Page 33 of Blood Ties

Kai

I head back to the basement the next day, just like I promised.

I’ve been thinking about the story ever since last night; when I tell Riley that, she smiles, which makes my stomach flip.

It’s hard to concentrate on things like letters and words when she’s so close to me, her soft skin brushing against mine, the smell of her hair filling my nose with every breath.

But I do my best in the hope it will make her smile again.

Momma did teach me a little when I was young, so some of what Riley tells me is familiar. But it’s been a long time, and I make a lot of dumb mistakes, tripping over sounds and mixing up letters that I know should be easy.

But Riley is patient. And when she sees me getting frustrated, she tells me to just listen to her reading for a while.

I love the sound of her voice more than I love the story, but both are nice.

Relaxing. I can see why she called this an escape.

It’s nice to imagine the fantasy — both the story in the book, and the fiction of being normal with her.

It makes the world outside of the basement fall away for a little while.

Weeks drift by. I go down to the basement as often as I can. On the nights I can’t get away from my chores, sometimes I see Knox slip past me on his way there. It makes my blood boil, but I grit my teeth and carry on; I know our agreement, and I know what Dad will do if I make any trouble about it.

At least he doesn’t leave any more bruises on her. Not as far as I can see. I check every time I go down to the basement the night after he does.

Riley is always quiet on those evenings. She never smiles. Sometimes she asks if we can stop reading early. It gnaws at me, just like every time I hear that chain clank against the concrete floor when she turns a page.

Of course I think about setting her free.

Sometimes I daydream about it when I’m supposed to be listening.

But every time I walk back up the stairs to Dad yelling about dinner and Uncle Frank cleaning his gun and Knox smirking at me like he knows exactly what’s got my head in the clouds.

I go up to the attic to talk to Momma and feed her, and I know that freeing Riley is a fantasy.

It’s no more real than the wardrobe in the book, and the world outside of this house might as well be Narnia.

So I’m glad we get these moments to escape.

One day, when I finish my chores early and have dinner simmering on the stove, I bring my stereo down to her.

Her eyes light up when she sees it. “Music,” she says. “I haven’t heard music since...” She pauses, stutters for a moment.

I know what she means because it’s the same for me. The last time I played anything was the first night we met, when I was trying to drown out the sound of her and Knox next door.

My face twists, and I turn away from her as I plug the stereo into the wall. “My dad hates the noise,” I say. “But he’s not home yet.”

Still, I keep it quiet, so I can hear if he comes through the door.

Riley and I sit next to each other on her mattress as Radiohead starts to play.

After a minute, she rests her head on my shoulder.

After another minute, I work up the courage to put my arm around her.

We stay like that, listening together, and I feel so happy that it scares me.

Everything that makes me happy gets taken away before long.

“Is this your favorite album?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s also the only one I’ve got right now. Sorry. Knox hasn’t brought me any new ones since my dad smashed the rest of them a while ago.”

“Oh,” she says. “Knox... brings you things?”

“Sometimes. This one was a birthday present a couple years ago.”

She’s pressed so close against me that I can feel her breath hitch as she hesitates. “Are you two close?”

“Mm...” I’m not sure how to answer. “I don’t really have much to compare to.

But he’s...” I roll the words around in my head before I speak them, feeling like I’m stepping into a minefield.

I don’t want to defend my brother to her, but I don’t want to lie.

The truth is that Knox is all I had after Momma got sick.

Until I met Riley, at least. “He’s nicer to me than my dad and my uncle are. Usually.”

She pulls back to look at me. I tense, thinking I said something wrong, but her eyes are gentle as she reaches up to cup my face. “The way he treats you still isn’t right,” she says. “You deserve better. You know that, don’t you?”

I study her face, unsure how to respond again. Before I can figure it out, she kisses me. The softest press of her lips, there and gone again.

“You deserve better,” she whispers, once more.

I lean in, and she meets me, kisses me again.

My pulse is loud in my ears. I haven’t tried anything with her since Knox took her birth control. I didn’t want to pressure her, or to think about what my brother has been doing to her. But I’ve wanted her every day, and I can’t stop myself from giving in now.

I’m drowning in her honey taste, her feather soft touch.

Her fingers in my hair, her breath against my lips, and so much smooth skin it makes me dizzy.

She’s as delicate as an eggshell in my hands; I’m afraid I could hurt her on accident.

Then her tongue slides into my mouth and it’s hard to think of that, or anything.

I grip her hips hard and she makes a breathy little sound that tells me she likes it.

She slides her hand into my pants and wraps her fist around my cock.

I’m already getting hard for her, and after a couple of strokes I’m panting into her neck, thrusting up into her hand.

I push her shirt up, exposing the lush curve of her breasts, and she leans her head back with a sigh as I cup them.

She feels so fucking good, so soft in my hands, her nipples hardening as I squeeze her.

Riley lies back on the mattress, tugging me with her.

I kiss her while she pushes my pants and my boxers down.

After a moment’s hesitation, I reach between us to undo her shorts; she helps me ease them off.

Then there’s only the thin lace of her panties between our bodies.

I’m so fucking hard, my blood roaring in my veins.

Her legs wrap around my waist. I rut against her, my cock sliding over her waistband and her stomach.

