GUY: A Graveyard Girl Spin-off Novel

by Ann, Bry

  “Mom didn’t know I owned this,” she says quietly. “I don’t want her to. It’s a tiny knife. Wouldn’t really do damage. Not like the ones Frances has introduced to me, but…” She shrugs. “It’s mine. It reminds me where I came from.”

  Shaking her head, she grabs Carl’s hand and starts to run away. Wow, Alex just said something real to me. Geez, as much shit as I give her, I don’t blame her for the way she is. We share a lot in common. We both grew up on the streets in our young years. That’s why sometimes I enable her. I get it.

  I throw one leg over the motorcycle in front of me. I swear I could have kissed the soldier who let me borrow his bike. I haven’t been on one in so long. It was even better when I called the doctor and he gave me clearance to let Kiki ride on the back. Fuck, this is awesome.

  I start the motorcycle and take off down the road to the address Kiki texted me. The feel of the bike beneath me is like nothing else. It ends too soon, but I can’t say it’s not worth the end of the first leg of my ride when I see Kiki leaning against her mailbox, all dolled up. I’ve only seen her on the island and then hurt. So seeing here now, in a baby blue jumper and small white heels, with her waist-long brown hair all fresh and curled, well, something in my chest tightens… and something below my belt does as well. Especially when her eyes light up at the sight of me and the bike.

  “You are shitting me?!” she shrieks, stalking over to me. “I'm getting picked up for a date on a motorcycle. This is on my bucket list!”

  She beams at me.

  “Thank you, Guy.”

  I see the healing bruises and the slight swelling she tried to hide with makeup, but it doesn’t make her any less beautiful.

  “Of course. You look gorgeous, sweetness.”

  She full on blushes. “Thanks. You, too.”

  “I look gorgeous?”

  The blush fades instantly with her giggle. “Stunning. You’re such a beauty.”

  “Well, thank fuck. When I put on this leather jacket, I was shooting for stunning and gorgeous.”

  “Goal achieved, sweetness,” Kiki teases.

  I laugh and take two steps towards her, lightly thrusting the motorcycle helmet in her hand.

  “So, I did get approval from your doctor to do this, but if you’re not comfortable, I don’t live far. I can get us a real car.”

  “I'm nervous as hell about it, but I'm game!”

  “That’s what I like to hear.”

  She lifts the helmet and drops it over her head unceremoniously. She immediately starts cracking up, making my heart swell up a bit.

  “It drowns my face,” she giggles.

  “Which is very depressing for me. Here, let me help you on the bike.”

  I walk over and take her elbow. I lead her to the bike.

  “Okay, so when we get on, wrap your hands around my waist and hold on tight, okay?”

  “Got it!” she screams, unnecessarily.

  “Kiki, I can hear you just fine. Even with the helmet on.”

  She throws me a goofy thumbs up, which I chuckle at before helping her onto the back of the bike.

  “You won’t let me die, right?” she still screams in my ear once I'm on the bike in front of her.

  “Never, Keeks. But if I'm gonna hold on tight to that promise, you gotta wrap your hands around my waist and hold on tight for me.”

  Slowly, almost like she’s walking her fingers across my waist, she wraps her hands around me.

  “Like this?” She’s no longer screaming. I still chuckle at her, though.

  “No, sweetness, like this.”

  I take her wrists in my hands and tug. I pull hard enough so her back is flush up against mine. Her grip automatically tightens, which is what I'm looking for. Side note, riding the motorcycle is quickly becoming one of my best decisions.

  “Ah, so I'm, like, really in your space.”

  I smirk. “Ready, sweetness?”

  “I guess so.”

  I start the bike and take off. Her scream rings in the evening air. Her hands lower. Her head tucks into my shoulder blade.

  But I feel her smiling against me.

  * * *

  “That was wild!”

  “In a good or bad way?”

  “Uh, good! Oh my God, wait ‘til I tell Rain. I wasn’t even scared.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I burst out laughing. “Kiki, my ribs are legitimately bruised, you were holding on so tight.”

  “I won’t believe it ‘til I see it.”

