Bad Decisions

Distant memories

Kassie



The sound of the door slamming behind Micah echoed through the silenced room, leaving me gaping at the door. I was fuming. He really thought he could just storm off in order to avoid telling me what happened?

What a d***k.

Blondie cleared his throat.

“Well, that was a bit rude,” Heath said. “Is he always that rough around the edges?”

I turned my glare towards him. Manners weren’t my strong suit and I had to remind myself that this man had just helped us. I swallowed my natural instinct to snap back defensively. I wanted to tell him to go screw himself.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I muttered instead.

A smile spread across his face. “No offense.” It was like he had heard my thoughts.

Then I said something I rarely said.

“Thanks. For helping him, us, I mean. I know he’s hard-headed and difficult, but I know he’s appreciative, too.”

“Anything for Jaz’s kid.”

“Jaz…you knew my dad?”

He looked hurt. “You still don’t remember me at all, do you?”

I stared at him for a few long seconds, actively trying to remember.

Heath, Heath, Heath. I know I should remember.

And then it hit me.

I let out a small gasp. “Uncle Heath!” I exclaimed. I ran to him and threw my arms around him. I couldn’t help it. Even though it had been so long ago, and the memory was so hazy, seeing him brought joy in me that I hadn’t felt for a long time.

It was the closest thing to my dad that I had come across in years.

He smiled down at me, bigger than before. “That’s the reaction I was looking for.” He hugged me back for a moment before stepping back and looking at me, his arms on either of my shoulders.

Heath wasn’t really my uncle. He had been my father’s best friend, his most trusted companion. But most importantly he had been my plaything.

I used to make Heath play dress up with me. I would put him in my mother’s dresses that really didn’t fit him and do his makeup terribly. There was one time I tried to stab an earring into his ear- it only went in halfway. After that he made me promise no jewelry but still allowed me to dress him up.

I had never been girly. I didn’t wear dresses or makeup or any jewelry growing up. I was a rough and tough tomboy who enjoyed fighting and rolling in the dirt. I just found it funny making a grown man pretty.

I guess I was always an as.shole.

I could tell he wanted to spend time catching up, and as much as I would love to, I was itching to find Micah and make sure he was okay.

Mostly get details on what the f***k happened to him while he was missing.

“Go on and check on your friend. We’ll talk later.” I did a slight head nod and turned around to start walking out the door. “Just a suggestion, but you might want to go and change into something a little…less revealing. That’s something that will drive even the sanest man off his rocker. Even someone as calm and collected as your friend.”

I looked back at him for a second, taking in his wicked grin and eyes that held a knowing humor. Just what was this guy getting at?

I marched out without another comment and went back to the room I had awoken in.

Back in the room, I looked at my reflection in the full-length mirror that was on the back of the door. If only I had noticed the mirror beforehand, I would’ve fully noted the extent of what I looked like.

I looked like I had one hell of a night, first of all. My long wavy hair was knotted and sticking up in places in ways I couldn’t understand how it was possible. My face was no better. My nose was bruised and swollen. Not terribly, but at that sort of yellow-ish phase before it starts fading away.

I healed relatively quickly, not nearly as fast as Micah, but in another day or so it should be back to normal.

But worst of all was the small provocative nightgown I had on. It wasn’t see-through but it might as well have been. It clung to all the right places, or in this case, all the wrong places, and left very little to the imagination. It stopped very short and left my legs exposed and cold.

Ugh. I rolled my eyes.

A dull ache formed between my eyes. I needed a damn drink.

I raided the room for my clothes, now that I wasn’t rushing, and quickly found my leather jacket hanging in the far corner of the closet but no sign of my boots anywhere.

I reached into the pocket of the jacket and was pleasantly surprised when my hand wrapped around a thin metal container.

It’s still there!

I pulled out my flask and took a sip before returning to my search. I opened drawer after drawer trying to find the clothes I had been wearing before. I didn’t find them, but instead found a wide variety of different clothes. Not sure who they belonged to, but they happened to be my size.

And completely my style.

I slid on a pair of black leggings with a flowy dark red t-shirt that had a large upside down triangle shape cut out that stopped just short of my cleavage. I grabbed a pair of long socks that matched and threw on my jacket.

I did my best to tame the wild black and red waves of hair that cascaded down my back and shoulders before heading back downstairs to find Heath. He was sure to know where my boots were.

I was in the living room when a voice behind me said, “Looking for something?”

I whipped around, surprised by the sudden voice.

It was a girl, probably an inch or two taller than me with long white-blonde hair that was braided neatly behind her. Her eyes were a chilling cloudy light blue.

I was fairly certain by looking at her, with the distant look in her eyes, that she was blind. And, of course, me being the id.iot I was, I waved my hand in front of her face to prove my theory.

My eyes widened and my breath caught when she grabbed my hand.

“Is that really how you greet people?” her voice was soft, almost calming. Her fingers from her other hand glided up until she touched the scars on my arm from the night of my parents' murder.

“Kassandra,” the girl said, her voice just like a soft sigh, her eyes half-lidded. I stood frozen for just a split second, completely taken off guard and, to be completely honest, a bit freaked the hell out. I ripped my arm away and held it to my body defensively.

Heath walked up from behind her, wrapped his long, lean arms around her.

“Oh good. I see you two have met.”

