Page 38 of Kings Don't Break

“He beat you bloody!” I snap, my temper slipping loose. I stride from the kitchen counter where I stand toward her. “What more could there be to it than that? There is no gray area—the guy deserves to have his head bashed in! He’ll be lucky if he makes it into next week without me making it happen!”

Korine closes her eyes—or tries to. One’s too swollen. “I’m married, Blake.”

“So you divorce his ass!”

“I have nothing. I am…”

For a second, as Korine’s voice breaks and her lip quivers, I’m certain of the disturbing word she was about to use to finish that sentence. She seems to catch herself, sucking in some air, and wiping at her eye with the back of a hand.

“It doesn’t matter. Because I’m not getting you involved.”

“Too late. If you think I’m going to drop this, you must’ve forgotten who I am in the ten years since you’ve left.”

“Can we not argue? Please… I just… I’m…” she trails off as if losing any resolve to finish.

I see it clear as day. The hurt and pain that’s swallowed her up. It’s so strong, it’s worn like a second skin.

How didn’t I see it before? How hadn’t I noticed it the afternoon on the side of the highway or that morning in the parking lot?

Of course Korine’s been behaving the way she has—she’s been broken. The woman standing before me is a shell of her former self. Her sarcastic personality, the one that often had me laughing along with her, has been snuffed out. Her spunk and sass stomped out. Her spirit so destroyed she was about to call herself nothing.

It all makes my fucking heart ache. It makes me angry with myself for not figuring it out sooner.

Somehow. Someway.

Pushing harder the day I saw her limping.

“You need rest,” I say, my voice strained and gritty. “I’ve got a few extra blankets and pillows. The sofa’s more comfortable than it looks.”

“But where will you sleep?”

“I’ll manage fine. I don’t need much sleep.” I grab onto her hand as I pass her up walking out the kitchen.

Korine protests a couple more times as I set up the sofa into a makeshift bed. Once the pillow and blanket are out, she seems to lose any urge to fight me on it. Dropping down onto one of the cushions, she releases a deep sigh.

“I’m really sorry for bringing this to your doorstep,” she says. “I was driving around Pulsboro in the dark and… and I knew I couldn’t go to the police. And if I drove out of town, I’d be driving nowhere. So… I drove here. Without even realizing it.”

“Don’t be sorry. You don’t ever gotta apologize for seeking me out, Kori. Remember what you told me all those years back?” I join her on the sofa, claiming the spot next to her, and putting my arm around her in a side hug. “You said I never had to be embarrassed. You said you’d always help.”

A small sliver of a nostalgic smile touches her lips. “I was just saying what would make you feel better. You boys always got weird about crying. Even weirder if a girl saw you.”

I laugh. “My rep was at stake. Nothing was more pathetic than being a wuss crying ’cuz I fell off my bike and skinned my knee.”

“That wasn’t always why you were crying.”

“You were there for me just the same,” I say, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “That bedroom window of yours was always open. Don’t know where else I would’ve gone to escape Bill’s fists.”

I’m trying to keep my tone easy, though Korine’s not fooled. Her hand falls into my lap to give my thigh a squeeze of her own.

“How are you, Blake? How’s Bill? I heard about the accident.”

“Bill’s where he is. I’m where I am. We tend not to mix. For good reason, I’d say.”

She blows out a breath. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Life?” I give a shrug. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“How’s the club? You’re officially a member?”