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Authors: Patty Blount

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Not Like This

“Kenneth Mele. I've been looking for you for years.”

He stood over me in a cloud of body odor and boozy breath, the man whose son I teased to death five years ago but whose grief still boiled as violently as if it happened yesterday.

Jack Murphy.

Jesus, bro!

He was a bear of a man wearing torn jeans and a windbreaker zipped to his neck. Untidy dark hair framed the bitter pain frozen in his eyes. Julie's eyes.

Head
in
the
game. Come on! Fight.

I shut my eyes. Julie forgot to mention she'd invited her dad to my beach. Suddenly, Brandon popped into my mind. I finally understood the desperation he must have been feeling to take that gun to school.

Game over, Kenny.

You
can't just stand there and let him beat you.

Yes, I can. I will.

Kenny's eyes closed. He braced himself.

So I waited. There was no point in running. Let's just get it over with. One way or another.

“You remember me?” His voice was like gravel.

I nodded…or tried to with his solid grip on my hair.

“You took my son. I won't let you take my daughter too. I came here to save her before she makes the biggest mistake of her life.”

I laughed, but the sound held no joy. “Yeah, well, I wouldn't worry about that. She dropped the act.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he relaxed his grip on my hair. “So she's not going to college with you?”

His words made no sense. “College?” I laughed once. “Right. Wasn't your plan to break me? Well, congratulations. It worked.” I twisted out of his grip only to slide back to the bench. “She's quite an actress. Willing to go as far as it takes to get the right emotion—up to and including sleeping with the enemy. You should be proud.”

Blood colored his face. A muscle twitched in his jaw. I saw him pull back his fist, watched it come at me. I could have blocked it, but what would have been the point?

The blow knocked me off the bench, and the pain was blinding. I landed on my hands and knees, dizzy, when he delivered a savage kick to my gut. I folded in half, gasping. I should have been screaming in agony, but there was no time. Murphy's heavy boot collided with my face hard enough to flip me onto my back. I lay sprawled on the ground in front of him, Kenny screaming in my mind. My brain shut down. There was nothing, only the pain. Another kick—this time to my groin—and the air whooshed from my lungs.

For one short, beautiful moment, I felt nothing at all. No guilt. No heartache. No worry. Nothing but the cold white numb spreading over me, consuming everything, and I knew in that moment, I would have to die. Nothing I'd done, nothing I would ever do, could make up for Liam.

A life for a life.

No!
Kenny's sobs leaked through the white and the pain.
Get
up. Fight back. I don't want to die. Don't let him kill us.

It wasn't up to him. It wasn't up to either of us. I clawed my way to my hands and knees, sucking wind and spitting blood—and, Jesus, a tooth—to the ground and laughed. Not because I thought this was funny. I didn't think that at all. But I figured
someone
had a hell of a sense of humor. Of all the towns, all the schools, all the girls in the world, it was not enough for me to meet the sister of my own victim. Falling in love with her wasn't enough either. No, I have to watch her tear the beating heart out of my chest and hold it up to her father like a fucking trophy. This
had
to be some kind of cosmic joke, right? Was God really this sick and twisted? So, are you laughing yet, God? I am. Look at me laugh!

When I could catch my breath, I blinked through my tears at Jack Murphy, who watched me with cold, dead eyes. I was rolling around the ground and knew he was waiting for me to climb to my feet just so he could knock me right back off them. It was real. It wasn't just a nightmare. It was real, and it was happening. Jack Murphy had to kill me. I stopped laughing then. It was all part of God's plan. It had to be. It
has
to
be
like this, Kenny.

No!
he screamed at me, and my skull vibrated.
Not
now. Not after everything that's happened. Not like this! We were happy. For the first time in five years, you let us be happy. We had friends! Stuff to look forward to! We have to make him hear us. Make him see the truth. This isn't only our fault! We don't deserve this. Think about Mom. Dad. Pop. They worked so hard to save us.

I considered Kenny's words, already shaking my head to dismiss them. The motion sent another lash of agony through my chest. Every breath I took scorched my lungs.

Rib
. Kenny offered, and I nodded once, in too much pain to care.

“Get up, you self-righteous son of a bitch.” Murphy dragged me up by my collar. “You piece of shit. She wasn't acting. She's in love with you and done nothing but tell me how cruel I am for doing what I have to do. I couldn't count on her, couldn't count on my own flesh and blood. She said she didn't want to see me ever again. Because of you! She wouldn't even tell me where you were. I had to follow her!” The tendons in his neck strained as he half-carried, half-dragged me along the path to the water.

“Julie doesn't understand,” he said. “Losing a son—” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he turned them on me, they were full of anguish. “Why did you do it?”

Something rose in me, something bitter, black and years old, Kenny's words riding its crest.
We
.

Kenny had said we.

Don't let him kill us!

I felt Kenny's energy fading while Murphy ranted.

“Why did you take my boy? Tell me why!”

Us.
Kenny's words echoed in my ringing head, playing on a loop.

We. Our. Us.

“Enough!” I screamed and surged to my feet despite the pain. “I did not kill him. He killed himself. You want to be angry? Be angry at
him.
Be angry at yourself for not seeing that he needed help. Be angry at everyone else who knew and never said anything. He was twelve years old, for God's sake. How did you not know your own kid was in that much agony?” My hands shook with the years of bottled-up rage. “I made fun of him, yes. I hurt his feelings, yes. But I. Did. Not.
Kill
.
Him
.”

