Forever Yours (Forever Series)

by Kar, Alla

  Getting out, I look around for anyone. A loud whistle echoes through the air and I whip around. Seth is leaning against the tree closest to the parking lot. “Always the hero,” he says. “Threaten someone’s lover and they come runnin’. Very predictable, Taylor,” he says.

  Setting my jaw, I stare him down. “Can I whoop your ass and get this over with? I have places to be.”

  “Touchy,” Seth says. “But, I wouldn’t be so confident tonight, Taylor. There’s more to me than meets the eye.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, enough bullshit. Where are we doing this?”

  He gives me a psychotic smile and motions for me to follow him. He turns toward the trees and I hesitate. This bastard is going to kill me. Well, try to kill me.

  He scoffs. “Ye of little faith, Taylor. We’re fighting in a clearing close by. We can’t fight here in the parking lot, now can we?”

  Searching the parking lot, I nod. “Okay. Lead the way.” He smiles and turns back toward the woods. I follow at a close distance. It’s nothing but woods, I’m beginning to believe that he really is luring me out here to kill me and dump my body. Until I hear it. A loud roar of people. A crowd. Shit.

  The trees thin and a circle of people are waiting for us in a small clearing. “We’re here, kids,” Seth yells. My eyes rake over the crowd and I notice they’re all men. A nervous flutter erupts in my chest. And I don’t get nervous.

  “Where are the girls?” I ask. Everyone knows girls are always at fights. It’s in their blood.

  Seth looks around and a smile rises from the corner of his mouth. “Why are you worried about girls, Taylor? You’re engaged, am I correct? Layla James,” he hisses through his teeth.

  My eyes catch the campfire to the left of me. It’s the only light we have. “You know good and damn well what I mean, Seth Samuels,” I say.

  He runs his fingers through his dark, blond hair. He barks out a laugh. “So you do know who I am. Did Henry tell you?”

  Everyone is watching us. “No. You and your father look a lot alike. Well, you used to look a lot alike. But, you know I’ve already met him.”

  His eyes glaze over and a dark hue covers them. “Don’t you dare talk about my father.”

  “What?” I ask, examining my fingers. “Does that hurt your feelings, Seth? Like he hurt Layla when he killed her parents? Or tried to kill her?”

  “They deserved it,” he shouts.

  “He’s dead, Seth. It hurts, I know. It sucks to have sucky ass dads but it’s a fate some of us have to deal with. Obviously you didn’t come here to share stories about our dads, so are we going to fight or not?”

  Seth’s shaking. I can see it from here. “Oh, we’re going to fight alright. And I’m sure as hell you aren’t leaving these woods. This is for my dad!”

  “I didn’t kill your dad, Seth.” I take a step toward him. My fists are clenched. I watch the fog my breath makes in front of me.

  “No, Damon did. He’s next.”

  “Will killing us bring back your dad? Let me answer that for you, no. It won’t. Just like killing you won’t bring back Layla’s parents.”

  He tugs on his hair. “They deserved it!”

  He’s on the brink of losing it. It’s all I need. Once he loses it, he can’t control his fighting like he wants to. He goes insane. Picking up a rock, I roll it between my palms. “No, they didn’t. Your father is a murderer.”

  He’s deathly still for a moment before he launches himself at me. His fists are flying and he barrels toward me like a bull. Taking my stance, I easily dodge his fist. He’s so mad it’s making it too easy. He stumbles to the ground and I grab the back of his jacket and push him down onto his back. He’s laughing when I look down at him. “You really think it’d be this easy this time?”

  Straddling him, I rare back and hit his jaw as hard as I can. It cracks underneath my fist. “It was last time, so why not this time?”

  Blood runs down from a cut on his cheekbone into his mouth. When he smiles blood coats his teeth. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He smiles and the scar on his face makes him look like the Joker. “Do you know how my dad and I got these scars,” he whispers. I don’t answer. I’m staring down at him, blood covering my hand. “We were jumping this guy at a boat dock. We had him, too.” He laughs and blood gurgles from his mouth. “They caught us. Took a hook from the sail boat and cut both of our mouths.” He locks eyes with me. “Know where they are now? Dead. We fucking butchered all of them. And you’re next. You and your little whore.”

