After Hours (InterMix)(85)
“Just like their momma,” Marco was saying, right up in Kelly’s face. “She is a goddamn. Crazy. Psycho. Cun—”
And he never got that hard T out. It was swallowed by a grunt, his arm folded up behind his back, chest slammed to the ground, then Kelly was on him, one knee on the lawn and the other jammed hard into the small of Marco’s back. The side of Marco’s face was mashed into the grass. His teeth were gritted and his eyes clamped shut, snot already slipping down his lip.
I just stood there, a wide-eyed, slack-jawed statue. The world went eerily still and quiet. So quiet I could make out Marco’s whimpers and every last one of Kelly’s slow, steely words.
“I ever hear about you laying a hand on either of those girls, I will break every bone in every finger you possess.” He tensed, and I could tell how hard he was driving that knee into Marco’s back by the way Kelly’s leg shook.
“Fuhhhck.”
“And if I ever hear a word about you laying a hand on that boy, I will put you in a wheelchair. Do you understand me, Son?” He gave Marco’s arm a twist.
“Fuhhhhhh.”
“What was that?”
“Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah.” Marco was trying to nod, rubbing his own face in the dirt.
“I thought so. And if I ever catch you coming ’round where I live, looking to continue this discussion, I will neuter you like a f*cking puppy. You got that, you drunk-ass, white trash waste of come?” Another twist.
“Yuh.”
Kelly released Marco’s wrist. The effort of standing drove his knee into Marco’s back one more time, and the lawn muffled the resulting wail.
“Let’s go,” Kelly said, without even looking in my direction.
I ran inside for my stuff. When I dashed back out, Marco was just making it to his feet. We made eye contact, but he didn’t say a word.
For no reason whatsoever I said, “Bye,” and jogged down the driveway and around Kelly’s truck. He started the engine as I slammed the door, and we didn’t speak a word for the entire drive to Larkhaven.
Chapter Thirteen
Kelly pulled into the drop-off area in front of my building, too encumbered by my car to park.
I��d been seething the entire ride, jacked up on anger and fear, and a sort of reckless, combustible sexual adrenaline from glimpsing that side of Kelly.
But it was so un-f*cking-fair that he could do that. That he could get the better of Marco, make some difference in my problems, just because he was strong and male and pushy. Just march in against my explicit wishes and muscle through the mess I’d been living with for almost three years with his big, stupid arms.
And I couldn’t do shit, because Marco couldn’t give a damn what anybody thought unless they were tougher than him. I could scream.
Kelly put the truck in neutral and turned to me.
I addressed the dashboard, my breath so short it hurt to talk. “How much. Do I owe you?”
“I’ll tell you after I fix it.”
“Fine.” I unbuckled my seatbelt.
My head was shaking. I wasn’t even telling it to. I stared Kelly straight in his pale, calm eyes, my own burning with anger. “You have some f*cking nerve, butting into my family’s business.”
“You asked me to come there.”
“For a lift.”
“And what, I’m supposed to just let it go, knowing the guy who messed you around is inside, thinking there’s no consequences? How’s that not my business?”
“I told you a hundred times, I didn’t want your help with that.”
He twisted in his seat and laid an arm across the back of mine. “You need my help with that.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. You can’t fix your issues with that shitbag, just like you can’t fix your car. But I can. So f*cking let me, why don’t you? Quit thinking you have to be the strong one all the time.”
“Don’t you dare analyze me.”
“Quit telling yourself you don’t need anybody.”
“I don’t need anybody.” People needed me. My sister, my grandma, the residents on the ward.
“Yeah,” Kelly said. “You f*cking do.”
“You really wanna talk about people and their control issues, Kel? Because we can talk about that.”
He huffed a quiet laugh from his nose, blinking up at the cab’s ceiling. I wanted to hit him, he looked so patronizing.