyle's quick reflexes save him. He grabs a hold of Gavin's wrists and holds him there. Neither of them back down, waiting to see who would lose strength in their arms first.

Something in me snaps when I see Kyle attacked. I'm afraid of losing somebody close to me again.

I'm done running away and hiding. Done living in constant fear. No one else should suffer because of me. I want to take charge of my life.

I wish to be freed.

And so, I do what I have to do.

Adrenaline fills me up. I grab a huge rock from the roadside and run up towards them. Using all my strength, I hit the back of Gavin's head with a blunt force, forcing him to be distracted. Before he refocuses, I drop the rock and my right fist flies out, hitting Gavin hard right across his right cheek. My satisfaction of hitting him intensifies when he hits the ground, unconscious.

Pain lances through my hands. Not going to lie—I'm pretty certain that I just broke something. Punching someone isn't as easy as what we see on the TV. But the pain is gone in a second when I recall what he did to Mom. To us.

My knuckles are slowly turning red and bruised, but it doesn't stop me from hitting Gavin again. This guy deserves more than a punch. Hell, he needs to be punished with a whole life of reflection on his selfish and ludicrous actions.

Someone grabs my wrist. "Stop, Riley. Stop," Kyle says quietly. "He's knocked out."

Chest heaving, I glare at the unconscious man. The trickle of blood running across his forehead has me frozen.

Crap. "Is he dead—?"

Did I just kill a man?

I imagine how horrified Kyle must be, but he simply stares at me in disbelief. Giving one last glance to Gavin's unmoving form, he grabs my hand and pulls me to his car hastily. "I don't think he's dead and we should go before he wakes up. I called the cops earlier and they should be on the way now. We'll bump into them along the way and explain the situation."

We get into his Ford and slam the doors. As we hightail out of the place, I turn towards Kyle. Now that we're out of the darkness and safe in the car, I finally inspect Kyle. His bottom lip is split and there's a purple bruise growing on his right cheek.

"Kyle, you're bleeding!" I rifle through his glove compartment and find some tissues, pressing them to his wound. "Here."

"It's fine, really." His concerned eyes travel to my face for a brief second before looking back at the dark road. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

I glance down and wince at my bruised fist. "I might have hurt my right hand when I hit Gavin," I reveal. "And there's a throbbing bruise at the back of my head where Gavin had knocked me unconscious earlier."