  I’m staring down at him, shaking with rage, when something heavy hits the back of my head. Falling onto the ground, I look through blurry eyes. My vision blurs and all I can concentrate on is the dirt beneath my hands. Rocks pierce through my palms, and I can feel the warm blood coating them. A silhouette is looming over me. My head spins but I focus and I see one of the random guys standing over me with a huge rock in his hand.

  “I warned you, Taylor,” Seth says, crawling a few feet away from me. He’s bleeding profusely and I know I’m going to be bleeding next. I wasn’t brought out here to fight, I was brought out here to die. They’re going to kill me. “I told you. You’re not winning this time, Taylor Jacks. And you’re not leaving.”

  I don’t doubt him. The same guy, or maybe it was a different one, swings another hard lick to my cheek. It burns. The metallic taste of blood is running down my throat now. Turning my head, I try to spit the blood out but it runs down my chin to soak into my hoodie.

  God, my body is numb. Another hit. More blood. It’s all running together. Just fucking kill me now. Damon and Henry will have to take care of Layla. Tears are running down my face and they’re laughing. It’s not from the pain, I’ve had plenty of pain in my life. It’s from the thought of Layla being alone. The hurt she’ll feel when they find my lifeless body decaying in the woods. A foot slams into my ribs and memories are surfacing. I try to push them down. I try to push through that aching pain, but it comes. Suffocating me.

  ***

  “Where is my fucking dinner, Mandy? I told you to have it ready when I got home.” A loud shatter of glass echoed against the far wall of the dining room. I didn’t hear my mother respond, but I’m sure she whispered something to him, not that it would help.

  My notebook was opened on my desk, and my calculus book sat next to it. The pen in my hand was clutched so tight it snapped into two pieces. Tossing it over my shoulder, I reached and grabbed another one.

  “You put it away? Why isn’t it ready right now, huh?” Another loud thud sounded off the floor. “Where, huh? Where is it, Mandy?”

  I pressed my pen harder into the page’. The ink was making a large spot in the middle of my page.

  My mother’s cry struck a chord in my heart. Standing up, I screwed my eyes shut before walking into the hallway. I could see the silvers of the glass reflecting against the light in the dining room. To my right Trent was standing in his doorway. He had a plastic gun in one hand and a cowboy hat on. “Are they fighting?” he asked.

  Squatting down, I placed my hands on his shoulders. “Why don’t you go check on Amy, huh? I’m going to go ask them to keep it down, alright?”

  Trent hesitated with his hand on his gun like he was contemplating shooting someone. I smiled down and pushed him inside his room. With the rope I kept in my closet, I tied Trent and Amy’s doors to my own, keeping them in. I had to stay prepared. Locking them in happened more than I wanted it to.

  The living room was a wreck. Both lamps had been shattered, along with a glass bowl on the dining room table. My mother was curled into a ball on the kitchen floor, my dad standing over her, his fist raised.

  The frightened look on my mom’s face was of pure terror. Her arms were covered in blood and it was dripping from her cheek. Her eyes turned toward mine and she slowly shook her head. She would do it every time. Beg me to leave. Beg me to leave it alone. We quickly realized it wasn’t in my blood.

  Dad turned on his he
el and stared over at me. As much as I hated admitting it, I looked just like him, besides the eyes. I have my mother’s eyes. Craning his neck back and forth between the two of us, he began to laugh. “Are you here to save your mother, son? Haven’t we talked about this?” He took a step toward me, his work boots leaving a trail of my mother’s blood on the kitchen floor.

  “Leave her alone, Dad,” I said, my hands clenched at my sides. This wasn’t our first fight, but one of the first ten.

  He smiled. I would remember that smile for the rest of my life. It was sinister, dark. It looked just like Seth’s face. It sent goose bumps up my arms. “What you going to do about it, Taylor? I’m the parent.” He shoved his finger at his chest. “I make the rules and your mother doesn’t follow them.”

