Kid

by Korry Smith

  "You would do that?" I asked, trying hard to keep the excitement out of my voice.

  It didn't work.

  "Of course. But only if you want me to."

  "I do," I said, bowing my head shamefully.

  He pounded his left fist repeatedly on the car’s ceiling. "I fucking knew it."

  “Ugh!” I groaned and bit my lip, trying hard not to laugh at his silliness, but he was too cute. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.” Alex jerked the steering wheel swiftly to the right, cutting off two lanes of traffic and jumping off the freeway.

  I screeched and clutched the dashboard. “What the hell are you doing?”

  "I'm taking you out shooting."

  "What, now?"

  "Why not?" He reached over and placed his hand on my leg, giving it a gentle squeeze. "There's no time like the present, right?"

  I didn’t know if it was because he was touching me, or the fact my life was becoming nothing but a whirlwind, but I was hard-pressed to argue with him.

  “Right.

  Chapter Three

  Alex took me out to the desert north of Phoenix. It was an odd choice, considering out here the heat could rise and make seventy degrees feel like a hundred, but he said that we couldn't go to an indoor shooting range because I wasn't eighteen.

  Again, my age brought up as a hindrance, and I had to suppress a sigh.

  I wondered if he honestly thought of me as a kid. The way he looked at me and with some of the things he has said suggested that he didn't. And despite being so adamant about it with Len, it was hard to believe that he would be staying away from me just because it was against the law.

  "This is a Colt 1911 with a nickel finish and a rosewood grips," Alex said, displaying the new pistol to me.

  He kept it wrapped up in a white cloth, tightly tucked into a leather box and stored safely in the trunk of his car. Why wouldn’t he separate the two, the Chevelle from the gun? He wouldn’t. They were both his babies.

  Alex went on and on about the damn thing for a good twenty minutes. The gun was chrome-plated and shiny, and when he held it up, explaining the way the bullet discharged from it, I saw my bored reflection gazing back at me.

  I just wanted to get to it already.

  "It's got eleven rounds in the magazine and one in the—" He stopped in mid-sentence, dropping his hand, and narrowing his eyes. "What's the problem?"

  I sighed, showing my frustration. "I don't see the point in all this detail. A gun is just a gun."

  "A gun is not just a gun, Mad," he said, his mouth in a stern line. "You have to know what you got in your hand before you even think about using it."

  My mind went straight to the gutter with that one, and I giggled. "Is that an invitation?"

  It was a tasteless joke, obviously, but Alex wasn't in a joking mood.

  He glowered at me. "Do you want to shoot my gun or not?"

  I bit my tongue.

  Everything he said sounded sexual, and I didn't know if he was doing it on purpose, or if I was being too hopeful by twisting his words and making them seem flirtatious.

  It was silly. Alex wasn't interested in me. I was grasping at thin air and trying to capture the unattainable.

  "Yes. I'm sorry," I said, getting serious. "Please continue."

  "All right, like I was saying, it has eleven rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. Here." He passed his favorite gun over to me.

  It was cool to the touch and nearly slipped out of my sweaty grasp. Alex put his hands on my hips and spun me away from him, pressing his chest up against my back. It caused a visceral reaction as my face flushed and my heart pumped faster and faster and faster, with no end in sight.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump.

  “If this thing is so special to you…” I said, closing my eyes as Alex moved his hands up to cover mine, squeezing and helping me grip his gun more firmly, “…why are you allowing me to practice with it?”

  "It doesn’t jam, and the recoil isn’t as bad as the Glock. Here.” He interlocked our fingers. “Make sure you hold it tight and with both hands. You got it?"

  "Uh huh," I mumbled, so focused on how close his mouth was to my neck.

  Each word he spoke was sensual. It sent shivers down my spine and ignited a million goosebumps. Alex made concentrating on anything other than him difficult.

  "Now, raise the gun.”

  I did.