“Shut up, shut up,
shut
up
.”

Block
right! Fight the pain,
Kenny directed. My arm shot up to deflect the punch coming at my face.
Open
middle!
I buried my left fist in his soft gut, shoved him back when he doubled over with a grunt.

“Don't you dare put this on me. It's your fault. Yours! Why should you get to live and he doesn't?” he raged with his hands on his knees.

I laughed, a maniacal sound. “You think what I do is
living
? He
haunts
me. Every day for the past five years, I see your son's face. It's the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night.”

“Good!” Wheezing, he shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a gun.

I froze.

Don't run!
Kenny warned.

I couldn't. I didn't have the strength.

“Walk.” He jammed the gun against the rib he'd broken, and the pain clawed through the feeble surge of adrenalin I'd managed to stir up. My eyes crossed, and my knees buckled.

He grabbed my arm and hustled me down the path. “This is between you and me. I'm not out to hurt anybody else.”

Gee, that's comforting.

We walked down to the sand, my chest burning with every step. My vision blurred. My head and face screamed. The early crowd was gone. Only a few fishermen remained. If these were going to be my last minutes on Earth, I was glad they were on a beach. He marched me behind a dune and stopped.

“On your knees.”

Kenny, I'm out of ideas.

Don't give up. Just don't give up. Please.

I have nothing left, Kenny. I can barely breathe.

No! We have to fight!

There it was again.
We
.

“I said on your knees!”

He kicked at my knee, and I dropped, gasping against the fire in my chest.

“I waited so long for this. But Julie…she thinks I'm bitter and broken. She doesn't understand. I'm gonna send you to hell, where you belong. For Liam. I'm doing this for him.”

I braced for the pain, but I had a few things to say first. “I'm sorry. I know you don't believe it, but I never meant for your son to die.” One more crush of misery when I thought of Julie. “For years, I hated me too. Until I met Julie. I'm in love with her in spite of, well, everything. Please. Please don't do this to her. Let me go.”

I stared down the black barrel of the gun Murphy pointed at my face, my eyes calm and steady. Everybody always said that your life flashes before your eyes in situations like these, but mine didn't. There was only the deluge of regrets, an endless parade of them. Teasing Liam to death. Hurting Julie. Forcing my parents into a life of running. Getting branded a sex offender, carved up like a museum sculpture, and thrown in jail.

The regrets ebbed. All that was left was my relentless guilt, and if there was a merciful God, that was about to end. I watched Murphy's fingers with dread or maybe anticipation, I wasn't sure. His thumb released the safety. His index finger slowly moved for the trigger.

No!
Kenny screamed.

Kenny. It's done. I lifted my head, found him sitting opposite me, his face screwed up as he sobbed, looking every bit the petrified little boy I used to be.

No! Please! I'm scared.

I know. Kenny, I have to tell you something. Look at me. I have to tell you something before he—I gulped hard. Kenny swiped at the tears falling from his eyes—our eyes. I said the words I needed to hear.

It's okay, Kenny. It'll be okay. I forgive you. You have to believe it. I'm sorry.

He gasped, and I swear I heard him out loud.

He nodded once.
Will
it…hurt?
he whispered.

I shook my head. Only for a second. Don't be scared. Sing. It will help.

Liar
. He managed his trademark smirk for a second, and I had to smile, and then he started singing “Zzyzx Rd.,” my favorite Stone Sour song.

Suddenly, he was right there with me, arms wrapped around me, crying, and I didn't just sense him, I
felt
him—felt him as real and as solid as the sand under me. My arms circled him as he sang.

“Daddy!”

Julie?

My dead heart restarted. Kenny's astonished face lifted.

“Julie, get out of here!” Murphy shouted.

“No, you can't do this, Daddy. I won't let you.”

With her eyes pinned to mine, she stepped between her father's gun and the convicted sex offender who'd bullied her brother to death.

“What the hell are you doing?” I struggled to my feet, moved to her, but the words came from the three of us—her father, Kenny, and me, the notes of disbelief distinguished only by what prompted the question. Fury from her father, shock from me, total elation from Kenny.

“Don't talk to her. Don't even look at her!” Murphy dragged Julie out of his way so he could backhand me with the gun. I hit the sand, my face exploding, ears ringing with Julie's scream.

“Stop, Daddy! Leave him alone!” She fell to her knees in front of me, brushed the hair from my eyes, and I moaned.

“Julie, get the hell out of here!” I spit the words out, bloodied the sand.

“No, I'm not going anywhere,” Julie said. “Daddy. Daddy, listen to me. This is wrong. I know his heart, and it's good. It's so good.”

And my heart gave such a leap at her words that it nearly cracked another rib.

“Liam would be so ashamed of you.”

Jack Murphy staggered back a step, lowered the gun.

“Julie, I…I'm doing this for him, for us.” His face twisted.

“No!” she screamed. “You're doing this for yourself. It's always been about you. Mom, Christine, me…we didn't matter! We never did. You married Erica, and even she wasn't enough. All you cared about was having a son, but he's gone now. You can't bring him back.”

The gun swung my way again. “Because of him!”

The line in her forehead deepened when she shook her head. “No, not just him. All of us let Liam down, Daddy. All of us. Me. Even you.”

“I loved him!” Murphy thumped his chest. “Just like I loved you.”

Julie's face crumpled. “You left. You got yourself another baby to love.”

Murphy swiped a hand across his nose. “No. No, baby. I always loved you. Always.”

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