  “If you would come home on time she wouldn’t put the food away. Be home when you say you’re going to be home and you can eat dinner with the rest of us.”

  A loud laugh left his throat. “Son, go back to your room, now.”

  I stood my ground, my entire body shaking with fear. But, I couldn’t let him hit my mother anymore. I needed to stop it. Stepping forward, he positioned himself nose to nose with me. Alcohol was lacing each hot breath that hit my face. “Go!” he yelled.

  No movement. Then he was on me. His fists were fast, and each punch left me breathless. I knew he fought. I’d watch him fight. He cornered me against the table. Each blow felt like a hammer hitting my skull. A dull ache was growing in the front of my head. My mother was screaming and pulling on my dad’s back. He backhanded her and everything went red. An uncontrollable anger rushed through me. I’d been mad before but something in that moment unleashed every ounce of anger I’d stored up over the years. When he turned back to me, I hit him as hard as I could. He stumbled back against the cabinet.

  While he was dizzy from the hit, I reached out and kicked him in the side. He howled out and gripped his ribs. Sirens echoed in the back of my consciousness. I’m sure a neighbor called the police. Good.

  Dad bent to the ground, cussing under his breath while I helped mom up. She begged me to run, but I didn’t. I shoved her in her room and pushed the couch in front so she couldn’t get out.

  Turning around, I felt a hard kick to my ribs. The throbbing pain hurt more than a blow to the face. Then another. The pain turned into a numbness. A numbness that took over my entire body. I laid there, bleeding onto the living room floor, as my own father kicked me to death.

  I saw Amy, Trent and Mom’s faces flash before me. I could not leave them here with him. My mother would never be strong enough to leave him. She wouldn’t do it. Despite my dizziness, I focused on each blow. How his foot struck out and hit the same spot repeatedly. The police were close, probably already on our street.

  Then his foot struck out and I grabbed it, hauling him to the floor. It took every ounce of strength left in my bruised body to get on top of him, but I did. And I didn’t stop hitting him until the police pulled me off.

  ***

  The moonbeams are shining right on me, giving everyone a better shot at kicking the living shit out of me. The same fucker as before is still hitting me, but I can’t feel it. That numbness is back. Each kick is getting harder and harder, making it hard to breathe. Closing my eyes, I focus on the rhythm of each blow. Then when I know he’s about to kick me again, I grab his foot, causing him to stumble backwards and trip on a huge rock. The same one that hit the back of my head. He makes a loud thump but I’m on top of him before he can get up.

  My hits aren’t as strong as normal but they’re hurting him. Blood runs down into his eyes. His John Deere hat has been knocked off and is sitting to the side of him, covered in blood.

  When his head goes limp, I stop. Staggering to my feet, I watch the people around me. They’re walking toward me, some with baseball bats and others in fighting stances. There has to be at least ten men. I make out Seth leaning against a tree, drenched in blood. His smile is wide. He’s bruised and beaten but winning. Then he falls flat to the ground.

  “What the fuck,” someone yells. Then Damon walks out from behind Seth. I never thought I’d say this, nor will I ever again, but I’m so happy to see him. He’s holding a bat in one hand and a rifle in the other.

  “Everyone get the fuck away from him. Now.”

  One guy laughs and eases toward him. He looks like a country gorilla and walks like one too. “Ah, it’s Damon. I remember you from school,” he taunts. “You’re mom died when you were little, right?”

  Damon doesn’t look fazed, I’m sure he’s heard it all before. “Get back or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out.”

  Gorilla guys only snarls. “I’d like to see you – ,” A loud boom sounds and Gorilla falls to the ground holding his foot. “Fuck! You fuckin’ shot my fuckin’ foot, asshole.”

  “I told you to back up!” Damon shouts. For the first time, his eyes meet mine. “Are you okay?”

  I glance down at my body. I’m covered in blood. My head is throbbing and my is body weak. “I’ve been worse,” I say.

  Damon gestures with his gun for me to come over to him. He keeps the gun pointed at the group of guys around the campfire. “If any of you pull some bullshit like this again, I’ll gladly spend the rest of my life in jail just to kill each one of you motherfuckers. Now get the hell out of here before I kill you all.”

