Page 121 of Kings Don't Break
Stricklin attempts to steady his grip on the Glock. First he aims it at me with his finger curled around the trigger as if he’s about to do it; he’s about to shoot me.
I couldn’t be less concerned. He’s no threat, even with a loaded gun. He’ll miss if he tries.
And he does.
He squeezes the trigger of the gun. But not at me.
The hatred melts from his bloodied features, morphing into a pitiful clench of sorrow amid a sudden flood of tears. He releases a strangled sound and turns the gun on himself.
The bang rings out. He slumps against the rocks, parts of his body twitching. His fingers and his eyelids. No more than twenty seconds later, the cops and emergency responders we heard in the background are pulling up.
I haven’t moved from where I stand. But I already know what to do when they arrive and fan out onto the scene.
I raise up my hands and wait for the inevitable. Handcuffs slap around my wrists as I’m pulled away…
31
KORINE
“There’s my baby,” Mama croaks with a weak smile. She’s lying in bed, dressed in a hospital gown, tubes stuck up her nose, needles piercing her arms. Over the last day and a half alone her hair’s developed twice as many grays and she’s lost some of the pleasant plumpness to her round cheeks.
Yet somehow, like always, she’s a beacon of light. She’s hope personified in every possible way.
It’s almost disorienting after so much pain and trauma. In the aftermath of what happened with Ken, I was admitted to the hospital. For the last day I’ve been heavily medicated and stuck in bed from my fractured rib (among other injuries).
Seeing Mama so hopeful reminds me there is still good in the world.
My heart aches, my eyes tearing up. “Mama… how are you feeling?”
“C’mere, baby. Gimme a hug. Don’t you dare get all sad and mopey.”
I go to her, careful with how I wrap my arms around her. She’s tender to the touch, every part of her more fragile than glass. I kiss her cheek and stroke her graying hair like she used to do to me when I was a little girl.
Her eyes twinkle. “Baby, don’t worry about me. How are you and my golden boy? Tell me he kicked that big bully’s behind.”
“Ken’s in the hospital. There was a chase that ended by the ravine. He tried to shoot himself… but it didn’t work out so well. He survived,” I say, swallowing against the sudden soreness in my throat. “Blake’s… not doing so well, Mama.”
She frowns. “Why not?”
“He’s in custody. They’re…” I shudder out a sigh, my lungs pained. “They’re going to try to throw the book at him for everything that’s happened. I just know they’re going to make him take the fall.”
“But he was defending you.”
“It doesn’t matter. Not in their eyes. They’re on Ken’s side.”
“Well… fuck them! They’re bullies too!”
“Mama…”
“Listen to me and listen to me real good, Korine,” Mama says, her tone chiding. “You can’t control what those fools are going to try to do. Just like you can’t control any other evil that comes for you. All you can do is hope and pray, because I promise you, good will prevail in the end. It always does, one way or another. Even if sometimes it takes a little while longer.”
I’ve sat down on the edge of her hospital bed, inhaling a deep breath at the same time I’m absorbing her uplifting message. That’s the thing about Mama—with her warm voice and gentle demeanor, she’s able to make the wariest pessimist see the sunshine through the clouds.
That pessimist often being me.
My gaze drops to my hands in my lap.
It hasn’t been easy looking on the bright side. Just in the last couple days, I’ve once again experienced one of the most traumatic moments of my life. Ken put Mama in the hospital. He beat me and took me captive and would’ve done more had he not been stopped. But he’s gotten his way in some fashion if Blake’s going to be criminally charged.
