Forgiveness and Permission

by C. L. Stone

  Mr. Blackbourne’s shoulders lowered. “Over here.”

  From around the bend came Kota and North. Their eyes landed on me. They stopped dead.

  “Sang,” Kota breathed out.

  “We don’t have time to talk,” Mr. Blackbourne said. “She can’t be here when he comes out of this.”

  “What did he do?” North asked, his fists clenched, drifting forward, his fierce dark eyes landing on McCoy’s still body.

  “No time,” Mr. Blackbourne replied. “Get her out of here. Kota, help me with McCoy.”

  Kota moved quickly, stepping up next to McCoy and shoving his arms around his shoulders. With Mr. Blackbourne assisting, they managed to flip Mr. McCoy onto his back.

  North zoomed forward. His fists moving toward my face. At the last split second, they opened up, as if wanting to pull me toward him.

  Only what I saw first were fists coming at me. I cowered, raising my arms instinctively. I shook so hard, my body visibly trembling before him.

  He stop, his mouth falling open and his eyes widening. He took a step back, dropping his hands to his sides. The wave of pain over his face told me I did something that I could possibly never take back. “I can’t take her,” he said.

  I started shaking my head. No! You can take me. Let’s go. I willed the words to escape my mouth, but my voice box wasn’t working. I was too stunned from what just happened and what he was saying now. What did I do?

  “Get her out of here,” barked Mr. Blackbourne.

  “She doesn’t trust me,” North yelled at him. He turned from me until I couldn’t see his face. “Did you see her flinch?”

  “She’s in shock,” Kota said.

  “She hates me.” North’s shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breathing. “This will never work. She’ll never join us. Did you see her back away from me?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Mr. Blackbourne said.

  “I’ll take her,” Kota said, dropping Mr. McCoy’s body to the ground. His arms opened up and he reached out for me. “Come on, Sang.”

  His approach was slower than North’s. I reached back for him and he grasped me around the waist. His arm hooked under my thighs and he picked me up, pulling me against him. My head found the corner between his neck and shoulder. My hands moved to his chest as he carried me. I trembled against him but felt the soothing relief. Kota. It was over. McCoy was down.

  “See?” North said somewhere I couldn’t see. A growl emanated from him. “She doesn’t trust me. She hates me. She’ll never ...”

  “Get her out of here, Kota,” Mr. Blackbourne snapped. “North, focus.”

  Kota clutched me to his body and dashed away from the locker room. North’s voice traveled with me.

  She hates me.

  It wasn’t true. He didn’t know. I wanted to stop Kota but I was too scared in the moment to stop him.

  I knew with every step he took away from North, that I was making my mistake worse.

  I should get Kota to turn around. I needed to tell North I didn’t hate him. I didn’t mean to recoil from him. He surprised me.

  “Kota,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t hate him.”

  He turned, pressing his back against the door that led out to the parking lot. “Hang on, Sang,” he said. “We need to get out of here.” He twisted himself, taking me along with him, until we were out under the rain.

  Droplets fell against my face. At first, I dismissed it, my body shivering but with Kota there, I didn’t think of it.

  As the rain struck at my skin, images started pouring behind my eyes. McCoy’s hands reaching to carry me off. North’s angry face as I pulled away.

  My mother locking me up in the shower, tying me to the stool.

  It was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.

  FORGIVENESS

  Rain tapped the window of my bedroom, waking me from a heavy sleep filled with dark dreams. I sat up quickly, gasping and clutched at my chest. I felt like I hadn’t breathed in hours and suddenly discovered the pain of my lungs on fire.

  The last thing I remembered was Mr. Blackbourne’s estranged face as he was hauling an unconscious Mr. McCoy.

  The rain against the window caused my stomach to twist. That brought more memories to me. I’d passed out in the rain. I couldn’t get through a rainstorm without fainting from sheer terror. I trembled at hearing the splattering.

  North’s words clattered through me again.

  She hates me. She’ll never join us.

  I glanced around in the dark, recognizing my bed and the familiar surroundings. I traced my hand along the sheets next to me. The coolness confirmed no one was with me tonight.

  I found my phone next to the pillow. I curled up against the bed on my side, holding the phone. My fingers found the cracks in the glass. I pressed a button, hoping it would work.

  The light from the phone glowed in my face. The phone seemed fine, but the cracks in the glass were unsightly. I groaned softly. Victor would be upset. He’d want to get me another one.

  My fingers hovered over the guy’s apps. It was one in the morning. If they weren’t sleeping right now, they were probably working. I imagined that was why no one was there right now.

  Not that I deserved it. I failed terribly. I wasn’t fast enough with McCoy.

  I made North angry.

  The memory of North’s pained face had me shuddering where I lay. What could I do? I was tempted to call him and wake him up and apologize, but I was scared, too. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make it worse.

  I ached. A tear slid across my cheek and dropped against the bed. I couldn’t believe how badly I had messed up. North. The thought of his warm arms wrapped around me, his lips pressed against my fingers, his nose buried into my hair, how could he not know how I felt? I wasn’t afraid of him.

  I couldn’t live like this. I couldn’t let him think I hated him.