  They all scatter like mice and suddenly we’re alone, besides Gorilla screaming for help. “Shut him up,” I say.

  Damon swallows and walks over to him. “Don’t shoot me, please.”

  “I’m going to leave now. You got a cellphone?” He nods. “When I leave, I want you to call 911. If you tell on us, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

  Gorilla nods. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Damon turns on his heel and marches out of the woods. Quickly, I follow behind him.

  “You won’t get away with this,” I hear softly.

  Turning, I glance over at Seth. A puddle of blood is surrounding his feet. His limbs are weak. His eyes are closed, but I know he said it. “Watch me,” I say.

  Damon is standing next to my truck when I get to the parking lot. A few of the workers are staring over at us but I wave them off. They seem to buy it.

  Damon looks at me over the hood and shakes his head. “Why in the hell did you go to meet him, Taylor? Do you have a death wish?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, which I’m not sure looks right since my entire face is numb, I throw my hands out to the side. “Really? You’re going to bitch me out right now?”

  “I can do what I want, I saved your ass. You would be dead if I hadn’t come looking for you.”

  He saved me … again. Fuck. My. Life. Like he needs something else to hang over my head. “He said he would hurt more than my truck next time if I didn’t. What was I supposed to do, Damon? Let him kill Layla?”

  “Ask me for help? Brett? My dad? Someone. As much as it hurts to say this, you’re a damn good fighter, Taylor, but you’re not Superman. You can only take so much.”

  I grind my back molars together. “You have no idea what I can handle.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Whatever, let’s go home.”

  “Wait,” I say, holding my hand up. “This does not make us friends. Do you understand? You’re trying to steal my reason for living away from me. So, don’t think we’re going to skip off into the sunset, holding hands.”

  He scoffs. “I don’t ever want to be your friend, Taylor.”

  “Then why did you come after me?”

  Damon frowns and scratches his jaw. “Because, if you died Layla would never be the same. She wouldn’t live through it, I can tell. And as much as I don’t want her to be with you, I want her to be happy.” He sighs. “And for some odd reason, you make her that way.”

  Oh. Of course it wasn’t to save me, it was to protect Layla. “Well, as much as I want to bash your head in for wanting my girl … thank you for saving my ass.”

  He nods. “Can we go now? I’m getting sick of this
conversation.”

  “You read my mind,” I mumble before unlocking my door and stepping inside.

  We ride in silence to the house. I’m not sure what to say to Damon, nor do I give a shit. He saved my life but he is still after my girl.

  “What are you going to tell, Layla?”

  I shrug and turn onto the dirt road leading to her house. “I don’t know. Do I look that bad? Maybe the truth?”

  Damon gives me a long sideways glance and points toward the rearview mirror. I turn it down and flinch when I see myself. My entire face is swollen, my lip busted open. Blood soaks my shirt and some is on my jeans. “Shit.” I push the mirror back up.

  Damon chuckles. “I’m assuming you’re going to need my help.”

  “Well, you assumed wrong. I didn’t ask for your help last time and I won’t ask for it this time.”

  Damon relaxes into his seat. “You’re really prideful for someone that just got their ass beat.”

  “I was ambushed, there is a difference. And I’ll just tell her the truth. There is no way I can hide this, I look like a deformed monster.”

  “So, you’re going to tell Grandpa – ,”

  “Stop calling him that,” I snap. “Just stop. He isn’t your grandpa, he’s hers.”

  Damon is smiling when I glance over at him. “It drives you crazy, doesn’t it? That I grew up with her? That will never change.”

  I grip the steering wheel and pull up to the guest house. “You wanted me to fight, Damon. Don’t even try to act like you didn’t. You heard what Dan said and you want me to disappoint him. But,” I slam my truck into park, “it won’t change the fact that she loves me. I love her. She is engaged to me. So, back the fuck off before I fight your ass.”

  Damon locks his jaw. “Why in the hell did I save you?”

  “You’ve already said it was for Layla and not me.” Opening the door, I slide out and slam it shut behind me. Damon follows me to the doorstep.