KatanaCollins
patreon
THE PROSPECT: Chapter Two
🕑 Added 2022-12-14 20:11:58 +0000 UTCHere we go! Chapter Two of Tricia and Kiddo's story!
Chapter Two
Six Years Ago…
Tricia
I walked down the street away from school with my little brother Rob a few steps behind me with his friends. Jenna walked in step beside me, her hands tucked into the straps of her backpack, relieving some of its weight off her shoulders.
“Damn, I swear, this bag gets heavier every fucking day.”
“Jenna,” I scolded her with a quick glance back at my brother. “Shhh.”
She rolled her eyes. “He's fourteen. Pretty sure he's heard the f-bomb before.”
Behind us, Rob laughed and said, “Tricia, you've got to lighten up.”
Lighten up. That wasn't so easy these days.
We turned the corner to the street we lived on and my blood turned icy. I halted in my tracks and Rob nearly slammed into me from behind.
“What the crap, Tricia!” he said and Jenna grabbed my hand giving it a squeeze.
I spun, grabbing my wallet out of my backpack and gave Rob the last of my allowance. “Could you grab me a Coke from O'Reilly's?” I asked, my mouth going dry. I tried to give him a smile, but it came out shaky. “Get yourself something fun, too. A candy bar or whatever.”
Rob gave me a weird look, then peeked over my shoulder down the street. Comprehension tightened his soft features and his eyes grew watery. “I'm not a baby anymore,” he said, ducking his chin and secretly wiping at his leaky eyes.
My chest hurt at the sight. “I know,” I whispered. “This will just be easier if it's just me and Jenna. I'll wait here for you.”
He gave one more glance over my shoulder before nodding and tapping his friend, Brian's shoulder. They went running off in the other direction and around to the corner store.
“Tricia!” Sam shouted.
His voice had a lazy drawl to it I didn't quite recognize. Like his tongue was too big for his mouth. I took a deep breath and Jenna gave my hand another squeeze before we spun around.
Sam stumbled in our direction with Kiddo just a step behind him. They were smoking something, passing it back and forth between them. God, I hoped it was just pot.
Tears burned my eyes as a shell of who my brother once was approached us. His clothes were filthy and he smelled.
Smelled bad.
I didn't know that I'd ever smelled anything so foul in my life.
His dark hair was greasy and dull and his eyes dilated. Sores covered the skin that I could see and even though he'd always been a thin guy, it looked like he'd lost at least ten pounds.
“Sam,” I managed to say, my voice raspy. “What... what happened to you.”
He lost his balance, his feet tripping over each other and he caught himself against the street lamp, laughing like his stumble was the most hilarious thing in the world.
“Me?” he said. “I fucking lost my job at the hardware store.”
“Smelling like that?” Jenna said. “No shit you lost your job.”
His lip curled at Jenna before he turned back to me. “I just need a few bucks, Trish. Just to get some dinner. Life's been a shitstorm ever since mom and dad kicked me out.”
I swallowed hard, remembering that night last year. I had listened intently, my ear pressed to my bedroom door, hearing the fight break out between Sam and Mom and Dad.
They had tried everything the last few years to help get him clean. Paid for lawyers for both him and Kiddo when they went to juvie.
Helped Sam get a job and prepare for his GED.
They'd even paid for rehab… not that it did anything.
That night, they were offered him an ultimatum: Get clean or get out.
Sam screamed at them both before slamming the front door on his way out. I sprinted from where I was listening at my door and fell into bed, covering my ears with my pillow, trying to drown out my mom's cries that lasted well into the early hours of morning.
My throat tightened even more and my eyes fell to Kiddo still behind him, taking a drag of whatever it was they were smoking. Definitely didn't smell like pot. I took a step back, anger seizing my body like an icy cold hand.
“And what about you?” I said, suddenly. “You still have a job, I bet. Still living at home with your mom, all cozy and comfortable?”
Kiddo handed the smoke to Sam and my brother inhaled deeply. “Don't drag me into your family drama,” Kiddo said. His voice was deeper than I remembered. More masculine. And beneath his tight shirt, muscles pushed against the soft cotton.
“Please, Tricia,” Sam tried again. His eyes seemed to glaze over and he staggered, his hand rubbing at his sternum as if his chest hurt. “I just... I need to eat.”
