KIERA
"You should marry her. Seriously," I deadpanned, facing Dylan fair and square, "Fuck off me," I ticked the points using my fingers, "Admit your mistakes, make your mom happy." I gripped the antique bronze railings of the stairwell, my back to him.
"Sometimes you have to choose someone over family. I want that someone to be you."
"And what if the someone doesn't want to be chosen?"
All was still as i felt him drop his stare, considerably defeated.
"What if the someone thinks you're a fucking asshole that'll still let her down anyways, no matter your promises? What if the someone is running away from demons in her past but you're only bringing her closer to them?"
"I'll tell you what. I'm sick of playing hide and seek with your fucked up mom and girlfriend, Dylan. I'm leaving."
"What? Are you crazy?"
"Yes. Don't look for me... Or your black card." Sniffling, I turned and fled through the garden, patting my bosom. The letter from Thad was there, safe. Good. Not long before our little rendezvous, he'd messaged me through one of the maids. She was a pink, eager-to-please thing, curtseying as she delivered, unwittingly, her message of doom. As usual, Thad went straight to the point. Nick's dad was dead. The bastard's coronation as Duke of Reggio was scheduled for next week. No harm there. My sister, Savannah, was carrying his baby. And she was wont to be his bride.
Pulling off my slippers, I ran barefooted, as I had many times before, over the freshly mowed grass tickling my soles, unlatched the wooden gate and stepped into my freedom. Over my shoulder, I heard "Kiera!" But I didn't turn back.
***
My ears caught the whistling of the logs by the fireplace coinciding with the crackling of hard leather boots on the wooden floor. The intruder unwrapped my shawl that I hitherto held so tightly about my shoulders that my knuckles hurt and I cursed like Maleficent.
"It's summer. I suppose you're baking in that thick robe. Beside a fire." He went about his business of making himself at home. I sat still as I heard the clanking of pots and pans in the kitchen and thirty minutes later, the lightly caramelized and almost nutty smell of decaf coffee wafted around the cabin.
"Here."
I accepted the steaming jug with a grateful nod. " It's almost winter and I'd rather not get raped by any motherfucker tonight. One bastard in my belly is enough."
"Kiera... Kiera," Thad said thoughtfully, squatty beside me and squeezing my palm.
"Oh Thad," I quit my drink, wrapping my arms around his sturdy chest instead.
He held me for a short while, neither of us saying anything, him stroking my hair. "I got you, baby. I just want to see you stand on your feet... Again. Fuck Dylan and Nick, baby."
"I can't do that, Thad."
"Baby... "
"I can't just... " I sniffed, eased a bit back and wiped my nose on the collar of my shirt, "Fuck them and move on. I can't do that. They have to pay. Nick's gotta pay."
"And how're you gonna make that happen? He'll be Duke soon while you remain a powerless nothing. Sav is gonna be a duchess. I bet she be screwing him in the courtyard with their lil girl watching." The last bit carried veiled animosity. I would have laughed in any other circumstance, not stuck in a cabin out in the ghetto of Puerto, no money or job of my own. I pictured my life in the hear of the big revenge plan: living alone and banging random dudes every other night? Speaking of which, I couldn't remember the last time I enjoyed sex. The first guy that got me to finish was the last one that robbed me clean afterwards. Enough of bad memories, I want to believe. But what the hell do we do when all the memories we have are bad?
"So what's the plan, huh?"
I pushed aside my coffee. "Good. I was thinking..."
DYLAN.
Now I was veritably nonplussed. Ra refilled my glass with cane rum.
"What am I gonna do?" I moaned, running my hands through my already messed up hair.
"Drink." He shrugged. "Yo, I know this gal in this club down my street."
"God, no. Not now, Ramses Keith."
"Look at you. What's wrong with you? You got the looks, you got the money. And Joanne and Kiera are outta the way. Go on, chill out. Let off some steam. We'll talk about the publishing deal after some sense has been fucked into you."
"That's the point, man. I can't forget Kiera."
"Hold on, you're shitting me. Right." He grinned. "Right?" Starting up, he grabbed the glass. "Tell me you're not... Holy shit! Iris has to hear this."
"She'll fry me alive."
"If I don't do it first. Nah, I'm not having this sappy bullshit from you, man. Get up."
"Aww bro." My legs outstretched, I snatched a pillow and covered my face with it. "Go away. You're no good."
"I'm better than you, asshole. Get up."
Pulling me by the arm, he saw my exit to his Cadillac. Ra deserved to be sued for his taste in music. I said as much, kick-starting a fight over whether to leave the car stereo or off, which lasted until he was pulled over by a fat white cop in a beat up van.
"Piss off, officer." Ra said, without rolling down the windows. Before the story got longer, he earned himself a fat ticket, fat like the policeman, of 150 dollars.
"If you'd turned off the damned music..."
"Shut up. Look, Tasha's coming. She bangs really good."
We were in the driveway of the club, pretty much the only men yet to be wasted beyond redemption.
"Alright. Now what?"
The redhead he'd been gushing about knocked on the window, flashing a smile that was pretty as fuck. Ra pressed the window switch on the driver door, leaning back in his seat so Tasha (or whatever he said her name was) saw pretty much only me, at first.
"Hey handsome," she drawled.
Boy oh boy, this would be a long night, huh?