The moment I'm out of the hospital, I make deals. Since I can't drive now, with my fucked up hand, K.C. harvests our "crop" for me. Once a week, eight grand's worth of pot is brought to me by my bestie, and the following day I start selling. I always sell my store in one day, just so it's not with me if the house gets raided, which happens more often than not. But I always get tips and messages from clients, letting me know of raid rumors, which gives me time to sell or store my shit and cash, which K.C. calls my 'get away cash". I decide to use the old park, Libby's Spirit Park, since it's abandoned. I intend to meet K.C. there.
When I get to Libby's Spirit, K.C. is setting up by the dilapidated pagoda next to the infested pond. All my customers were notified about the location, and K.C. hands me the duffel bag we use. As the sun sets, customers come. Once the sun is finally down, and it's dark, and I think the last of my customers are gone, someone with a familiar swagger strolls up the overgrown path towards us. "What the fuck is HE doing here?!" I ask K.C. and she pales, clearly embarrassed and guilty. "I-I thought he might wanna buy... he was asking... I'm sorry.." K.C. says, look ashamed. "Well, since you invited him, you can deal with him." I say, shoving the bag into K.C.'s arms, and stomp off to the other side of the pond. The boy reaches K.C. and they exchange words. Then he makes to side-step past her, and she bars his path. The argument escalates, and suddenly he seems enraged. I see what he has in his hoodie pocket, and I start forward. K.C. doesn't seem to notice, but I have, and I'm halfway there when I hear what he says. "GET THE FUCK BACK! I HAVE THE RIGHT TO SEE HER IF I FUCKING WANT!" he screams, and then he's pointing the gun at her, the barrel in her face, and she stutters, and backs away. Her heel hits a rock, and she goes down, backing away as best she can without standing. I'm almost there, but I don't make it. He pulls the trigger, and I stop dead. K.C. slumps, and for good measure, he pops off another six rounds. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG, in quick succession. He turns and sees me, sees my own gun in my hands, and loads another round. I get my gun up, but not quick enough. Nothing is quick enough. An ear-splitting sound, and then I'm on the ground, and my gun's across the grass, and my previously unhurt arm is oozing blood as I crawl towards K.C. and her barely-moving chest. Blood seeps from her chest, her stomach, her leg. Her eyes are glazed, either from pain, or blood loss, or both, and I start crying, burying my face into her hair. I curl up next to her on the grass, until her chest stills, until her body cools, until sirens sound in the distance and the grass frosts. They find me there, like that, K.C. curled against my body, our blood mixing, and i'm suddenly struck by the irony of the situation, of how K.C. had been with me when I almost died, twice, but now i'm with her as she dies, and it's the only time i'll ever be able to stay with her again, and just before the sirens reach us I kiss her lips, and murmur my last confession to her, three simple words I never said to her before; I love you.
They try to pull me away, and I fight back. When someone finally manages to pull me away, they lead me to the ambulance waiting for me, and soon a cup of green tea is pressed into my hands, a trauma blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I realize soon I gave an officer a black eye, but he does't say anything, just comes to comfort me. I watch even as they place K.C. in a body bag, being gentle with her while in my presence. I cry again, knowing I'll never be able to kiss those soft lips again, never be able to feel her warm body next to me again.
At the station, the same officer who took me away from K.C. leads me to a room, and then the officer with the black eye - Officer Morgan, I learn) - starts asking questions, which I refuse to answer. He sighs. "Can you at least tell me who the victim was to you?" he asks, and I look down at my bloody hands. "My best friend, my sister.... my lover." I say, and he nods, as if he suspected as much. "And did you recognize the killer?" he says, leaning forward. I take a steadying breath, because yes, I know exactly who killed her. I look him right in the eyes and say, "Damian Montgomery, my ex and K.C.'s least favorite person."
YOU ARE READING
Solislunar
Roman pour AdolescentsSeven-teen-year-old Solis Harper has...issues. She never knew anything about her childhood. She has no memories whatsoever of her life before she was a teenager. But her life hasn't exactly been easy, even with her memories gone. Her parents are nig...