  He tilted his head down and rested his chin on my bare shoulder. The whiskers on his face tickled. I squirmed and giggled, but he pulled me closer to his hard chest. I gave up and relaxed into him, just relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.

  I was starting to like this impromptu shooting lesson.

  "Lock your elbows and grip it tightly."

  "Okay."

  His hands were slowly moving away from mine and up my arms, leaving a fiery sensation in its wake. The ascent of his touch continued up my body until it was no longer there.

  I wanted to shout at him and tell him to come back.

  "Put your finger on the trigger." Alex’s voice was somewhere behind me. He wasn't far, but he wasn't close, either.

  I followed his directions to the letter.

  "Now, the safety’s off. All you got to do is pull the trigger, but it’s still new, and you're going to have to squeeze it, okay?”

  "Okay," I replied, my breath coming out short and ragged.

  My eyes were gazing out at nothing but Cacti and Palo Verde trees. The empty wasteland went on for miles and miles with jagged-brown mountains as its backdrop. Where the bullet would go, I had no clue. There wasn't a target and no way of knowing if I was even shooting straight.

  I breathed in deep and tried to calm my overactive nerves.

  "That's a good girl," he whispered into my ear.

  I nearly groaned in response. Alex was trying to kill me. I was sure of it. How was I supposed to stay focused when he's talking to me in this way?

  I was seventeen, and my hormones were raging, and this guy, this tattooed and pierced up bad boy, was touching me, whispering in my ear, and being all sexy.

  I wasn't mature enough for this kind of torture.

  "Listen carefully, Mad," Alex said, recapturing my attention, and pulling me out of my inner and private Hell. "The recoil is going to be powerful for someone like you who's never shot a gun before. Just keep your elbows straight and try to anticipate as much of the kickback as possible. Got it?"

  I gulped. "For sure."

  Alex’s scorching presence disappeared from my back. He felt the need to put some distance between us—and that's what worried me.

  "How crazy is this recoil?" I asked.

  He chuckled, sensing my hesitance. "It's not bad, but you’re a newbie. Do what I tell you and keep those elbows locked."

  "Oh…okay," I said.

  Time slowed as I waited for his next word.

  "Are you ready?"

  "No! Yes! Maybe. I don't know."

  I was terrified.

  "Take your time. There's no rush. Pull the trigger when you're ready."

  I stood there with my arms raised, gun pointed, and with absolutely no courage. What if something weird happened and it blows up in my face?

  Alex laughed. "It's not going to blow up in your face. Trust me."

  "I can't do this," I said.

  He walked up to me, placing his hands on my hips, and yanked me against him.

  "Yes, you can. Aim and fire."

  Closing my eyes tight, I locked my elbows and forcefully squeezed the trigger.

  Pop.

  The gun went off; the power was still unexpected, and it threw my hand back. The barrel of the gun hit me squarely on the nose.

  "Fuck!" Alex hissed, taking the gun away from me. He brushed the hair from my face to inspect the damage. I opened my eyes to see his brow etched with concern. "Baby, look at me. Are you hurt?"

  I scrunched up my face to ward off the hot sting. "I'm fine."

  "Ar
e you sure? It didn't look fine from where I was standing." He tenderly touched the place the gun smacked me. "It might bruise."

  "Great!" I rolled my eyes. That was just one more thing to make me less attractive to him. "I'm fine. Really," I said, trying to convey to him that my injuries weren't that severe. "In fact," I grinned, "I want to do it again."

  A faint smile slowly crept on his face, his eyes searching mine, and for a second, a split flicker in time, I could see him leaning down. He was going to kiss me. I licked my lips and closed my eyes. The moment I've been praying for was happening, but then…nothing.

  Something inside of Alex clicked, and the next thing I knew, he was pulling away from me and taking a significant step back. The distance between us was more than it had ever been. It left me heartbroken and rejected.

  Alex waved towards the vast nothingness, and with his tone just as empty, he said, “Lock your arms.”