  “I can arrange that.”

  She stares expectantly, but there’s hunger in her eyes. It would be turning me the fuck on if her hair wasn’t literally insane, sticking up at all angles.

  I take one step closer to her. She swallows. My hands find the ends of my leather jacket and I throw it off. Her eyes, bright beneath her wild hair, remain glued to me. Right when she thinks I'm gonna actually throw off my shirt, I step in even closer to her and run my hand over her head, deflating her hair.

  “My hair’s crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Just a bit.”

  “Shit. I spent time on it, too. Fuck me.”

  Her hands frantically run over her head, twisting and tugging at the ends. Chuckling, I grab her wrist.

  “I noticed. Your time was not wasted. Besides, in case you haven’t picked up on it by now, I like wild.”

  Her hands immediately drop to her sides.

  “So, what are we doing here?” she whispers, motioning toward the rock formation.

  “Follow me.”

  I take off toward the rocks with her right on my heels.

  “You good back there? It’s not too much further. I know you’re not dressed to hike.”

  “I’m beginning to think I need to be up for anything when I'm around you, Guy.”

  “Well, thanks, sweetness.”

  “It wasn’t necessarily a compliment,” she huffs half-heartedly.

  “Well, we’re here. Let’s see if it’s worth it. I'm afraid if you don’t appreciate this view, the date is over and we’re no longer friends.”

  “Ohhh, is that so? Maybe if the view sucks, I don’t wanna be your friend. How ‘bout that?”

  I grin at her tiny little form bouncing in front of me.

  “Touché, Keeks. Touché.”

  With a nod, she trots off in front of me. I recognize the exact moment she sees the view. Her shoulders fall and a tiny gasp escapes her lips. I take a seat behind her and sprawl out and watch her as she just stares. I know what she’s seeing. I know how the tranquil view of the city and the land beyond it can calm the most aching of souls.

  Several minutes pass before she quietly makes her way over to my side and takes a seat.

  “Thank you. I-I didn’t know I needed this, but I do,” she whispers.

  “Yeah, I come up here a lot when I'm not on the island. I hope the hike up here wasn’t too much for you.”

  “Nah, I have no permanent injuries. I'm fine. How long have you lived on that island, Guy?”

  “Eh, I don’t know. I think I was, like, fifteen or sixteen when I went to live there.”

  “Oh,” she whispers, face falling. “Sorry,” she mumbles.

  “Don’t be. The island was the best thing that could have happened to me at the time.”

  “At the time?”

  Of course she caught that. My lips tip up, though I don’t find anything about my current twisted emotions funny.

  “Nah, sweetness, that’s not how this works. You don’t get to ask all the questions.”

  “Well, then, ask.”

  With a huff, she crosses her arms over her chest, bringing my gaze there since she pushed her boobs up for me to see.

  “Eyes up here.” She snaps her fingers. When my head pops up, I see her eyes shining like she’s flattered. Sheesh, I thought I was being, I don’t know, gross or something. Way to make a guy nervous, Keeks.

  “I have stakes.”

  “Stakes?”

  “Yep. How competitive are you?”
>
  “Depends.”

  “So you’re competitive. Great. Truth or dare?”

  “What?!” she gasps.

  “Let’s play truth or dare. What’s confusing about that?”

  “We are not in high school anymore, Guy! Are we gonna play spin the bottle next?”

  “Only if you want to?” I wink.

  “We’re missing players, crazy man,” she mutters.

  “You down?”

  “I can’t believe I'm saying this, but I'm down. But I start.”

  “Fine. Go for it.” My heart starts to pick up.

  “Truth or dare?” She grins.

  “Dare.”

  “Coward,” she mutters. “You know what I was gonna ask!”

  “Not my fault you gave your cards away.”

  “Fine. Now I know you play dirty. I dare you to, hmm…” She smiles and taps her fingers on her chin a few times. “I dare you to sing ‘I Just Can’t Wait to be King’ standing up, as loudly as you can.”

  She’s smiling like she actually thinks this will embarrass me. When my smile grows, hers drops.