  I tapped at the black car that was his icon for his app. I hesitated. I still didn’t want to wake him if he was sleeping so I didn’t want to call.

  I opted instead to send a text.

  Sang: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I did. I don’t hate you. Please don’t be mad at me.

  I couldn’t think of what else to say. I swallowed, hovered my finger over the send button and pushed. When the message went out, I clutched the phone, drawing it to my chest.

  When the phone buzzed against my skin, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. He was awake or I had woken him. I didn’t want to look at my screen, scared he was angry and would tell me to back off or worse. I couldn’t stop myself from checking.

  North: I wouldn’t blame you if you did.

  My eyes flared. I sat up, shoving my blanket away. I faced the wall and sat cross legged on my bed. My fingers flew across the screen’s keyboard display.

  Sang: Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault. After McCoy came after me, I was jumpy because he scared me, not you. I didn’t mean to flinch from you. I just didn’t know what you were doing so I backed up a little to figure out what you wanted. I’m sorry. It wasn’t you.

  I waited for a reply, staring at the screen and straining in impatience to hear back from him.

  North: Are you okay?

  Was I okay? What kind of question was that? I flexed my ankle. It was stiff but working. Was he even talking about that?

  I hovered over the phone, trying to think of a response. There was only one thing I could think to say. With trembling fingers, I typed in my answer.

  Sang: I miss you.

  My heart became a tiny pit inside my body as I sent the message. It felt like the completely wrong thing to say. The second I sent it along, I wanted to take it back. It felt so forward and was probably way out of what he was talking about.

  Only I knew the truth. I meant it. I did miss him. I missed the way I felt about him before I did such a terrible thing. I didn’t want him to hate me and was scared to death that he wouldn’t forgive me.<
br />
  I strained over the phone, gazing down at the glow and waited, holding my breath.

  “I miss you, too,” a gruff voice uttered from behind me.

  I dropped my phone, and it slid down, falling onto the floor. I spun to my knees on the bed, gazing into the dark behind me.

  The outline of North’s figure loomed in the corner. He was sitting on top of my trunk. His back was against the wall. His gruff face was partially illuminated by the cell phone he held in his hands. His eyes met mine, apologies and silent questions penetrating through me.

  I should have known. The Academy boys wouldn’t leave me.

  “North,” I whispered, afraid that what I was seeing was an illusion.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his low voice vibrating through my bones. “Sang Baby, that wasn’t me. I knew better. It was the stupid drugs and then seeing McCoy.”

  “I don’t hate you,” I said. “I didn’t want you to think ...”

  “I know,” he said. He stood up, crossing the room.

  I shifted on the bed, pulling the blanket back, giving him space.

  He read my mind. He slipped between the sheets next to me. He rested on his side and opened his arms up.

  This time I didn’t hesitated. I fell into him. I pressed my head to his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. His nose touched down against my hair.

  “Baby,” he called softly against my head.

  “North,” I said. My hands found his chest and I clutched at him.

  “Do you still like me?” he whispered.

  “Yes. Do you still like me?”

  “Yes.”

  I breathed in his soft musk. “What happened?” I asked, breathing against his chest. “What happened to McCoy?”

  “Don’t worry about him.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  He shook his head against me. He pulled back, pushing me slightly until his eyes met mine. The hint of a grin teased the corner of his mouth. “Do you think I’d let you get into trouble? You’d have to take me down first.”

  “But he thought I stole from the other girls. I was trying to fight him off. He threatened to call the police. And Mr. Blackbourne ...”

  North uttered a guttural moan. He collected me again, pulling me against his strong chest. His broad arms encircled me, closing me in tightly. “Stop it. Baby, will you just once please trust me? Please?”

  I couldn’t find the air to respond. I buried my face into his chest.

  His fingers dug into my back, strong, as if trying to draw me closer into him when I couldn’t be pressed any further. “We don’t know who stole everything, but it isn’t you. We’ll figure it out later. And I won’t let him touch you. Not again. Not ever. I’ll kill him myself if I have to.”

  I gasped.

  “I mean it.” His nose nuzzled against my head. His breath caught up in my hair. “I saw it. I saw what he did to you.”

  “How?”

  “We were recording.”

  “There’s cameras in the girl’s shower room?”

  “There’s cameras everywhere. Especially in places that are almost abandoned. Your mother did that.” He sighed against my hair. “Your mother proved to us we couldn’t dismiss small spaces.”

  The new information struck me. “Did you hear what he said? Was he wired, too?”

  He paused. “Sort of.”

  His hesitation drew a conclusion that had me pondering something I’d wondered about for a long time. “Am I wired?”

  He grunted. “Yes.”

  I drew back from him. His hands continued to hold on to me so I couldn’t get far but I managed to push against his chest so I could lean back and look at him. “Are you serious? Where? When ...”

  He frowned softly at me through the darkness. “Since the first fight. The very first one.”

  That long? I tried to recall it, my memory hesitant to bring up things in the past when so much had been going on now. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “They didn’t want to scare you off. You were still new to us. We didn’t want to see you hurt. And we didn’t understand what was happening at home.”

