An Evil Mind

Terrance inhales sharply through his teeth. “Damnit. I thought I’d found a straight pipe in those two. But they’re always a little more crooked than you’d like, aren’t they? I’m not going away for something like that. You’ve got your name – Kyle Morris. Easier to remember than the other one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some phone calls to make.”

We get up, and he shakes my hand before we’re escorted promptly out of the lounge. The music blares again, the smell of sweat and cloying perfume practically assaulting me. Charlie follows me to the door, and asks questions only when we’re on the curb.

“Why’d you lie? We ain’t DEA, the DEA ain’t after them.”

“We aren’t anything,” I say. “We’re third party contracts. If I told him the truth, that we were approached by the CIA, do you really think he would’ve taken us seriously? Look at us – we’re teenagers in their eyes. The CIA doesn’t contract teenagers, and it doesn’t tell teenagers what it’s up to, but the DEA does, constantly. Especially on college campuses.”

Charlie makes a face, but doesn’t argue. “I guess Gregory was right to put you on this shit. You know some things.”

It’s as close to a compliment as I’ll get from him, but I only barely hear it. My eyes are riveted to the curb, where two students are kissing fervently. The boy has dark hair and huge arms and is sliding his hand up the girl’s red shirt, a shirt I recognize very well from a certain day in a certain high school after certain photos were posted around, and her makeup is darker and bolder than I’ve ever seen it and she looks so skinny, so small against his huge hands and face as their lips meet, her hair wild around her cheeks - the passion in the kiss so bright, so tangible - and my body stops responding, my blood pumping hot and hard through my every vein as the beast in me begins to growl.

“You!” Charlie shouts. The boy pulls back, and Isis Blake looks up with surprised eyes.

I yank on my own chain, pulling myself inward so I won’t explode outward. I bring up every lesson of Gregory’s in rapid-time, his advice and the steps and methods colliding in a desperate attempt to regain control. She is kissing someone else but I have no jurisdiction. I have no right. I broke her and I left her, and she is free to kiss whomever she wants. She deserves to be in love with whomever she wants, whenever she wants. I have no right. I have no right. She is not mine and I have no right, I gave up that chance, he is better than me, he is kind to her, he has to be kind to her or I’ll rip out his throat –

Isis smiles, holding a hand up. “Hey, Tiny-Balls. What’s up?”

Charlie raises his hackles. “Tiny what? Screw you, bitch!”

I’m about to lunge for him when the dark-haired boy does it for me. He gets in Charlie’s face, his shadow looming over the both of us and his green eyes furious.

“What did you just say to her?”

Before Charlie can throw a punch, I step between them, staring into the boy’s eyes. He’s the same height as me, but his shoulders are much broader, and his core radiates muscle and power. A jock. Surprising – I didn’t think she’d go for one of them. Then again, the things I’d been hearing on campus were all about her doing out-of-character things.

“I apologize,” I say icily. “For my friend’s behavior. He doesn’t know how to rein himself in sometimes.”

I dare to glance at Isis over the boy’s shoulder, and our eyes meet, the thorns digging in until she looks away first. The thought of her kissing him, kissing someone who isn’t me with genuine want, makes me sick. But I swallow it. I have no right to feel this way.

“Kieran,” Isis says. “It’s okay! Really. I know them. He’s just kidding around.”

Kieran’s breathing evens out, his eyes never leaving mine as he steps away.

“Fine. But if he says it again –”

“He won’t,” I say. Charlie opens his mouth to argue but I shoot him the deadliest look I can, and he falls silent. I turn back to Kieran and Isis. “We’ll be leaving. My apologies for interrupting your evening.”

It’s the first time she and I have been within speaking distance in weeks. Her cheeks are thin and sallow, though she tried to cover them up with blush. The dark circles under her eyes are so obvious it’s painful to look at. But through all the pain she is lovely, more lovely than any girl I’ve seen – all red silk and dark-lined, cat-like cinnamon eyes. The purposeful deadening of my senses I practiced in order to endure Brittany shatters, crumbling as my every muscle begs to hold her, to stroke her wild hair, to kiss away her frown lines and bruises.

Charlie breaks the moment first, snarling some swear as he trudges towards the car. I put an arm on Kieran’s shoulder, and soften my voice so only he can hear it.

“Please,” I say. “Be gentle with her. Be good to her. She’s a very special girl.”

“To you?” Kieran murmurs.

Yes. To me.

“In general,” I say instead. “She means a great number of things to many people. We all want to see her be happy.”

Kieran is quiet. Isis shuffles nervously behind him, hugging herself. Kieran finally speaks.

“You’re the guy, huh?”

“What?”

“The one she talks about,” Kieran sucks in a breath. “Damn, dude, do you know how f*cked up she is? How much you’ve f*cked her up?”

I spot it then, through the guilt his words punch into me. I stride over and touch her left wrist.

“What happened to your arm?”

Isis shivers, looking everywhere but at my face. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? Isis, there’s blood –” I swear under my breath as I gingerly pull back the stained sleeve and reveal the indented teeth marks, welling with dark blood. “Who did this to you?”

“No one!” She whimpers. “I did it...I think? I don’t know – it doesn’t hurt. I didn’t know it was that bad –”

“Look at me,” I say. She twists away, but I use a harder voice. “Isis, look at me.”

She turns her face slowly, eyes meek and so un-Isis like I barely recognize them. But I recognize the enlarged pupils, the way she’s sweating, and her breathing. I round on Kieran.

“What did you give her?”

“What?” Kieran holds his hands up. “Wait a second –”

“Tell me,” I stride towards him, and Kieran, a good seventy pounds heavier than me, suddenly looks nervous. “Now.”

“Nothing! Shit, nothing! Livy gave us some molly! That’s all, I swear.”

“And you took it too?” I shout. “You let her take it, and took it yourself? What kind of idiot are you? What if she had a worse reaction? How could you help her if you’re doped up too?”

“She’s fine!” He yells. “We were all okay before you guys came along!”

“Fine?” I roar. “Look at her arm! Look at it!” Kieran flinches. “She bit herself, you moron! She’s far from fine, but you ignored that so you could slip your f*cking tongue in her!”

Kieran’s eyes spark and I see his muscles twitch before his fist flies towards me. Gregory’s training is all but automatic – I sidestep him and hook my ankle under his, pulling back. He eats cement hard, groaning as he rolls over.