Spilled Blood

She laughed through her tears.

He tilted her head with a finger on the underside of her chin. He cupped her neck with his other hand. He leaned in and kissed her, a kiss lasting only a second, a kiss that was like thousands of other simple kisses they had shared together in their lifetimes. And yet it was different. It was like their first kiss. It was their most important kiss.

It made her cry harder and push him away. ‘You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to pity me.’

‘Are you kidding?’

He pulled her to him and kissed her again. He was conscious of her bare skin under his hands and her wet torso trapped against his chest, and he quickly grew aroused. She responded, too. They didn’t lose themselves in their passion; they knew who they were. They weren’t kids, and they weren’t newlyweds. They were a not-quite- young divorced couple in the middle of a world going crazy, and for a moment, they needed an escape.

She helped him peel off his clothes, which were wet now, too. She led him to her bed, guiding him with an arm around his waist. They didn’t hold hands. She was saying she needed him; she wasn’t necessarily saying she loved him. It didn’t matter. They lay in bed together, and he let her lead, descending on him, pinching her mouth shut to keep her cries muffled. That was the way parents made love, in hushed silence behind a closed door. She bent forward, her petite hands on his chest, her small breasts swaying. Her face was different without her long hair caught in the sheen of sweat on her cheeks, but her mouth was just as he remembered, forming an oval as it fell into a breathless smile. Her eyes were the same, too, wide open as she neared climax, not letting his stare go. It had always been the most intimate, erotic sensation of his life, making love to Hannah with open eyes.

When they were both spent, when she lowered herself onto him with her face in the crook of his neck, he had a fleeting thought about what would happen next between them. She must have had the same doubts, but neither wanted to spoil it by talking. Her breathing grew steady as she drifted into sleep. He was content to hold her. He tried to stay awake to treasure the sensation, but he realized he was weary to the point of exhaustion, and he slept, too. It was the most restful sleep he’d had since he arrived in St. Croix.

Olivia lay on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. She was conscious of all the places where her body hurt. When she moved, she was reminded of what they’d done to her. Her skin bore their marks. Even so, she refused to think about it. She didn’t care about herself or about the ugly bruises. Those would fade and heal. Instead, she thought about Ashlynn in the park. That was the injury that would always be with her. That regret never went away.

She imagined Ashlynn on the corner of the bed, alive, luminous, still maddeningly beautiful, the way she would have been right now if Olivia had driven her home.

‘You left me,’ Ashlynn reminded her, with sadness in her voice.

Olivia said nothing, because Ashlynn was right. It didn’t matter that she was angry and jealous at this girl for taking Johan away. It didn’t matter what secrets Ashlynn had kept. She’d asked for help, and Olivia had rejected her. That was what Olivia had to live with. That was the person she’d become, someone who deserted a girl who desperately needed her help.

‘You left me,’ Ashlynn said again.

She never said anything else. It was always the same. You left me. You left me. You left me.

Olivia closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Ashlynn was gone. Her guilt tunneled a mile deep, as if it could reach to China. All she could think about was ways to make it stop. Stupid ways. She went to her open closet, staring at the clothes arranged neatly on the rod. On the far back of the closet shelf, she spotted a slim gold box. She brought it to the bed and removed the top. The box contained a silk men’s tie. Three years ago, she’d bought it as a gift for her father, but in the wake of the divorce, she’d never given it to him.

She draped the tie over her fingers, stretching the soft fabric. She pushed her pink lips together with such force they turned white. She looped the tie around her neck, just to see how it would feel. Taking both ends, she pulled it tighter, until the pressure began to hurt. It would have to be much tighter. She would have to knot it so she couldn’t pry it loose with her fingers. A knot on one end. The other end tied to the clothes rod.

Olivia went to the full-length mirror on the closet door. The flaps of the navy blue tie hung down her T- shirt.

You left me.

She took the fat end of the tie in her hands. She stared at her face and imagined it purple, her tongue swollen, her eyes bulged out like a boxer dog. Hideous.

She heard Kimberly’s voice in her head, and she knew what her friend would say. ‘Don’t you dare, Livvy.’

Olivia sighed, knowing that Kimberly was right. She couldn’t do it. She wrapped the fat end over the skinny end and pushed it over the loop on her neck. She tucked the flap back into the knot and adjusted it so that it was perfect. It was just a tie now, not a noose. She stuck out her tongue at herself, and then she stripped off the tie and threw it back in the closet.

Olivia heard a sharp ping on her bedroom window. Sometimes a bird flew into the glass. Sometimes the wind blew acorns against it. She glanced toward the river, and as she watched, it happened again. A rock struck the window and bounced away. Someone was down there, throwing stones to attract her attention.

She knew who it was, and her heart raced. She ran to the window and saw him hiding in the trees on the river bank, waving at her.

Johan.

Olivia threw open the window, but she thought better of calling to him. She didn’t think her parents would want them talking to each other. Instead, she made her usual escape, clinging to the gutter, jumping to the ground. The fall hurt this time. She ran for the trees, and before she could say a word, he pulled her toward the river bank, where they were invisible from the house. He reached out and held her fiercely.

‘Those bastards,’ he whispered. ‘Are you okay?’

She could feel him quivering with rage. When he took her elbows, she had a chance to look at him, and he wasn’t the Johan she knew. It wasn’t just the cuts and welts on his face. His eyes were different. She didn’t recognize him.

‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Really, it’s fine.’

‘You’re lying.’

She was, but he didn’t need to hear the truth. ‘Don’t worry about me. How are you?’

He shrugged, as if his own injuries were nothing. ‘It was Kirk,’ he said. ‘Him and the others. They did it.’

‘Big surprise.’

‘I made Lenny tell me.’

Olivia looked at his hands, where the knuckles were bloody. ‘Johan, what did you do?’

‘Nothing compared to what I’m going to do.’

She’d heard that hatred in the voices of other St. Croix boys, but never from Johan. ‘Don’t take this on,’ she told him. ‘Please. It’s not your fight.’

‘Yes, it is. I’ve listened to my father for years, but he’s wrong. You can’t just take it. You can’t lie down and let them kick you. Sooner or later, you have to fight back.’

‘You’ll get hurt or you’ll get in trouble. That won’t change what happened.’

‘I don’t care. I can’t take doing nothing. Look at what they did to you! Look at what they did to Ashlynn!’

‘Nothing you do will bring her back or make this go away for me. You’re only going to make things worse.’

Johan sank to his knees. When he spoke, his throat was tight with grief. ‘She was pregnant, Olivia.’

‘I know.’

‘The baby was going to die. Our baby. She had to have an abortion.’

‘I heard. It’s awful.’

‘It’s their fault. All of them. Florian. Mondamin. Kirk. Barron. I have to do something.’

‘What are you going to do?’ Olivia asked.

‘I’m going after Kirk tonight. With him gone, the feud will collapse. It’ll be over and done.’

‘No. For God’s sake, Johan, do not do that. I won’t let you.’

‘I’m doing it for you. And Ashlynn. And Kimberly, too.’