  “So you weren’t going to ask me?” I clutched again at his chest. “You didn’t trust me to tell you?”

  “You don’t trust us, Sang,” he said, drawing himself up. “You’re always dodging. You never tell us when you’re hurt or scared or angry. God damn it, Baby, you hesitated. I watched you. I saw the tape later. It started recording when he got close and was dealing with the other girls. Even when you were standing in that shower room alone today, you waited before you sent a message to anyone. Even when you did, it was a white flag. Uncomfortable. That’s bullshit.”

  “I thought I wasn’t in trouble. They were trying to figure out who stole what and since I didn’t do it ...”

  “You should have told us right from the start,” he said. His lifted his palms, pressing them to my cheeks. “I think I’m going to get Victor to change our apps on your phone to only green and red buttons. I don’t care if it’s an emergency or not. I want to know where you are and what’s going on.”

  My heart thundered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would happen. I didn’t want to bother you guys if it was nothing.”

  “Baby, listen to yourself.” His thumb brushed against the crest of my cheeks. His fierce eyes imploring. “When we were in that fight a couple of weeks ago, did you hesitate before you jumped in?”

  I shook my head against his hands. “No.”

  “Did you stop fighting, even when I told you not to?”

  “No.”

  “When it came down to it, when you felt our safety was at risk, you jumped in head first. Now, when you’re alone and there’s no one else at risk, you coil into yourself and worry about bothering me? It’s self-destructive.”

  “I don’t mean to do that,” I said.

  “What have I been telling you? Don’t wait. Call me for anything. Call any one of us. Why won’t you listen?”

  I pulled myself away. It was too much to hear him pleading like this. Didn’t I send word when I was uncomfortable? How was I supposed to know that around the corner was Mr. McCoy? If that were the case, I would have pushed the red button, I was sure of it.

  But wasn’t that why I do hesitate? I remembered Micah complaining about the Academy cavalry coming in for the rescue. There was a microphone in my phone, capable of recording everything. They didn’t tell me it was there. The cameras in my house were still up, and they had access to them. I, however, didn’t have access to the cameras in their homes.

  They didn’t trust me, either. They didn’t trust me to make the right decisions. I really wasn’t one of them. I was the thing they tried to protect and unless I was within eyesight, they didn’t trust me alone. One of these days, I would cry wolf too many times when something simple I could have handled myself popped up and they would be angry.

  I swallowed back my hurt pride. He wouldn’t understand. “I’m sorry,” I said again. “Next time, I’ll call.”

  North frowned. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  My lips parted. “What?”

  “You’re angry and you aren’t yelling. Why won’t you yell at me?”

  “I’m not angry,” I said, unsure of his meaning. I was sad and unsure, but was that anger? Did he want me angry at him?

  He grunted, and shoved fingers through his hair. “I don’t understand you. Don’t you care about me at all?”

  “What? Of course. But why would yelling ...”

  “I can’t read your mind. Just tell me what you want.”

  In the darkness, my fingers sought out his body again, tracing up along his forearm to his shoulders. I wanted to stop talking tonight. My mind wasn’t ready to process Mr. McCoy and what happened, and I didn’t have the strength in that moment to figure out what North really wanted from me. I wanted to sleep. I wanted him to not be angry with me anymore.

  I wanted us back the way we were before, when he would cl
imb onto the roof to come to me in the night and have stars painted into the top of the attic space to comfort me when he wasn’t around and kissed my fingers in the closet.

  He may not have been able to read my mind, but he did seem to understand me. He collected me again, drawing me down with him against the bed. He drew me in until my head was pressed to his chest. He hooked a leg around mine. His lips brushed against the top of my head.

  In the quiet as I rested next to him, I bit my tears of frustration so I wouldn’t scare him.

  Friends were complicated.

  NEVER STANDING STILL

  The only reason I showed up at school on Friday was Kota’s prodding. I was a zombie the entire day, and I was pretty sure I zoned out during all of my classes. The football game that week was an away game at a city a good distance from Charleston, so North and Silas had to leave midday on the bus to the rival school.

  No McCoy. I wasn’t clear what happened to him and the guys kept quiet about it. Even Mr. Blackbourne told me not to worry about it.

  I still worried, though. Not knowing was the worst. I would never admit it, but Derrick’s little quip about burying dead bodies came back to me. That and not knowing Mr. McCoy’s location had me thinking he was going to pop up around the corner at any moment. He knew where I lived. He was probably very angry with me. He’d come back for me.

  I wanted to ask Kota if we could go to the football game, but as the afternoon wore on, I was almost passing out. When I got home that day, Kota and Nathan both insisted I sleep.

  And I did. I slept through the afternoon and all night. I woke up with Kota next to me on the bed. Nathan was on the floor.

  I checked the clock on the stereo, which glared five in the morning at me. I wasn’t tired any more though. I inched out of the bed, trying to get out without waking Kota. I tiptoed over to the attic, opening the door. From the small wardrobe, I pulled out a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top. It was Saturday. I was grateful. I had a weekend to recuperate and I was going to utilize every moment by not worrying about McCoy and school for now. I wanted to stay with the guys for every moment, the only way I really felt safe.