Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin
Claire
“Are you sure about this?” Missy asked, not for the first time.
“Yes,” I lied.
My eyes wide, I gulped in shallow breaths as we navigated a cracked concrete sidewalk side by side. Shadows from the two-story apartment buildings on either side of us were like grotesque monsters, swiping at us with their razor-sharp claws and making me worry even more.
“Thick-soled shoes come in handy here.” Missy pointed to her secondhand Doc Martens and my red Duckfeet boots.
“For sure,” I said. Broken glass crunched under my feet like brittle bones. A staggering number of discarded needles littered our path, and I no longer regretted pairing my boots with a dress.
Missy linked her arm with mine. “It’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” With her support, I managed a smile. My bestie, my boots, my bracelet, which was now fastened around my wrist, those were my confidence boosts, along with my makeover.
A gunshot went off, and I jumped closer to Missy.
Her expression turned grim. “That one was close. Let’s get inside.”
Walking faster, we turned the corner and entered a large open space. Apartments with steps leading into them surrounded a wide courtyard with patchy grass.
Under the glow of a nearby porch light, Missy glanced at me. “You’re scared.”
“Yeah.”
I saw no need to lie, and it certainly wasn’t only my surroundings that scared me. It was the potential for Kyle to reject me.
There were other concerns too. Like how mad my mom was going to be when she came home from work and found my note. I told her I was out with Missy, but I hadn’t said where I was going or when I planned to return.
Missy narrowed her eyes. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Mind right. Soul centered. Heart strong. I’m brave, remember?” I lifted my chin, hoping that reminding her would remind me too.
“You are brave. No one knowing you and your circumstances would think otherwise. And I’ve got you, no matter what happens. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said, my heart thumping a little less erratically.
Lacing her fingers through mine, she led the way.
I noticed that two young teenage boys in the courtyard were watching us. “Who are they?”
After another glance, I realized they weren’t sitting on chairs like I’d originally thought but on the opposite ends of an old bathtub. The one wearing a backward Seattle Mariners ball cap put his fingers in his mouth and let out three shrill whistles.
Missy nodded toward them. “Those are tonight’s lookouts. And they just gave us the go-ahead.”
“Lookouts for what?” I asked as she turned again onto a shorter walkway that led to one of the units.
“Cops, mainly. Hostiles too. La Rasa Prima or anyone else that could potentially cause trouble.” She squeezed my fingers once and started up the concrete steps. “Stick close.”
“Like glue.”
I followed her to the front door. It popped open as we reached it, and a couple of big jocks in Southside High red-and-black letterman jackets tumbled out.
“Hey, Missy.” Slurring his words, the largest one gave her a long scan. “Wanna suck my dick?”
“No, asshole.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m here with my friend. Out of our way.”
“Bitch,” he muttered, stumbling down the steps with his companion.
“Sad sack of shit,” she said over her shoulder before entering the apartment.
Sticking close, I glanced around. The living area was twice as large as the one at Addy’s, but it wasn’t a welcoming space. The walls were dingy, the carpet nasty, and it smelled bad, like pot, body order, and vomit. The air was oppressively humid from all the bodies crammed inside.
As late as it was, it didn’t seem like the party would be winding down anytime soon. Thumping bass rattled the walls and my nerves. If there was music that went along with the thumps, I couldn’t distinguish it.
Missy turned left, diving into the fray of people, and I went with her. As the crowd parted, I glimpsed a naked brunette lying on an old coffee table. Guys with leering expressions snorted coke off her. She writhed and moaned as if she were into it. I’d seen coke at Lakeside parties, but I’d never seen that.
My eyes round, I shuffled closer to Missy. Suddenly, an electrical current lifted the fine hairs on my nape. Turning my head, I found the source of that charge.
Kyle.
His unruly black hair skimming his stormy gray eyes, he was wearing the same white T-shirt he’d worn earlier at school, along with worn jeans and black boots. He stretched the confines of those materials now like he did then. How was it possible that he looked even more handsome?
I sucked in a sharp breath as he scowled at me, the formidable storm in his gaze clashing with the desperation in mine. He was mad and definitely didn’t want me here.
My heart sank as Tommy stepped in front of me, his earth-brown eyes as hard as Kyle’s stony gray ones.
“What the fuck, Missy?” He glanced from me to her. “You know Claire can’t be here.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “He won’t talk to her at school.”
“She didn’t want to talk to him at school.” Tommy glanced at me. “Remember?”
“She wants to talk more.” Missy tilted her head. “Where else is she supposed to have this out with him?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” I put my hand to my chest where my heart tried to hammer its way out.
“Fucking hell,” Tommy muttered. “Tuck that bracelet away.”
“Why?” My brow furrowed. “Kyle gave it to me. Well, to Missy to give to me.”
“Right. But she should have told you to hide it somewhere safe. Too many people see you wearing it, and they’ll get the wrong idea.”
Missy frowned. “She’ll put it away after she talks to Kyle.”
