Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(106)
“Son of a bitch,” Marco said, behind them. “Ricky, man…”
“Shut up. Be cool,” Ricky told the kid and Kona stood frozen, eyes blurring as he stared down at the bodies. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to run and when he heard the whine of brakes behind him, heard car doors slamming, when he turned and saw Keira trailing behind Luka in the middle of the street, Kona wanted take back the past hour more than he’d wanted anything in his entire life. He wanted to be in her room, inside her, ignoring the world. He wondered if a twenty year old athlete could have a heart attack just from sheer terror.
“Kona, man,” Ricky said, checking the magazine in his gun. “This is a f*cking problem.”
“What the f*ck are you doing here?” Kona hadn’t let Keira move more than five feet from her car. He stalked angrily toward her, face pinched up like a cork, and for once Keira was truly afraid of her boyfriend. There was rage and fear in his eyes, and she could see, just from the way he moved toward them, that his hands were shaking and his limbs swung with a shudder. Keira held up her own hands, trying to calm him when Luka stepped in front of her, pushing back on his twin’s chest. Kona roared. “You stupid son of a bitch, you brought her here?” He had his hands around Luka’s collar, jerked him once before Keira could reach them.
“Kona, no. Stop, please!” She tried to touch him, needed to, but Kona deflected her hand with a jerk of his elbow. She stumbled once, trying to get him to detach his fingers from Luka’s collar.
“We were worried, brah.” Luka glanced behind Kona and his face went pale, eyes widening and when Keira’s gaze followed Luka’s her stomach sank; she stepped back, seeing the twins at her side and the bodies on the ground in front of her. A bitter, heavy taste rushed into her mouth and she thought she might vomit. Luka didn’t fight Kona, let his brother jerk him by the collar again before he shook his head, blinking as he looked up at his twin. “I knew this would go bad.” Another glance at the bodies on the ground and Luka brushed off Kona’s hands. “It went as bad as it could go, didn’t it?” Another nod and Kona stared at the limp forms lying on the ground. “This wasn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.
Kona’s jerked his attention back to his brother, his features tensing from the look Luka gave him, but before he could answer, Ricky stepped away from the Mustang, glaring at them. “Kona, we don’t have time for the family drama bullshit,” he called, before he barked orders at the kid dragging a body toward a dumpster.
Keira was mesmerized by the bodies on the ground. There was so much blood. So much blood everywhere. Stunned, stomach rumbling as she noticed Ricky in her peripheral wiping his gun against the sleeve of his coat, she took a step, only to have Kona grab her arm to stop her.
“Don’t look, Kiera,” Kona told her, blocking her from the blood with his large body. He shook her, gripped her face in her hands. “Why are you here? Why the hell are you here?” Her gaze went back to the blood and Kona pulled her chin.
“I… I had a bad feeling.” She swallowed against the knot in her throat and grabbed his fingers. “Baby did you do this?”
Kona dropped his hands, as though he’d been stung and he took two steps away from her. “You think I could?”
“No,” she told him, grabbing onto his arm. Keira inhaled, shook her head. “No I don’t.”
Keira wanted to tell him she was sorry, that she should have listened, but her heart was pounding too hard and that expression on Kona’s face—the one she knew was fury and fear—stunned her silent. This was the bad she’d known was coming the moment Kona left her room, and it wasn’t finished yet. If Keira knew anything, it was that the bad had not yet play itself out.
Kona’s stare only moved from Keira when Luka stood next to them, when his voice took on a desperate tone as Ricky walked away from the Mustang.
“Kona, let’s get out of here,” Luka said, pulling on his brother’s arms.
Kona was frightened, Keira knew that, but his pride, his forced bluster surfaced when Ricky met them in the middle of the street. “He’s not going anywhere. He owes me and he’s paying me back. Take that little bitch and get the f*ck out of here.”
Kona jerked around, pushed Ricky so that the dealer stumbled back before he found his footing. “What did you say? What did you call her?”
“Back off, man.” Ricky’s voice was cool, calm, but Keira noticed his grip on the gun tighten. “I don’t have time for…” His comment was interrupted by the sounds sirens suddenly blaring in the distance. Ricky’s reaction was quick, fierce as he raised his gun at Kona. “You motherf*cker. You f*cking rat!”
“I didn’t do shit. I didn’t say shit to anybody.” Kona held up his hands, placating, sincere, but he side stepped, stood right in front of Keira.
The sirens squealed louder and Ricky seemed conflicted, mouth curled up and he rested his gun on his head as though he didn’t know what to believe or who to trust. “I shot my boy when it was you who ratted me out!”
“It wasn’t me, *.” Anger radiating from Kona, Keira felt the hard tremble in his shoulders and she pulled on his hoodie, making weak attempts to hold him back.
Everything happened in a blur—Ricky’s gun pointed back at Kona, cursing and loud, angry threats shouted, then, the blast of the gun against the screech of sirens and Keira’s scream, deafening and surreal to her own ears. She saw everything happen at once—Luka twisting forward, pushing Kona away, the glint of the gun from the street light and then Kona turning toward Keira as that loud shot rang out, vibrating in Keira’s ears.