  “Shit, you don’t care about that, do—”

  Before she can finish, I jump to my feet and bellow, “I’m gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware. I’ve never seen a king or beast with quite so little hair—”

  “Oh God, make it stop! You did it. You did it! You really have no shame,” she whispers, smiling, as I plop back down next to her.

  “None. Your turn, sweetness. Truth or dare?”

  “Ugh, I already hate this, but I'm no coward. Truth.”

  “How are you?”

  She jerks back. “What? You get a free for all to ask me anything and you ask that cliché question? I'm good. How are you?”

  I take her hand in mine and slow her down. “The truth. How are you?”

  She swallows, heavily. “I’ve been better,” she whispers.

  “I’m listening.”

  She glances at me, eyes glistening.

  “I-I don’t want to be depressing or anything.”

  “You won’t bring me down, Kiki. Talk to me.”

  “I'm good, all things considered. I felt… guilt at first. I think.”

  “Guilt? Dear God, Kiki, why?”

  “‘Cause I-I got someone killed,” she whispers, ducking her head so her crazy mane hides her face. I immediately take her chin between my fingers and lean in closer to her.

  “You did nothing wrong. You weren’t even conscious when he was… dismissed from this realm.” She snickers at the wording. “Really take this in, Kiki. You had nothing to do with his murder.”

  “If it wasn’t for me, he’d be alive.”

  “Correction. If he never laid a hand on you, he’d be alive. And what a shame that would be.”

  “Guy,” she scolds, albeit quietly.

  “Really absorb that, Kiki. You had nothing—nothing—to do with his death. What else?”

  “Just normal stuff.”

  “For someone who’s never been in your situation, define normal.”

  “Flashbacks. Issues with people touching me suddenly. Bad dreams. The usual.” She shrugs.

  “That’s not normal. That fucking sucks.”

  “You know, it really is fine. That’s a boring pain now, you know?”

  “Boring pain?”

  “You know, the kind of pain that never goes away. It marks you for life, but it’s so repetitive, so constant, that sometimes it’s easy to forget it’s a big deal and not just a part of you somehow. It’s just a boring, old pain that sits in my chest and gnaws at me sometimes.”

  “Pick dare next time.”

  Her stunning eyes meet mine and slowly, she nods.

  “Truth or dare?” she whispers.

  “Truth.” Ugh, fuck.

  “New question. Do you ever get lonely?”

  Shit, this makes me… vulnerable. I'm never fucking vulnerable. Ever.

  “Sometimes. Yes.”

  “When?”

  “It hits at random times. Sometimes it’s nice being alone with no real worries. Then sometimes I just wish… I don’t know, never mind.”

  “No, what? Tell me.”

  “I wish I could talk to someone. I wish I could just, I don’t know, get a hug. A fuck. A ‘how was your day?’ Sometimes I miss all that. But I wouldn’t trade it.”

  She doesn’t judge. She just nods. “My turn.”

  In that moment, without one ounce of criticism in her eyes as I pour some of the strangest parts of myself to her, I realize a little piece of her owns me. Always will. And I'm totally okay with that. Frances was the last and only person to get inside my walls and even then, it wasn’t a heart-to-heart type relationship. It was more like word to knife. I spoke, he killed.

  I’ve never had this before.

  “Truth or dare,” I murmur.

  She stares at me, eyes flashing with vulnerability, but a challenge at the same time.

  “Dare.”

  “I dare you to go stand on the edge of this rock, overlooking the city, and scream.”

  “Scream?”

  “Yep. Whatever anger you’ve long since tucked away, I just want you to scream it.”

  “Excuse me? I—what?”

  “Go on, scream. I—the first year I was on the island, I did that. A lot.”

  Her eyes go soft. “Promise me you won’t judge?”

  “I swear I won’t judge, sweetness. Now go.”

  “Oh, yes, sir.”

  “Oh, you’re asking for trouble, calling me that.”

  Her eyes widen and a laugh bubbles out of her. She plants her hands on her hips. “Now how do you expect me to get mad when you say stuff like that, huh?”

  “Sorry for distracting you.”