“There won’t be an after. You’re both leaving. Now.” Tommy grabbed Missy by the arm, then reached for me. “Let’s go, Claire.”
“No.” I jumped back, jostling the guy behind me. “Sorry.”
Dodging his red Solo cup, I stepped around him. I was here. I was doing this, following my heart no matter what.
“Kyle.” My legs trembled as I stopped in front of him.
He crossed his arms over his sculpted chest. Without his jean jacket, I could see the smooth skin of his arms, and his biceps bulging. Frowning, he said, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“That’s what Tommy said. But here I am.” I swallowed hard and waved a skunky cloud of pot smoke away. Kyle wasn’t smoking, but a few people behind him were.
I crossed my arms like his and planted my feet. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”
His gaze dipped to my chest. Crossing my arms had pushed my breasts up. Beneath the stretchy bodice of my dress, my nipples hardened. I wasn’t wearing a bra. With the off-the-shoulder sleeves and the open back with the little bow, it wasn’t possible to wear one where it wouldn’t show. Plus, I’d entertained a fantasy about Kyle undoing the bow and shoving the bodice down to reveal my naked breasts. But that kind of scenario didn’t seem likely.
“C’mon then.” Grabbing my upper arm like Tommy had tried to, Kyle steered me back through the crowd, and my skin burned where he gripped me.
As we neared the front door, my stomach pitched. I was afraid he might throw me out, but he turned, heading toward the stairs. He climbed them with me in tow. We had to pick our way around slack-faced junkies sprawled on nearly every step.
On the upstairs landing, I shuffled my feet on the carpet, hoping to dislodge any substance I might have picked up on the stairs. When I lifted my head, I gaped at the sight of a couple having sex against the wall.
Kyle shoved me inside a door on the left. “In here.”
A bathroom, I discovered as he closed and bolted the door. Turning around, he glared at me and whipped out his cell.
“It’s me,” he said after swiping his finger across the screen. He tilted his head, apparently listening to someone speak. “Yeah, Tex. I have Claire in my office. You heard what Martin said, if anyone saw her—” He stopped abruptly and nodded. “Good idea. Tell Missy if anyone asks that Claire came to see you. Also, tell her to stand guard at the stairs. You’re in charge downstairs. If Martin shows, call immediately. You hear me?” He nodded again. “Good.”
Kyle ended the call, tossed his cell on the counter between the two sinks, and refocused on me. “So talk. I’m listening. But make it fast. I’m working.”
Tears sprang to my eyes at his abruptness. “Why are you being like this?” I asked, tears in my throat making my voice squeak.
“This is me here,” he said. “In Southside. I thought you got that. Plus, you gave me walking papers earlier. So don’t waste my time.”
“I don’t understand you.” I was who I was. I couldn’t be two different versions of myself like he seemed capable of doing. But then again, maybe he had to.
Motivations matter.
I curled my hands into fists and studied him. He looked like my Kyle from Lakeside. He felt like him when he touched me. I felt like who I’d been.
At close quarters, I could smell the bleach of cleaning product, which was an improvement over the stench downstairs. I also felt his tempting heat and smelled his mossy evergreen scent. Memories assailing me, I wanted to throw myself at him. I longed to have his strong, comforting arms around me, but he’d never seemed so unreachable.
“Why did you return my bracelet?” I had lots of questions, but that one seemed the most critical. “Missy and Tommy said it’s not because you feel sorry for me.”
“To get you out of my hair,” he snapped, and I flinched. “You’re trouble, a loose end, and my boss has ordered me to stay away from you. But since you came, let me make this clear once and for all. You and I are over.” His features stony like his gaze, he shifted in the narrow space and pointed at the door. “Go, and don’t ever come back here again.”
Rejected.I bore the sting of it everywhere—in my eyes, my nose. Hope went up in flames inside my heart. Rubbing my chest, I sniffed, blinking back the tears.
“Okay, Kyle. I’ll leave since that’s what you want.”
My voice was small like I felt. I scooted past him, my hip brushing his. Even though he’d dismissed me, longing swept through me.
“I miss you.” A sob bubbled up, choking me, and I stopped with my hand hovering over the doorknob.
I was here now, so I’d give him the rest of it. Even if it shattered me into more tiny pieces.
“You weren’t trouble to me. You were everything I wanted. I miss who we are . . . were together. I miss who we might have become.”
“There is no we,” he murmured.
I wanted to turn my head to look at him, to disagree or plead. I might not get another opportunity to be this close to him, but I didn’t want to look, not if his eyes were cold.
“Claire, we’re impossible here.”
“Maybe you’re right.” My gaze blurry with unshed tears, I stared at the door. “But maybe not. Just because something seems impossible doesn’t mean it’s not worth the effort to find a solution.”
Placing my hand on the doorknob, I hesitated, hoping he would stop me. This was it. I knew once I walked out the door, we were done.
I would lose. He would lose. We would both be lost.