Page 5 of Rough Start

“No, I’m not!” she yelled over him, and he quieted. She was holding on to him for balance, and Kye was slightly ducked to miss hitting his head on the branches above them.

“What do you mean you’re not?”

“I mean … I don’t know yet.”

“Didn’t they accept you?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“They did, it’s just … um… I don’t think I can afford to go.”

“What about that scholarship thing? Isn’t it a full ride?”

“I-I haven’t heard back yet, so I can’t get too excited. Yet.” Shifting her weight from side to side, Eliana hoped she was a convincing liar. Never one for falsehood, Eliana couldn’t help but break character and tell Kye an untruth. Their time together over the summer and fall, now into the winter, was more than just wasted time. She needed him.

Kye had spent nearly the last four years of his life saying goodbye to people. First his mom to the penal system, then his dad to God knows where, and countless foster parents and siblings. Eliana couldn’t bear the thought of being another one. Mostly one for books and long walks alone, Eliana wasn’t the poster child for friendship.

Raised as an only child by a father who spent more time working or drowning in a bottle, Eliana was painfully shy when she’d first met this dark-haired boy. Kye had given her something she’d never had: a steady place. This tumbleweed of a guy had rolled into her life, and she wasn’t ready to let that go. How could she? In the late hours between studying, her mind had blissfully wandered to the idea that she and Kye could be more than friends. Were more than friends? They’d shared many a night planning their future to run away and join the circus, become stock-car drivers, even pirates if it meant getting out of Maine, their current lives, and on to better things. They had always been together since the first day they met. Why not now? Why couldn’t Kye go to Massachusetts with her?

“Hey,” Kye said gently as he noted the near look of panic on Eliana’s face. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “I don’t want you to worry about that right now. Did you get accepted to Harvard?” She could only nod. “Then you’ll find a way to get there. You’re smart, Eli, the smartest person I’ve ever met. You can do anything!”

“You’re sweet,” she replied as she allowed him to hug her close. Resting his chin on the top of her head, Eliana missed the forlorn and somber expression that took over Kye’s face. What he wouldn’t do to give her the whole world, Harvard included. Sure, in his waking dreams he’d pictured them settled in a small house somewhere warm with a dog and seven children of their own. From the moment he’d met Eli, he knew she was never going to be happy with a small life. She deserved mansions and diamonds and a man who loved her more than alcohol. By God, he’d give it to her too.

No matter what.

* * *

He’d been at Hal’s Garage for two weeks when he found himself limping down an alley in the business district of Pine Hill. Leaning behind a dumpster, he prayed the blood trail wasn’t prominent enough to lead the shooter to his location.

Kye was struggling to settle his breathing. His heart was slamming in his chest like a jackhammer. Groaning in pain, he peeled the material of his pants away from his left thigh. Two blood stains—one on the front and the other on the back. Guessing it was a good sign of entry and exit wound, he pressed the back of his head against the building and forced himself to take several deep breaths.

The hospital was out of the question. They’d know instantly what kind of wound it was, and the last thing he needed was more cops or questions. His home with the Duncans was off the table. Part of their arrangement was a full bag check when he arrived home. A couple of religious sticklers, if they were going to confiscate a comic book they deemed inappropriate, they’d sure as hell notice a bullet wound.

Eliana…

Kye was limping forward before the thought had fully registered. His beautiful brown-eyed bestie was his only hope. He just prayed that at the late hour, it being nearly two in the morning, she was still awake.

Of course, she is. She’s practically spent the last month pouring over Harvard.

Wasn’t it her potential attendance that had landed him in this mess?

* * *

“Driscoll!” Dropping the socket wrench in his hand, Kye stood to his feet from his hunched position under the hood of a sedan and saw Hal waving him over. “Get in here!” he bellowed, his voice filling the entire shop like a loudspeaker. Kye wiped his hands on a rag as he moved toward the glass-walled office where Hal and another man were waiting. The stocky redheaded shop owner Kye was very familiar with, but the taller, gray-haired man dressed in head to toe leather was a complete stranger.

“You needed me, boss?”

“Close the door,” Hal instructed as he sat behind his desk and lit a cigarette. He took a long drag while the door clicked shut and waved a hand at the taller man. “This is Max Strong,” he said as though it was incredibly obvious. Taking the hint, Kye wiped his hand once more on his pants out of courtesy before shaking Max’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Kye said politely. Max’s imposing presence wasn’t attested to his height alone. Probably pushing 6’5, the broad-shouldered man gave the impression that he commanded power and lots of it. His immaculately trimmed beard was a staunch gray that matched his hair perfectly, though Kye guessed he wasn’t yet sixty. His eyes were a steely-silver and were definitely sizing him up.

“You don’t know who I am,” Max observed, his voice gravelly and deep. Kye only shook his head.

“Don’t take that too harshly, Max, he’s a foster. Been shacked up with the Duncans for a few months. We’ll teach him what’s what.”

“Your parents dead?” Max asked shortly and looked between the two men.

“Possibly?”

“Just answer the question,” Max instructed. Clearly, this was a man who wasn’t going to take vagueness.