*Not edited*Not proofread*

Chapter 22– Just slightly put off:

The first time I ever embraced someone was when I was fifteen. It was Jace. He caught me off-guard. I broke his arm.

It was around three years ago, and I had just turned fifteen according to my I.D at the time. I was living on my own in Manhattan in an apartment studio in the city. I hadn't been there long, perhaps about two weeks, and the facility had been hot on my trail at that point. A video of me got leaked in the news when I was involved in some... illegal business, a few weeks prior in Maine. I hadn't had the time to meet up with Jace as everything had just been so hectic. I ditched the phone I was using and didn't bother to purchase a new one, so I hadn't been able to get ahold of him after our last form of contact when he told me where my new residence was.

A couple of weeks went by before Jace turned up at the apartment complex, his movements frantic and his whole body tense. As soon as I opened the door, my gun pointed at his head, he slapped my hand away and engulfed me in his arms, his grip stronger than anything I had ever felt.

It was suffocating.

Maybe, had he given me the chance to actually wrap my head around the fact it was him standing there, I wouldn't have felt the need to break his arm, but Jace has never been the wisest. So really, it was his own stupidity that got him that cast.

That was the first and last time (as of recently) I had ever had any form of human contact that was unnecessary and too handsy.

I don't like people touching me— never have. It makes me feel dirty; my skin crawls and my body shudders with disgust every time someone so much as pokes me with a fingertip. I try to keep physical contact to a minimum; that's why I'm much tamer than one would expect. If I touch someone, it's only because I feel that I really need to; there's no other option.

And that is what I remind myself as Dakota's cracked and split lips move slowly against mine with caution.

It had to be done.

I don't know how long the... situation, lasts for, but I know it's too long. A few seconds or so. Dakota was rather quick to respond to my bold actions despite the initial hesitancy, his gross, most likely germ-riddled lips moving tenderly the second he registered what was going on.

I pull away as soon as I can no longer stomach the pure disgust that churns in the pit of my stomach. Bile rises in my throat and I have to swallow down the small trace of vomit that's able to escape into my mouth.

Dakota's eyes are wide as he stares down at me, slightly breathless and very confused. In the... unspeakable events that have just occurred, I was able to turn him back around so he is once again facing away from the other situation.

I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, as Jace would say.

...Huh, I think I just got that saying now.

"What the fuck just happened?" Dakota asks gruffly, his voice still sounding breathless as he peers down at me with his sky-blue eyes.

I fight the gag as it tries to force itself out of me, and bite down on my tongue instead, hard enough to draw blood as the well-known metallic taste fills my mouth and the voices in my head rejoice at the familiarity of it. I grimace. "I don't know. I think my brain's doing that thing where it blocks out traumatic events."

Dakota frowns at that. "Seriously, Kody?"

I sigh, my eyes trailing off to stare at a faraway tree as its branches blow in the wind.

I don't actually know where to go from here or what to say. I've always been a calm, logical person, acting my best when I'm under pressure, but what I just did was clearly not logical at all. It was one hundred percent spontaneous and clearly a big mistake on my part.

Dakota's as well.

Had he not turned up when I was in the middle of dealing with a dead body, we wouldn't be in this unbearably uncomfortable situation right now.

'Or like, maybe don't kill people?'

Will you fuck off for a minute, Nine? I'm fucking busy here.

"You can't just kiss me—," I close my eyes as I feel the urge to throw up again, not being able to stop the small gag-like sound that comes out my mouth. "Really, Kody? Fucking really?" Dakota seems angry as he glares at me, his face serious as ever. "If you really can't stand me why the fuck would you... would you do that!" He throws his hands up slightly, choosing his words carefully.

I don't know what to tell him as I shrug my shoulders, keeping my hands in my back pockets. There's a lot of blood dripping from the gaping hole in my arm and I'm beginning to feel the loss of it start to creep up on me. The pain is bad, as would be any wound caused by a gunshot, obviously, but it doesn't affect me like it would others. After years of torture and different meds, my pain tolerance is insanely high, so while I still feel the pain, it isn't exactly painful. Just a real fucking inconvenience— especially at times when I'm dying but it doesn't actually feel like it.

I can't tell Dakota that I wasn't actually thinking about what I was doing, that I just panicked because he was seconds away from figuring out I just shot somebody; but I also can't tell him that I did it because I wanted to, because that would be an even bigger disaster than admitting that the dead body behind him was my doing.

I'm literally fucking stuck on what to say, my head reeling from everything going on. It's either I admit that I'm what one would call a murder— though that isn't my preferred term— or I lie and say... well, anything else that would get me out of this mess.

"What game are you trying to play here, Kody?" He sighs, running his hands down his face like he's been doing a lot lately.