  It’d be more of a moment if Kiki weren’t clearly feeling vulnerable. Kiki turns away from me and walks to the edge of the rocks.

  “Um, so. I'm pissed?”

  Oh boy… I push to my feet while she pathetically mutters about her anger. I swear, she couldn’t convince anyone with her lazy, bored tone.

  “Alright, this is ridiculous.”

  Kiki jumps and faces me. “What?”

  “That’s not angry. That’s pathetic. That’s what that was.”

  “Hey!”

  “Are you really gonna defend that?”

  She giggles. “I don’t know how to get mad.”

  “Here.” I take the side of her arms in my palms and spin her to face the scenery. “How old were you when you met Anthony?”

  “Nineteen,” she whispers with a bite to her voice.

  “When did he hit you for the first time?” I whisper in her ear, still holding her arms.

  “Our wedding night.” I feel her vibrating against my fingers, so I let her sit on that for a moment, letting the rage build. “Our wedding night. He turned on me on my goddamn wedding night!”

  “How did that make you feel, Kiki?” I murmur softly.

  “Stupid. I felt… stupid. How did I not see it? The red flags were there.”

  “You know this wasn’t your fault, Keeks. How did he make you feel?”

  “Scared. He scared me.”

  “Don’t tell me. Tell yourself.”

  I feel her breathe in a shaky, deep breath. “I was scared. And too ashamed to tell anyone what he was doing to me. I felt broken.”

  Her voice cracks.

  “But…”

  “But I'm not broken,” she whispers. “I ran. I ran, Anthony! I left you! I-I left you! You can never hurt me again. Never, ever. I'm not nothing.”

  She spins in my arms then and faceplants into my chest. I expect her to start sobbing or something. What I don’t expect is for her to faceplant into my chest and mutter the word fuck over and over again.

  “Can you clarify? Fuck has lots of different meanings.”

  “Nope, no clarifying.” She pulls away and smiles softly up at me. “Truth or dare?”

  Kiki

  As we hike back to Guy’s bike, he se
ems more and more in his head. I wanna know why. I wanna know what has him so quiet over there. I haven’t known him long, but I know him well enough to know that when he’s in his head, nothing good comes of it. Still, I let him ruminate.

  At least for a bit.

  When we get back down to the motorcycle, I decide I'm done with his mood.

  “I had fun today, Guy. I-I can’t tell you how much today meant to me.”

  His eyes seem to darken. Slowly, he nods, but doesn’t respond, which is so unlike him.

  “Guy?”

  “Fuck, Kiki. I'm sorry.”

  Before I can even begin to process why in the hell he’d be sorry for anything, his body is plastered to mine, his fingers are tangled in my hair and his lips are pressed against mine. I don’t hesitate to kiss him back. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. I'm almost certain Guy had Anthony killed and here I am, making out with him a week later. But I can’t stop.

  He’s too persistent. Too perfect. Too fucking safe. I feel safe for once. I never feel safe doing anything remotely intimate with a man.

  And damn, who would have thought this beautiful, lonely man would be so dominating? My thoughts swirl as his tongue probes my mouth.

  “Guy,” I moan.

  “Fuck. Sorry.” He steps back like he was hurting me or something. “Jesus.”

  His hand runs over his hair once. He’s clearly distressed. His left leg bounces rapidly like he wants to run away. He probably does. It’s obviously his MO… to the extreme.

  “Guy, I enjoy—”

  “I'm such an asshole. Let’s just go.”

  “Guy, wait!”

  “Kiki, please.” The raw pain in his voice silences me. “Just get on the bike.”

  He hops on and waits. What the hell…

  He definitely has experience with women to some degree. That kiss was… wow, fucking amazing. He was so different. It was like, for one moment, he was as strong and in control as he was always meant to be.

  “Kiki, get on.”

  His hard voice snaps me out of my thoughts. Feeling strange and like my legs are heavy, I trudge forward to the bike. The whole way there, I can’t help but think Guy was never unhappy when he was on his island.

  * * *

  “I don’t want to end the night like this,” I murmur as Guy helps me off the motorcycle, still keeping his distance.