Murder Calls

Chapter 10

“I can never fight for myself, but for others...I can kill.”  
- Emilie Automn

Barton Hollow, Massachusetts
June 7, 1984
9:31 pm

“Pass me a straw?” Brandy asked, holding out her hand without so much as a glance in Heath's direction. He grinned, and snatched one up, passing it over to her pale fingers. Just as the paper touched her skin, Heath paused, waiting. It wasn't until she looked up with a fond huff that Heath swooped in and pressed a kiss against her chapped lips.

He didn't let up and Brandy gave just as much, completely forgetting about the straw as she confidently wound her arms around his shoulders. Together, they leaned backwards, Brandy spread across Heath's chest and his back pressed tightly against the blanket he'd stolen from Neil's car. The only light source came from the camaro’s lights,, casting them- especially Brandy- in a yellow haze that only seemed to enhance her square face and sharpen the angles of her jaw.

She took his breath away. And not just because she was kissing him as if a demogorgon was looking over them. As if it was their last kiss. And maybe it was. They were graduating tomorrow and yet Heath didn't care- could care less that tomorrow was marking a new milestone. That, in Neil's eyes, he was now an adult and would have to pitch in. Like he didn't do that already.

“Come with me,” Heath whispered against Brandy's panting mouth. “Please. Come with me.”

Brandy paused, leaning backwards and away from Heath. Now that he could see her face, Heath wished he didn't. Brandy looked confused and concerned, something he never wished to see on her. He thought they were past it after Heath admitted to Brandy about Neil. About the abuse. Back then, with blood dripping from his collarbone and a bruising stomach, Brandy had given him the same look. He never thought he'd see it again.

“What do you mean? Are- are you leaving?” Brandy pushed even further away, so that she sat back on Heath's thighs. Her hands were placed firmly in her own lap and her eyes were glowing in the dying sun. She was so beautiful and Heath ached with the need to hold her.

With that thought in mind, Heath did just that. Sitting up, he quickly wrapped an arm around her waist, trapping Brandy. She just looked mildly amused, though the confusion won out and she placed a small hand on his jaw. Holding his gaze, Brandy asked, “what are you talking about baby?”

He closed his eyes as she rubbed the pads of her fingers against the bottom of his lip. “I'm going to California. Right after we graduate,” he sighed, loosening his grip on her hips. “Come with me sweetheart. You're dying here. I'm dying here. Come with me.”

“Heath-”

His grip tightened again. “Please princess. You're always talking about moving outa here. I'm giving you that chance.”

“I can't Heath,” Brandy pushed away until she sat across the blanket. A sudden space between them that not even Heath was willing to cross. “You know I can't.”

His fists tightened at the words, but just as suddenly as the anger rose, it quickly dissipated. He knew it was a foolish hope, Brandy would never leave Hawkins. She'd never leave the party she called her kids and it was wrong of him to think she'd put herself first for once. Brandy just wasn't that kind of gal. Heath knew that and quiet suddenly realized he couldn't leave. Not yet and probably not ever. Not without his sweetheart.

~•●•~

May 6, 1988
5:21 pm

“Why'd you do it Tommy?” Heath watched with barely contained fury. He couldn't believe his best friend. He couldn't believe it. And yet- yet he could. He could see it in the way he'd always been quick to violence. Like a rabid dog just waiting for his chain to snap. How every fight Heath had ever gotten into had been cheered on by Tommy. Hell, Tommy had instigated ninety percent of the fights. Though he never fought himself.