"I'm not playing any game," I answer vaguely, quickly deciding that if he's the one that asks the questions, then I can pick and choose how to answer them without giving much away, and that will hopefully keep me from having to make up any excuse. I'll just go by what he's saying.

"So why did you kiss me if you're clearly disgusted by me?" He looks down at me in what I assume is sadness, though he's really good at keeping his face blank in a way it's hard to tell what it is exactly that he's feeling.

I opt to only responsed to half his question, or rather statement, as I say: "I'm not disgusted by you."

And I don't really consider it a lie, because while I'm disgusted by what just transpired (another fancy word Dakota taught me) between us, I'm not disgusted by him as a person anymore.

Just slightly put off.

        "So then what, Kody?" He furrows his eyebrows, his head shaking. When I don't offer a reply, he just lets out a long breath of air before briefly sticking his tongue between his lips. "You know what? It doesn't even matter," he rolls his eyes, though it's not in a sarcastic way, more so just fed up. "I thought you'd be more upfront, more honest, but obviously I was wrong."

        "Look, don't be dramatic," I begin to say, my tone calm but slightly pissed off. Everyone in this town fucking overreacts.

        "Dramatic?" He parrots roughly, his voice deep like always— maybe even deeper this time due to anger. "I'm not being dramatic, Kody. I'm just done with following you around like a fucking lost puppy or some shit. Again, I don't blame you, it was my choice to..." he shakes his head, not bothering to finish what he was going to say. "But I'm just saying that I'm done. You don't have to worry about me getting too close to you anymore. I'm fucking over it."

        Because of one little mishap?

        "Can we talk about this some other time?" I raise my eyebrow, feeling my arm really start to ache. "It's cold and I'm tired."

        Dakota just stares at me for a few more seconds before smiling, but it's not one of his genuine ones. "No, Kody," he tells me, and for a few solid seconds I'm confused as to what he means. "I don't want to talk about this ever."

        My mouth opens in preparation to ask what he means. Dakota wants to talk about fucking everything, so why not this? I mean, I'm not going to complain, but the way he said it was off. Like he really had meant his previous words.

        As soon as the smallest of noises leaves my lips, the question on the tip of my tongue, Dakota walks passed me, his shoulder almost knocking against mine, before I even have the chance to form a coherent sentence— Hell, before I've even formed a proper word. I thought that when I watched his retreating figure finally fuck off, I'd feel some sort of relief, but all I feel as I watch him is confusion and a slight churn in my stomach.

        "What the fuck just happened?" I ask myself as I try and blink away the fogginess in my mind.

        "That, my little warrior, was yours and Dakota's first real fight."

        I spin on my heel as soon as I hear Jace's voice. Though one would assume he sounds amused, he doesn't. In fact, he sounds anything but. I can't really see much of him as he leans against a nearby tree, close enough for me to see him and hear what he says, but far enough away where I can't make out his features properly.

        "How long have you been there for?" I question as I finally take my hands out of my pockets and let my stiff arms relax at my sides. A shooting pain goes up the right one, and I grit my teeth in annoyance. He just had to shoot me in such an awkward spot.

        "Long enough to know you kissed him," he scoffs. "While there was a fucking dead body behind you." He pushes himself off the tree trunk, and with the assistance of the shining moon, I'm now able to see his face. "The one fucking time you want to get all affectionate just had to be right after you killed somebody and left their body out in the open?" Jace snaps rather rudely, causing my shoulders to tense at the hostility.

        "Maybe had you let me kill the fucker in the first place..." I leave the sentence open, my tone slightly sarcastic with a good amount of accusation.

        Jace glares furiously. "No, don't blame this on me, R.A. This was your own doing. Not mine," he shakes his head. "Just for once in your life take the blame."

        "I do take blame," I counter back. "I take blame for a lot of the shit that I've done, intentional or not. But the fact still remains the same; had you let me clear this fucking mess up in the first place, we wouldn't have to be doing it now. El puto cabron was going to kill me, Jace. What did you want me to fucking do?"

        "I don't know, Kody, okay?" He exasperates, his hands now in his short hair. "Maybe just this one time I wanted you to act like anyone else would. Maybe just this one fucking time I didn't want to be cleaning up your mess yet again. Maybe I just want you to be fucking normal for once."

        "And what? I don't?" I snap at him, my voice slightly risen so he can hear me properly considering he decided not to come any closer. I don't take offence to his words, seeing as he doesn't mean them maliciously— I know that. But it bugs me that he thinks he's the only one that wants things to be different around here; like he's the only one wishing for a different life— a different background with a simpler present and a changed future.

        But he isn't the only one.

        "I'm not getting into this right now," he sighs tiredly, his eyes finding the body on the floor after a few moments of searching for it. I only think he notices it because of the light reflecting from the guard's silver wristwatch. Lucky Dakota didn't see that. "Let's just get this shit cleaned up."

