people, I probably
shouldn’t have wanted a violent man. In theory, I could find someone else, but
who in the fuck else would I love besides Kirk? No other man would ever do.
Unfortunately, the one who owned my heart wasn’t capable of letting me own his.
On the last day of school before Christmas break,
one of my mom’s junkie lovers was waiting for me at the apartment. The guy was
as thin as a rod from too many drugs and not enough food. He sported a mullet
and droopy jeans. While I couldn’t remember his name, I suspected he was most
likely in love with Mom. All of the others realized she was a loser. Not this
schmuck. He actually thought they would live happily ever after in a haze of
drugs and wedded bliss.
“Your mama wants you to come see her,” he said to
me as I climbed off Kirk’s Harley.
“I’ll think about it.”
“She misses you.”
I frowned at him, wondering if he was lying or
simply stupid. The guy smiled at me, and I realized he wanted to be some kind
of father figure to me. He’d bring me home to Mom, and we’d sing Christmas
carols. The guy was more than just high. He was delusional.
Kirk didn’t say a single word. He was as silent
with Robin’s lover as he was with me most days. Rather than speak, he walked to
the man and punched him square in the mouth.
I flinched at the sudden brutality. The guy dropped
to the ground without even breaking his fall. He lay stunned, barely wiping his
bloodied mouth. His eyes widened as Kirk stomped down on him.
I didn’t know if I should try to stop Kirk. My
loyalty remained with him, but the guy was a harmless errand boy. Dealing with
weeks of being ignored by Kirk left me filled with anger and fear. The first
one was always easier to deal with, and I grabbed Kirk’s arm.
“Stop it.”
Kirk shot me a nasty look that made me feel
worthless.
“Don’t come back,” Kirk told the injured man.
After snapping his fingers at me, Kirk pointed to
the apartment entrance. He couldn’t even manage to speak two words to me to
order me inside.
I obeyed him because I didn’t know what else to do
anymore. I couldn’t leave him, yet staying made me feel like shit.
In the elevator, I noticed Kirk’s bleeding
knuckles. Instinctively, I reached for them, but he yanked away his hand with
the ferocity of someone touching fire. I stared at him the entire ride up to
his apartment.
Once inside, Kirk walked to the kitchen sink and
ran cold water over his knuckles. I followed him and stared until he finally
gave in and acknowledged me.
“Is this what you want for your life?” he demanded.
“You being an asshole? No. If you mean seeing you
beat up on losers, I don’t care about that.”
“You sure seemed to care a few minutes ago.”
“You were taking out your shit with me on that
idiot’s face.”
Kirk studied me with his dark eyes, and I realized
he hadn’t really, truly looked at me in weeks. Not since our kiss when he let
down his guard and broke some internal Kirk rule.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” he muttered.
I grabbed a few paper towels off the roll and
dabbed his damp and still bloodied knuckles.
“You’re punishing me for making you feel
something.”
Kirk looked at me for a long time, and I tried not
to fidget under his gaze. My hands still held his injured one.
“Having you stay here was a mistake,” he said, and
his words cut me. “I mean I know why I did it, and I know your place is shit.
It still makes sense, but I was fucking stupid to think I could have you here
and not push things.”
“You haven’t pushed anything,” I balked. “That
doesn’t make you some prince. You’ve been mean to me lately. I get ignored
enough from everyone else. I don’t need that shit from you too.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“No, you’re not. You’re mad at us for doing what
you don’t like, so this is our punishment.”
“I’m an asshole, huh?”
“Yeah, but I’m a bitch, so I try not to
shouldn’t have wanted a violent man. In theory, I could find someone else, but
who in the fuck else would I love besides Kirk? No other man would ever do.
Unfortunately, the one who owned my heart wasn’t capable of letting me own his.
On the last day of school before Christmas break,
one of my mom’s junkie lovers was waiting for me at the apartment. The guy was
as thin as a rod from too many drugs and not enough food. He sported a mullet
and droopy jeans. While I couldn’t remember his name, I suspected he was most
likely in love with Mom. All of the others realized she was a loser. Not this
schmuck. He actually thought they would live happily ever after in a haze of
drugs and wedded bliss.
“Your mama wants you to come see her,” he said to
me as I climbed off Kirk’s Harley.
“I’ll think about it.”
“She misses you.”
I frowned at him, wondering if he was lying or
simply stupid. The guy smiled at me, and I realized he wanted to be some kind
of father figure to me. He’d bring me home to Mom, and we’d sing Christmas
carols. The guy was more than just high. He was delusional.
Kirk didn’t say a single word. He was as silent
with Robin’s lover as he was with me most days. Rather than speak, he walked to
the man and punched him square in the mouth.
I flinched at the sudden brutality. The guy dropped
to the ground without even breaking his fall. He lay stunned, barely wiping his
bloodied mouth. His eyes widened as Kirk stomped down on him.
I didn’t know if I should try to stop Kirk. My
loyalty remained with him, but the guy was a harmless errand boy. Dealing with
weeks of being ignored by Kirk left me filled with anger and fear. The first
one was always easier to deal with, and I grabbed Kirk’s arm.
“Stop it.”
Kirk shot me a nasty look that made me feel
worthless.
“Don’t come back,” Kirk told the injured man.
After snapping his fingers at me, Kirk pointed to
the apartment entrance. He couldn’t even manage to speak two words to me to
order me inside.
I obeyed him because I didn’t know what else to do
anymore. I couldn’t leave him, yet staying made me feel like shit.
In the elevator, I noticed Kirk’s bleeding
knuckles. Instinctively, I reached for them, but he yanked away his hand with
the ferocity of someone touching fire. I stared at him the entire ride up to
his apartment.
Once inside, Kirk walked to the kitchen sink and
ran cold water over his knuckles. I followed him and stared until he finally
gave in and acknowledged me.
“Is this what you want for your life?” he demanded.
“You being an asshole? No. If you mean seeing you
beat up on losers, I don’t care about that.”
“You sure seemed to care a few minutes ago.”
“You were taking out your shit with me on that
idiot’s face.”
Kirk studied me with his dark eyes, and I realized
he hadn’t really, truly looked at me in weeks. Not since our kiss when he let
down his guard and broke some internal Kirk rule.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” he muttered.
I grabbed a few paper towels off the roll and
dabbed his damp and still bloodied knuckles.
“You’re punishing me for making you feel
something.”
Kirk looked at me for a long time, and I tried not
to fidget under his gaze. My hands still held his injured one.
“Having you stay here was a mistake,” he said, and
his words cut me. “I mean I know why I did it, and I know your place is shit.
It still makes sense, but I was fucking stupid to think I could have you here
and not push things.”
“You haven’t pushed anything,” I balked. “That
doesn’t make you some prince. You’ve been mean to me lately. I get ignored
enough from everyone else. I don’t need that shit from you too.”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“No, you’re not. You’re mad at us for doing what
you don’t like, so this is our punishment.”
“I’m an asshole, huh?”
“Yeah, but I’m a bitch, so I try not to
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