She’s so warm and soft and I know it’d feel even better to be inside of her. I crave it so badly it hurts.

“God, I want you,” she whispers in my ear, and I bite back a groan. I reach for her panties, but she grabs my hand, twining her fingers with mine. “But...” She lets out a long breath, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “Without my birth control... I...”

I bite the inside of my cheek, try to regain control of myself as I realize she’s trembling beneath me. “Right. I know.”

She reaches up to touch my face, smiling. “But there’s still a lot of fun stuff we could do.”

My breath quickens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her hand slides down my neck, over my chest, my stomach. I’m still rocking against her gently, rubbing against her panties, and it feels so good I don’t realize what she intends until she’s pulling my shirt up.

I flinch, recoiling, and tug it back down.

Riley goes still. She stares up at me, eyebrows pinched together, as I sit back on my heels. I yank my pants up, face hot with shame. I’m no longer in the mood, and I’m sure she isn’t, either, after seeing my body.

“Those scars...” she says.

I flush harder, looking away. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” She sits up, shifting closer to me on her knees. “Can I see?” I hesitate, and she touches my face, guiding my gaze to hers. “It’s okay, Kai. Please.”

I hesitate, searching her face. My hand shakes as I pull my shirt up to show her. Nobody but me has seen this ugly truth: my pale stomach, dotted all over by the angry red of cigarette burns. Some are years old, others fresh and raw. All of them overlapping in a tapestry of pain.

Riley sucks in a breath. “What... what did this?” She brushes her fingertips over my scarred skin, oh so gently, and my entire body tenses. “Cigarettes?” I nod, and her gaze softens. “I’m so sorry.”

I let my shirt drop. I’m sure she doesn’t want to look anymore; I can barely stand to see it myself, the ruin I’ve made of my skin.

Riley leans in close, presses her forehead to mine and cups the back of my head. “Who did this to you?” she murmurs. “Your dad? Your uncle?”

I shake my head, unable to speak.

A sharp intake of breath. “Knox...?”

“No.” I swallow hard. “I... did it. I do it. To myself.”

“Oh, Kai,” she whispers.

“Sometimes I just can’t stand it.” I’m unable to stop the words from pouring out, things I’ve never told anyone, not even Momma.

“I feel so angry — at my Dad and Knox and at myself, and it feels like I’m drowning in it.

Like it’s filling my lungs. And I don’t know what to do, so I do.

.. that. It makes me feel better, somehow. ”

Riley wraps her arms around me and holds me. She doesn’t say anything for a long time, until finally she whispers: “Please don’t hurt yourself again, Kai. If you feel that way, you can come to me. You can rely on me. Okay? I’m here.” She looks up at me. “Promise me. Please.”

I stare down at her, struck by the weight of all the emotions I feel. I’ve never told anyone any of this. And nobody’s ever looked at me like that . “Okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”

*

A T DINNER, I PUSH FOOD around my plate, saving what I can for Riley. Thinking about nothing but her. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel for her, a bone-deep need to be close, so intense it makes me a bit sick sometimes.

Dad always goes on and on about family being the most important thing, but I’ve never felt anything like this for them.

Nor have any of them treated me as kindly as Riley does.

Except for Momma, I mean, but it’s been a long time since she was really here .

The rest of them... do they even care about me? Did they ever?

I look around the table. Frank is hunched over his plate shoveling food into his mouth, and he lets out a sound like a growl when he catches me looking. I don’t know if he’s capable of caring about anybody, though he follows Dad around like a loyal dog.

Dad’s on some rant about the government stealing his hard-earned money, and I don’t dare look at him for long and risk gaining his attention when he’s in one of his moods. I feel like he only notices me when I do something wrong.

And Knox... I steal glances at Knox as he eats, his mouth curled up in amusement at our father’s anger. He catches me looking and quirks a brow like we’re sharing a joke. He always notices me, especially when I don’t want him to.

Knox cares about me, I think. But his love always feels sharp around the edges, liable to cut you if you’re not careful. Maybe that’s the only kind of love he knows, the kind that’s also painful.

I break away from his gaze and stare at my plate. I think about him, and about Riley, and about Dad’s rant. And even though it makes my stomach knot, I know what I have to do.

*

K NOX FINDS ME BEFORE I find him. When I head to the basement to bring Riley the remains of my dinner, he’s leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, waiting for me.

“You’ve sure been going down there a lot,” he says. “You get it done yet or what?”

I stop. Look straight at him. “Knox.”

He arches a brow. “Yeah?”

“If you hurt her again,” I say, “I’ll tell Dad about the money you’re hiding.”

He stiffens, his smile going frigid. “What?”

“You heard me. Stay away from her.”

He just stares at me for a second. I hope he doesn’t suspect how hard my heart is pounding, the way my stomach is rolling with anxiety.

I really don’t want to go through with the threat. Dad might like Knox more than me, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt him. That scar on his face is a testament to that. But I need to do something to keep Riley safe.

“Fine,” Knox bites out. “Understood, kiddo.”

I let out a breath, and nod at him before brushing past him to unlock the basement door. As I pass by, I hear him mutter, “Hope you know what you’re fuckin’ doing.”