The North Star | COMPLETED ✔️

Chapter 24 ~ Explosions

Chapter 24

I left.

I walked away, and Bard didn't follow. I supposed even that was too much for him. I wasn't just involved. I was the leader's girl. Anyone who was anyone knew you didn't get involved with Drake's old lady. It was suicide.

The first shirt out of my pack was inside out, but I threw it on anyway. Outside, the weather had warmed. The sun shone down on the world as if mine wasn't falling apart, and I couldn't help but feel bitter.

There I was, with the opportunity of a lifetime, and I'd thrown it all away. Once again, for a man. For a set of intense eyes and a stream of sweet words. Maybe, it wasn't Karma to blame. Maybe, I only had myself to account for the shithole that was my life.

With no real destination in mind, I walked aimlessly. For miles. If any of Mr. Frankfire's ramblings were true, I hoped he'd been right about the earth being flat. Maybe, if I walked far enough, I'd reach the end and fall off. I wanted to fall off. I wanted to put a stop to this cycle.

But I didn't reach the end. Instead, when I finally took stock of my surroundings, I found a playground.

It stood like a miniature kingdom against the backdrop of the dimming light. A fortress of tiny wooden crannies and perfectly placed hiding spots.

I walked through the entrance and dipped into one of the structures, then weaved through the beams until I found a little alcove. It was barely big enough for me to sit with my legs scrunched up, but I squeezed myself inside and propped my back against the corner.

Finally. Alone. I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh. No intense men too sexy for their own good. No old men to piss me off. No risk of a probation violation or a new charge. No club. No Drake. Just me. Jessie. It felt safe. For the first time in a long time, I felt hidden. My mind ran through the odds of Drake or any of the club finding me in that tiny spot, and I knew it was unlikely. So unlikely, I relaxed. Muscles I hadn't even realized were tensed, loosened. Each breath came easier. A small satisfied smile lifted the corners of my mouth. This was nice. If it wasn't for food, water, and the inevitable playing child, I could have just stayed there. Built a life around swing sets and graffitied boards and died in peace.

An orange glow flowed through the cracks of wood as the sun set, and the world fell perfectly still. Dust motes danced to a slow, calm rhythm within each stream of light. It was nostalgic in a sense. For a rare moment, I could vaguely remember my own innocence. It felt like another life.

My thoughts drifted back to my situation. As much as I'd wanted this chance for myself, it hadn't just been about me. I could see that even more in the light of my failure. The old man needed help. He looked frail, and the way he'd eaten the candy was a testament to his hunger. He was always small. His wrinkled skin had always appeared too loose on his bones, but today he'd looked even more haggard than usual. I'd planned to help. I hadn't paid too much mind on it with the intention that I would, but I'd fucked it up.

I always did.

Because of Bard.

They say admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. Well, I had a problem. I wanted him. My body wanted him. I responded to him in a way that made it impossible to have ever thought I would have kept a distance. My mind had been set against it, but my stupid, stupid, body wasn't on the same page.

I should have remembered. Drake had started out like that. He'd bought me things. Clothes, beer, drugs. He'd kept the fridge in his house, our home, stocked. Drake had said he loved me. I was beautiful, he'd said. I was perfect, he'd said. There was nobody but me.

I scoffed.

He built a home for me, then turned it into a prison. The room we used to make love in, the bed where he'd whispered all his sweet words, was now the scene for every horrifying memory I had. It was there, in that same bed, that the sounds of sweet words turned into cracked whips and burning skin. The press of a cherry against flesh. The pungent aroma. Each time I thought I might start to forget, my brain took me back to freshen the memory.

How could I have forgotten when I'd needed to remember the most?

Bard was no different. So what, he'd bought me candy. So what, if his kiss caused a sensation that Drake could never compare to. He was wrong. He was a man. He was dangerous.

I wasn't that fourteen year old girl anymore. I was a woman, grown, and strong. Stronger than Drake. Stronger than Bard. I just needed to remember that.

The orange faded to black as I sat for what felt like hours. I needed to move. I needed to find the old man and figure out what to do next. He would be furious with me for fucking it up, but I could only hope that his talk about being done with me was for show. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed him. I needed someone. The thought of being alone terrified me like no memory ever could.

I crawled out of my cramped position and gave my legs a minute to wake up. Moonlight shone through the many trees, casting shadows against the ground, and a chill ran down my back. I had a bad feeling. Something was wrong. It hit my chest and twisted it up with nerves.

I walked briskly towards the street and headed in the direction of the bridge. I had no idea how far I'd ventured. It took me over an hour to even catch a glimpse of the lights down Main, and when I did, my heart jerked.

Three men stood in a circle, all crowded around a hunched form I'd know anywhere. Mr. Frankfire stood a little more crooked than usual, a little more slumped. His hand was out, a sign of surrender, and the laughter echoing around him made my hands twitch at my sides.

One of the men shoved his chest, and the one behind caught him before he could fall. Raucous laughter filled the empty night air as the one in front took a swing that doubled the old man almost in two. He coughed and spluttered, and dark speckled the ground beside his feet.

I didn't think. "Hey!" I ran forward, uncaring if I was outnumbered. Not giving two shits what they would do to me. Every pent up emotion I had rushed to my chest. My teeth clenched so hard my jaw popped, and a scream that had nothing to do with fear clogged my throat and begged to escape.

Mr. Frankfire looked over at my fast approaching form and yelled out, "No! Girl! Go away!"

The hell I would.

The closer I got, the more I could see it was just boys. Youths of no more than their late teens. It was all for sport. For fun. For some reason, the fact pissed me off even more. How must that old man be feeling? How degrading. How fucking ashamed and helpless and powerless. It was an echo of my own shame. I knew that feeling. I knew what it was like to be overpowered and turned into nothing. Made into less than nothing. Garbage. Ash.

It happened without warning. My body wasn't my own. All the bullshit of my life came spewing from me like a broken pipe, and I barreled forward.

My fist connected. Bone crunched. Then all hell broke loose.