I wasn’t so sure if this is what you would call a meeting. I nodded anyway, still stunned silent by the abruptness of this girl.

She tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled. “Not entirely. Kassie, I’m Crystal, Heath’s wife.” She held out her small hand for me to shake.

I wasn’t falling for that. I’d keep my hands to myself.

“I’m just looking--”

“Your boots? They’re in the closet by the front door in the foyer,” Crystal said. My eyes glanced at Heath, and he had that same knowing smile etched on his face.

“...Thanks,” I said shortly, before turning on my heel and going towards the nearest door only to find it was a bathroom. I turned the other way, to a door on the right and opened it, exposing the foyer. When I stepped through, I let the door close loudly behind me, causing a loud bang and the walls to shake.

I heard the couple laughing at my expense, and I almost marched right back in there to give them my two-cents, but I expelled my breath and opened the closet and found my boots.

I put on the worn out boots, laced them tight and wrapped the laces around once or twice before tying since they were too long. There’s nothing in the world that I liked better than my boots. Especially because of the hidden compartment for my trusty knives.

I slammed the front door behind me once again. I was irked as I walked down the stairs of the creaky patio. I felt mocked and all I wanted to do was smack someone. But yet when the breeze picked up, blowing my hair all around me, it didn’t take long for that to fade to the back of my mind.

I was stunned by the sheer beauty the outside greeted me with. Beautiful tall trees covered with lush green leaves. The air felt fresh and clean and was cool. The sun beat down, warming what the air threatened to cool.

Growing up, we had nothing like this. The sky was always angry, the air always thick and dreary, any sort of greenery was dried out and long since dead. And to top it all off, everybody around fuc.king sucked.

I shook the thoughts out of my mind and focused on trying to find my friend.

Micah probably didn’t want to be found, but hiding from me was next to impossible. I knew him better than anybody probably ever has known anyone. I’ve been by his side day in and day out. Up until the last few weeks, we only had maybe a day or two apart when something happened. Like the time Micah got himself arrested. But that was a long story.

I found Micah exactly where I thought I would; up high and far away from everyone else. He had his knee bent, propping up his arm and his other leg hanging over the cliff.

“Hey, M.” I sat down next to him, crossing my legs under me. I refused to dangle my legs over the edge when I saw the bright blue sea below.

He glanced at me, flashing a small smile.

He seemed distant.

“You okay?” I bumped into him gently with my shoulder.

“This place is nostalgic.”

“It is?”

“Reminds me of home,” he paused briefly before clarifying. “Where I was born.”

Micah had a tinge of an accent that didn’t normally surface except at times like this; when he was talking soft. It was hard to pinpoint. He always worked hard to hide who he really was, even from me. There was little that I knew about him from before we met and what I did know I had deduced for myself.

His voice was soft, a lull, as he talked about fond memories. “It was just like this. So alive. The air so fresh.” He closed his eyes and enjoyed it as a strong breeze blew. “Mom used to take us down to the river to play every day.”

The thought of Momma Micah was so far-fetched to me, but I was afraid to ask questions and make him shut me out. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know where they were from. I wanted to know what she looked like, what she was like. I wanted to know about him. But I knew better.

“It was so beautiful, Kass. So fuc.king beautiful. Just like this. I wish I could take you to see it.” There was longing in his eyes, making them seem like lighter charcoal than the usual deep black.

“Why can’t we?”

The excitement and longing burned out of his eyes instantly, as he hung his head forward, his hair covering his expression from me.

“It doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Oh.”

I was instantly sorry I asked. I needed to switch the subject.

“Your hair has already gotten long. I’m going to have to cut it soon.” I grabbed his hair between my fingers, moving it out of his face. From what I caught of his face in the process, it was expressionless, blank.

Unexpectedly, he reached across for my hand further from him and pulled me close to him, his face now only inches from mine. With his other hand, he brushed my blowing hair behind my ear.

It was an odd move for Micah.

It was almost as if—Nope, I had to stop that thought before it could fully form.

“Kassie,” his voice was a simple sigh.

He released my hand and he brushed against my pocket as he pulled his hand away. It wasn’t until he stood up that I realized what he was up to.

My hand flew to my now empty pocket, even as I watched as he opened my flask and brought it to his nose to smell. He scrunched his nose but took a sip. He made a revolted face.

I jumped up. Looking down at me, he lifted his arm above his head as I tried to reach for it.

“Seriously, Kassandra,” he said in a disapproving tone. “Getting shot wasn’t enough to get you to stop drinking?”

On my tip toes, I wiggled my fingers, hoping to reach the flask, despite my much smaller stature to Micah’s.

“No,” I said as I lost balance as I tried to reach. Luckily, I fell against Micah. Still I tried to reach, my body tightly pressed against him, hoping that I could just get my fingers on the metal. I would climb him if I needed to.

He smirked down at me, before he wrapped his loose arm tightly around me, so I couldn’t move. I didn’t stand a chance. He was much stronger than me.

I knew exactly what he was going to do before he did it. He threw his head back and took a quick swig before I could wiggle free. And just to torture me, he dumped the rest on ground.

“Micah!” I gasped.

“You had it coming, Kassandra. I’m done. The next time you get me shot, you’re going to regret it.” His eyes were dark again, and dangerous.

And he meant every word of it.