“Where'd you get the money for that?” I asked, gesturing to the rolled paper pinched between his fingers.
Kiddo snorted, finding whatever I had said inexplicably hilarious and he tapped the back of his hand to Sam's arm. “She thinks we're smoking crack in the middle of the sidewalk in broad daylight.”
Sam laughed too, still rubbing a hand at his chest. But as his laugh turned breathless, he braced himself on the streetlamp and lowered to sit on the sidewalk. “Fuck, Tricia. It's just a hand rolled cigarette. How dumb do you think I am?”
“You're an ass,” I snapped. “And you,” I jerked my gaze back to Kiddo. “You ruined everything. We were happy before you and your stupid friends got Sam involved in that car theft—”
“Me?” Kiddo said, the humor draining from his face. “I hate to break this to you, sweetheart. But your brother was the brains behind that carjacking operation. He wanted to impress that car club, The Harrison Street Crew. I went to fucking juvie for a year because of him, but you don't see me passing out blame.
“I don't believe you,” I hissed.
“Guys,” Jenna said, interrupting us. But I didn't look at her just yet. There was too much burning hatred I felt for Kiddo. For how he ruined our lives. Mine. Sam's. Rob’s. My mom and dad's.
My gaze fell to Kiddo's hemp necklace with the guitar pick hanging at the base of his throat. I swallowed hard, the memory of that day slamming into me hard and fast. “Take that off,” I whispered.
He seemed taken aback for a moment, his eyes widening. Then, his glare hardened. I could almost feel his walls fortifying against me.
He touched a finger to the pick at the base of his throat. “No,” he said. A smile curled his lips as he added, “Anyone tell you you're cute when mad?”
“I mean it, Milo. Take. It. Off.”
“I mean it when I say no.”
Anger burned a path up my stomach like acid and choked high in my throat.
“Tricia! Kiddo!” Jenna's voice was more urgent this time and I glanced over where she was crouching over Sam's body. “Something's wrong. I think... I think he's overdosing.”
The world around me started spinning. Sam's shaking body, slamming into the concrete ground. White foam dripping from the corners of his mouth. I heard Jenna on her cell phone, calling 9-1-1.
Sirens blared in my ears and even though I knew they were close, they sounded so far away.
Kiddo's hand found the back of my head and he pulled me into his chest as the EMT's pumped Sam's stomach, put Sam on a stretcher, and loaded him into the back of an ambulance.
“Don't look,” Kiddo whispered as tears leaked from my eyes. He cradled the back of my head, stroking his fingers through my hair. “Don't watch.”
My cheek pressed against the guitar pick necklace Sam had given me so many years ago, my tears staining a river across it, saturating Kiddo's shirt. “I'm sorry,” he said over and over. “I'm so fucking sorry.”
In the background, I heard a woman's voice say, “Time of death, 3:44pm.”
Sorry wasn't going to make this okay.
Sorry wasn't going to repair the gaping hole in my heart.
Sorry wasn't going to bring my brother back.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there in Kiddo’s arms.
I sniffed, my eyes so swollen I could barely see through them.
Pulling out of Kiddo's grasp, I saw his cheeks were streaked with tears, too.
The sight of his tears, his sorrow made the volcano inside me erupt in pure, undiluted rage.
I shoved his shoulders hard. “Don’t you cry!” I screamed.
He stumbled back, but didn't fight me. Didn't even seem that surprised. Like this whole time he was holding me, this was what he was expecting to happen. “Don't you dare fucking shed a tear for him!” I shouted through my tears. “Don’t you hold me. Don't tell me it's okay. Maybe the only good thing to come out of this is that you'll be out of our lives finally!”
“Tricia,” Mom's voice behind me made my knees buckle. I blinked, taking in the scene around me. Dad was holding Rob. A sheet was over Sam’s lifeless body.
Falling, Mom caught me in her arms as we both crumbled to the ground. “My baby,” she cried, her lips pressed to my head.
I glared at Kiddo as he backed away from the scene. The scene he created. The scene he was at fault for. I closed my eyes, holding my mom tighter and when I opened them again, Kiddo was gone.
Keep reading Chapter 3 here! ---> https://www.patreon.com/posts/prospect-chapter-75882207