"Or as you're so put off by helping me, why don't you just fuck off and let me clean up my own mess?"

        "How about stop being a child for just one second and come over here and help?" Jace berates, a crease between his eyebrows as he peers down at the once-living guard. "You know I will always help you when you need it, but it's still frustrating that you keep doing this," he heaves a sigh, his shoulders rising and falling with the action.

        I pay his comment no mind as I walk up to the body, stopping at the man's legs. I grimace at the sight of his clearly heavy weight, wondering what the fuck we're going to do. I'm strong, but not that fucking strong. "So what's your plan?" I look over to Jace, folding my arms. As my opposite hand nudges my little wound, I remember that I'm dripping my own blood everywhere. "And can we speed this up? I prefer my blood inside my body."

        "Shit," he curses in realisation, turning to face me. "Let me see," he gestures for me to stick out my arm, and reluctantly, I do so. "Take your jacket off."

        "What for?"

        "So I can see how bad it is," he rolls his eyes as if it were obvious. "I can't see anything with your fucking sleeve covering it."

       "Alright, well I can tell you what you need to know. It's a clean through-and-through, hasn't hit anything important, I'm fine."

        Jace stares at me unamused before shaking his head. "Whatever, just help me move him to my truck."

        I nod my head, licking my lips as we both step forward and pick up the dead body with slight difficulty. "And then what?" I ask him as we begin to move, Jace holding the guard's legs and me taking his upper-body, the heaviest part, because Jace is clearly a weak fuck.

        He grunts as he walks forwards, like he's the one carrying the heaviest part of the dead man while also having the hindrance of walking backwards in the fucking dark. What a poor guy, doing all the hard work. "And then you're going home, and I'll deal with this."

        "What?" I exclaim, careful to not trip over as we make our way to Jace's vehicle. "You're not doing this alone, Jace, what if you get caught?" I screw my face up in disapproval, shaking my head in protest. "What if someone see's you?"

        "Left," he instructs, causing me to turn. "And what if someone does see me? What would you be able to do that I couldn't?"

        "Um, kill them," I tell him matter-of factly, though after seeing his frown, I can tell that isn't the right answer. "Well what would you expect me to do? Politely ask them if they could maybe look the other way and forget all about the dead body?"

        Jace shakes his head, telling me to turn again and watch the tree that was closely behind me. "No, but no one is going to see me, okay, R.A? Stop worrying."

"I'm not worrying," I deny. "It's called taking precautions."

Jace doesn't bother to answer me after that, and instead, we make our way over to his truck in silence, other than him directing me what way to walk every so often. It would've made more sense for him to walk backwards and lead the way, however, Jace is very uncoordinated, so I don't really complain about it.

Once we get to the large vehicle, I chuck the body into the back, much to Jace's dismay. He thinks I should be more respectful of the dead, but this guy was trying to fucking kill me, so fuck him. The back of his truck is covered in tarp. There looks to be other things present, too, like a bucket with tools inside along with some cleaning products and a jerry can.

I have an idea about what all the things are going to be used for and I'm more than a little disappointed that I won't be able to help.

Jace always gets to do the best parts of murder.

Maybe I should've paid more attention when we were being taught how to get rid of a body.

Shutting up the back of his truck, Jace throws a blanket over the guard before turning to face me. "Go home and get yourself cleaned up," he eyes me from head to toe, probably assessing my sweaty and worn-out form. "Make sure you patch that arm up properly, okay? I'll check on it after I get back, so make sure you stay awake until I get home."

I bite down on my teeth at his commanding tone, deciding not to argue against it. I don't actually need him to supervise me or double-check my handiwork when it comes to tending to bullet wounds, but I understand where he's coming from. Admittedly, I get the same way whenever he gets severely hurt.

I can't have him dying on me, obviously... I still need him.

"Oh and Kody?" Jace calls out as I turn around and take a few steps forward. I don't look at him, but I do stop in my tracks to listen to what he has to say. "This isn't the only mess you've caused tonight," he tells me after seeing I'm listening. "So don't think you're out of trouble just yet."

___

Author's Note

Confession.

I actually hate this book series.

Like, I don't know why it's just come about now, especially since it gets so much love (thank you all, by the way) but I think it's just because I started writing it ages ago, and came up with the plot ages ago, that I think I've just outgrown it. You know? And obviously when I started it I never really had a proper idea where it was going until recently— I just sort of winged it— so the start of it was very rough and all over the place, as well as being so slow-paced...

I dunno. I just feel like I could do better but not with this book because, obviously, it's already got an established plot with characters that all have established personalities, so it wouldn't make sense to switch it all up now.

So I just want to apologise for the amount of low-key cringiness and the cliches. In the future I hope to have better, more original ideas (because the whole runaway shindig is kind of a cliche itself).

But yeah, thank you for bearing with me for this long and sticking with the book(s).