Page 59 of Nicki's Fight

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. “It’s obvious you didn’t tell Kaine. He was gobsmacked when I ran into him and Lee.”

Bishop started the coffee maker running and sat back down.

“I… I didn’t know what to say,” he answered.

“That’s a first!” I exclaimed, teasingly. “You are always the brother that knows the exactly right thing to say or do!”

“Not this time,” he said quietly. “Nicki, I know you had your reasons for doing what you did. I figure they have at leastsomethingto do with the tattoos on your wrists.”

I tugged the shirt down self-consciously. I wasn’t ashamed of being HIV positive anymore.I wasn’t.It wasn’t my fault. I’d done nothing to “deserve” it. It was just a disease, but whenever I saw the tattoos, I still felt the harsh grip of my father’s hands on my wrists, holding me down as the needle bit into my skin.

“I just… I want to make sure you’re okay. And that Kaine will be, too,” he said. I stared into his eyes, and for the briefest of moments I remembered the summer when Bishop, Kaine and I had gone hiking at the park. I’d been…interested… in Bishop, back then. He was gorgeous, smart, and always seemed to know so much more, be so much wiser than any other kid our age. I’d wondered, sometimes, if his class schedule had been different, if he hadn’t started taking all the fine arts classes, if it might have beenhimI’d fallen in love with instead of Kaine.

“I’m okay, now,” I insisted. “…and I want to make sure Kaine is, too. Even if he never wants to see me again, I at least want to make sure he knows I never wanted to leave him.”

Bishop and I stared at each other a few minutes longer. He seemed to be searching my face for something, some reassurance or acknowledgment. I wasn’t sure if he found what he was looking for, but after a few minutes he nodded at me.

“Okay, then,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied, holding my breath. For what, I wasn’t sure.

The ‘rents chose that moment to come back into the kitchen, laughing about the video they’d just watched.

We had just sat back down around the island counter, Bishop sipping on his first cup of coffee while the rest of us drank our bottles of water. Then we heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps in the foyer.

I didn’t even remember standing, much less heading to the living room doorway. That’s where I was when Kaine walked in the room. He was wearing a pair of track shorts and a sweat-soaked t-shirt that had a camera on the front. His shirt read “I can freeze time. What’syoursuperpower?”

I drank in the sight of him, just enjoying for a moment the opportunity to take in the way he had changed over the years. He’d gotten taller, as expected. His short brown hair had blond highlights throughout and currently clung to his sweat-covered face. His eyes were the same dark green they had always been. He looked tired, though. Not just the “I-just-ran-a-marathon” tired, but like he hadn’t been sleeping well for a long time. There were dark circles under his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead.

He was Kaine.MyKaine. Okay, well, maybe I didn’t have the right to claim him, but we’d belonged to each other. I stared into his eyes for a long time, finally forcing a hoarse greeting out.

“Kaine.” Smooth, Nicki. Real smooth.

12

Kaine

I staredinto Nicki’s eyes and noticed almost absently that they were red-rimmed and swollen. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one affected by our meeting earlier today. Well, maybe that was being egotistical. He could have allergies.

“Hi…” he whispered hoarsely.

“Hey,” I responded, trying to remember how to breathe.

Until today, I hadn’t seen Nicki for almost six years. His skin was still pale, but not the sickly pallor it had been as a teen. Probably all that Florida sunshine.

Fuck.

“I need to take a shower,” I said, turning tail and heading up the stairs.

“Kaine, wait!” I heard Bishop call after me, but I kept going.

I made it to my room and slammed the door behind me, resting my back against it. I slid to the floor, my elbows resting on my knees, my hands fisted in my hair.

What the fuck was I supposed to do?

I felt, more than heard, Bishop’s feet pounding up the stairs behind me.

He knocked softly on the door.