Page 45 of One More Time

“Kins, I promise murder will be my last resort. I’m calling my father.”

Kinsley jerked out of my grip.

“The hell you are. I would never ask that of you—he’s just as bad as mine.”

“At least mine still wants me alive. Keeping yours in prison is the only way to ensure that you are as well. You’re my best friend, Kins. I’m not going to sit and just hope he plays the good Samaritan this time around, especially when I’m traveling so much.”

Kinsley looked at me, tears streaming down her face and I could see the war going on behind those eyes.

“Promise me you won’t put yourself on the line for this—that you won’t let him control your life as a result. I could never live with myself.”

I kissed her forehead in an attempt to appear sincere, but I couldn’t make that promise. She had done so much more for me than I had ever done for her, and if giving up my dreams was what it took to keep her safe, then that’s what I would do.

I remembered that day in our senior year when she’d first called me for help.

“Hey Kins, what’s up?”

“Hunt! He won’t stop, he won’t stop!” My best friend’s ragged sobs echoed through the line. My heart raced. In the background, distant but audible, I could hear the screams of both her parents.

“Hey, shh, shh. What’s happening?”

More sobs followed, though more muffled than before.

“Dad... he won’t stop hitting her. I’m scared, Hunt, I’m so scared.”

Adrenaline flooded my veins. I swallowed against the rising panic in my throat.

“Hold on, Kins. I’ll get help.” My feet were already moving. I went to the corded phone in the kitchen and quickly dialed 911.

“He’ll kill me if he knows I called it in, Hunt.. Oh god… Mom’s hurt.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you; I promise.”

“Hunter.”

Dad sounded surprised, and rightfully so. I never called; he was lucky if I answered when he did. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to gather the strength to say the words I never thought I would utter to my father.

“Dad, I need a favor.”

The line was silent, and I could practically hear the gears in his mind turning.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Kinsley’s father is getting out of prison early for good behavior.”

I knew I didn’t need to say more. Kinsley’s father was a lawyer as well. He worked in the same circles as my father. Though he went to prison for assault and battery, he had dirt on a lot of people—which undoubtedly got him the lowest sentence possible.

“And let me guess: you don’t want him to be released early?”

I ground my teeth. “Yes.”

My father chuckled. “I was hoping that you and the Morrison girl would be bored of each other by now, but I suppose it’s better than the alternative. Fine, I think I can work some strings to get him to finish his sentence. But you’ll owe me.”

“It needs to be more than a few years. He can’t be released—period.” I felt the nail go into my metaphorical coffin as the words left my mouth. I was selling my soul to the devil.

“Fine, but you know what this means, son.”

“I know.”

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