  Firing the fancy gun was doing wonders for my frustration. The near-kiss played over in my head on a constant loop. I’d been so close to finally getting what I wanted, but the universe intervened and decided to bring me back to reality.

  Of course, Alex acted like it never happened.

  Every so often he would shoot with me or sprout out a few pearls of wisdom about aiming techniques, but other than that, the guy kept his distance. The up close and personal lessons were a thing of the past. The memory of what wasn’t and will never be my reality flourished into what could have been in my overactive imagination.

  It was both Heaven and Hell.

  I fired off a few rounds and fantasized about every aspect of his perfect face. Even the scruff along his jaw was sexy. When he wasn’t looking, I’d stare at his lips and remember how close they were to my own, a mere inch, if not fewer. He snatched them away at the last second, overwhelmed by his morals.

  Alex? My Alex? The man who had put a gun to a guy's head to watch him shit his pants had morals and an ethics code to uphold?

  Yeah, right!

  This guy was a drug dealer and a proud criminal. He had more tattoos on his body than skin—and that was a short list. I'm sure his infractions go on and on from there. But when it comes to me, I’m forbidden for him to take?

  Why?

  Because of my age?

  It was bullshit.

  My birthday was in a few months. I’ll still be just as mature, and my body will be just as soft. The only difference will be, was by Arizona law, I’ll be legal to date and fuck. If he was afraid of getting arrested, we could cross state lines into Utah or move to Arkansas. I’d be more than legal there, but who I was right then would be just the same the day after. It wasn’t like as soon as I turned eighteen, I was going to sprout new wisdom and grow bigger tits spontaneously.

  This whole situation was driving me to a psychotic break. Why did Alex have to be so complicated? All I wanted was for him to kiss me!

  Pop.

  I wanted to feel the roughness of his hands. I wanted the piercing on his mouth to roll over my lips, and for me to take that damn thing in between my teeth!

  Pop. Pop.

  I wanted him to grab me and throw me up against the hood of his car.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  I wanted him to rip off my clothes and press his lean, hard-rock body against mine, whispering into my ear about how much he had to have me. Right there! Right now!

  Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

  Closing my eyes, I kept squeezing the damn trigger, but nothing was happening. It just clicked. The gun spent, and it was the third clip that I'd exhausted for the sake of therapy.

  I turned back to Alex and spoke flatly. "I'm out again."

  Alex was leaning on his car and watching me with an amused expression. His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear him.

  "What?" I shouted.

  Laughing and shaking his head, he handed me another one from his back pocket. "I said," the ringing in my ears was still drowning him out, "are you deaf yet?"

  Alex was the closest he'd been to me since the failed kiss. I could still see the reservations in his eyes and the overwhelming display of his disconnect. That bothered me. But why did I care so much? Like seriously? I didn't know the guy. It had been, what? Eighteen hours since we've met? How did this thing for him go beyond a simple crush?

  "What? I can't hear you." It was a lie. I heard him fine. The tug on his shirt to bring him closer than lawfully allowed was for selfish reasons.

  He relented and let me pull him down. Our faces were centimeters away and moving inward with every breath. I stared at his mouth and watched with lustful fascination as he chewed on his lip ring.

  "Can you hear me?" he whispered.

  I nodded, hypnotized by his words.

  "Good.” Smiling coyly, he jerked away from me so abruptly that my fingers lost their grasp. "We should go."

  My heart broke into a million fragments. I wasn’t strong enough to hide my disappointment. Alex ignored it. Instead, he took the Colt from me and wrapped it up in a white cloth. So carefully. The way he took special care of that gun made me jealous.

  "You did good, kid.” Alex patted me on the back.

  It struck me as patronizing. I rolled my eyes and didn’t even bother playing nice. “You did well."

  "What?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with surprise. "Wait…are you fucking correcting my grammar?"

  "Forget it," I said, brushing past him, and stomping towards the car, mumbling about him being a tease under my breath.

