Chapter 9 - The Kissing Rock

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" I thought you were dead," is all I can manage to say.


"The world thought you were dead too, didn't they? It's so easy to find corrupt cops and doctors these days, unfortunate that Wilden's dead, though, he was a nice ally." Ian chirps, since he finds this whole thing amusing.


"Ally? The last time I checked, you're not supposed to kill your ally the minute they don't give into your blackmail." I regret those words the minute they come out of my mouth.


"Is that so? Because if I recall correctly-which I do, because I didn't actually die, you were the one who tried to kill me. In fact-"


I tune out. I know what he's about to say, and I don't want to hear it. He'll talk about how I made him leave, and how it was all my fault; that's one of the many reasons I'm leaving and I don't need to revisit it.


"Look Ian, I don't have time for your shit, I have a bus to catch." He opens his mouth to respond but I'm already picking up what few belongings I have.


I plump down on an empty seat only to find Ian sit down beside me. For a while, we sit in silence only to have memories flood back.

+++

It was the day I pushed Ian down the church. I was waiting for Ian in the secret floor below church basement. It had been our emergency meeting place. The purpose was to talking about the kissing rock.

- -

Just a few days before that day, that's where we were: sitting on the mossy rock and casally chatting. To be honest, casual isn't really the word to describe it, but it was pretty ordinary compared to our lives at that point.

When he first contacted me, I was reluctant to meet up with him. He knew I would be able to hear him when he told Melissa I meant nothing to him; he might as well have just said it to my face. When I heard those words, I just bolted.

He was being a decent guy, he even gave me pointers about where to stay and how to stay hidden, no questions asked. He seemed trustworthy enough for me to tell him the reason why I needed to disappear. After I told him, he leaned in and kissed me.


"I could come with you, if you want," he told me, "just for a little while."


"We could escape the world together." I said back, caught up in the mood.


We didn't talk after that.

- -

Ironically enough, knowing why I had to disappear was how A made Ian disappear.


The next morning, Ian stopped by in our neighborhood to drop off the pill. This had been a ritual of his when we were dating. I reached out and grabbed the bag, only to have a hand grab me. Ian pulled me aside and told me to meet him in the secret church room later that day.


It was there where he got his first A message, "Get lost or else - A," was scrolled across the dusty church floor. He insisted he wasn't scared. That was until we found pictures underneath the bell. The photos were grainy, like they were taken on a flip phone camera, but no one could deny that shot was of us. His only reaction to that was taking the photo and ripping it apart.


"I'm not afraid of you," he said, "and I'm sure as hell not going anywhere."


He was always one to face a problem head on. The quality I admired most about him was what got him killed.

- -

It wasn't until days later when, I heard about Ian's death. Guilt overwhelmed me. If I hadn't told him about everything, then A wouldn't have killed him. It didn't matter that he ignored the messages, A still would've killed him. I got Ian killed.


I could have run away with him. I could have protected him. I shouldn't have done nothing.


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