  He had no idea what he was doing to me. For sure, I was a tad impatient, but it was because he kept toying with me. One minute he was going to kiss me and then next minute he was patting me on the back like a little buddy. If I knew one way or the other how he felt about me, I could at least act appropriately around him.

  I swung around to confront the jerk to find that he was already there and standing over me with a smug smirk on his stupid face.

  "Why did you take me out shooting?" I backed away from him—suddenly so irritated with his closeness.

  He stalked me around the car like I was his prey. "Because…you wanted me to?"

  I scoffed. "That's the only reason? There's nothing else?"

  We did two full laps and were back at my passenger side door. Alex took this opportunity to trap me there, pressing his body up against mine and putting his hands on the roof. No matter where I looked: left or right, up, or down, he surrounded me. It clouded everything, except for the scent of gunpowder and dirt. That was potent, but beneath all that was Alex—and he smelled…amazing.

  Like any competent drug dealer, Alex gave me just a small taste of the merchandise to make me an instant addict, and believe me; I was hooked.

  “Ask me what you really want to ask me.”

  All my courage was slipping away, and I struggled to keep my breathing under control. This guy was consuming me more than he’ll ever know. I couldn't think or speak for that matter. I just stared up at him.

  "Fucking ask me," he said firmly, noticing my reluctance.

  Somewhere from the depths, I managed to summon the courage and just came out with it.

  "Why didn't you kiss me?"

  "What?"

  "You were going to kiss me, but at the last minute you didn't, why? Is it the age thing? Because if you're worried about it, I'll have you know that I'm turning eighteen on April 19th, that’s, like, three months away. Ninety days to be exact."

  The dam broke, and truth spilled out, flooding the both of us.

  "I'll be sure to mark that on my calendar."

  "I don't care that you're old."

  He narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm not old."

  "You're twenty-eight. That's two years away from thirty. That's old."

  "So, why would you want an old man to kiss you then?" he asked, leaning down, and hovering his lips over mine.

  "I've got daddy issues?"

  He laughed. "Jesus, kid. What am I going to do with you?"

  Well, I have some ideas about
that, Alex. The way you have me pinned to this car right now, I'd say we are halfway there.

  That's what I should've said, but instead, I chickened out and let my insecurities shine.

  "Is it really about my age or is it something else?"

  He groaned and rested his forehead against mine. "You don't want to get mixed up with someone like me."

  "I'm kind of already am."

  Alex's head snapped up. Those usual ocean eyes were a dark current. "No, you're not. You're still good. I don't want to ruin that."

  "I'm not as good as you think I am!" I pushed him away.

  He stumbled back. "No, I'm pretty sure you are."

  "Really? Well, I do believe that last night you caught me trying to steal your car. Good girls don't steal cars."

  "Yeah, but you didn’t do that because you wanted to, and let’s fucking be real here, all right? You got your piss poor techniques from watching movies, not through experience."

  "So? What difference does that make? If you're so concerned about my amateur skills, why don't you teach me?"

  He pinched the bridge of his nose with frustration. "Boosting cars isn’t something you can put on your résumé, kid."

  I snorted. "I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed.”

  “What?” He grabbed my arm before I could turn away from him and stared at me with sheer disbelief. "You're choosing a life of crime now? Do you know how crazy that sounds? No one chooses this fucking life, Mad. All right? It chooses you."

  Brushing him off, I refused to allow him to play me. That meant all touching was off limits. Alex was a quick study and got the message. He backed up and gave me space. I could gather my thoughts.

  "Why did it choose you?" I asked.

  Alex put his hands on his hips and looked around the endless desert. He chewed his lip ring and pondered the question before answering, but when he faced me again, the smile on his face, as cocky as ever, said it all. “I’m the exception.”

  Whatever the circumstances were that had led him there, Alex made it seem like he had a choice. All my decisions were pointing me to this exact moment in time: running away from home, living out on the streets, getting myself mixed up with the wrong people, taking that job from Tommie, and deciding to put all my heart into a criminal.