Thin Love(125)

Everything happened in a blur—Ricky’s gun pointed back at Kona, cursing and loud, angry threats shouted, then, the blast of the gun against the screech of sirens and Keira’s scream, deafening and surreal to her own ears. She saw everything happen at once—Luka twisting forward, pushing Kona away, the glint of the gun from the street light and then Kona turning toward Keira as that loud shot rang out, vibrating in Keira’s ears.

And then she was falling, Kona on top of her, his chest against her face, his arms curled around her head. And time sped up with the sound of Ricky’s running feet and then the high burn of the Mustang’s tires squealing away on the pavement.

Keira registered Kona lifting off of her, pulling her to her feet, his hands racing over her body, his arms pulling her to his chest.

“You’re okay, Wildcat. Oh thank God. Thank God.” His hands shook has he held her against his chest.

She felt his back, broke free from his arm to skim her hands over his chest, only exhaling when she realized he hadn’t been hurt either. “You either. Oh God…”

“Lu, what about you?” Kona shifted, gaze rapid and around the street until he found his twin, lying on his back.

The bad kept coming.

“Luka!! No, no, fuck no!” Kona ran to his brother, fell to his knees at his Luka’s side, pulling on his coat to slide the large body in his lap. Blood rushed from the center of Luka’s stomach and his breath came out ragged, clotted behind the gurgle in his lungs. But Kona didn’t notice that; he didn’t seem to see anything but his brother’s hand reaching for him and those black eyes moving over Kona’s face. “Lu, come on man. We’ve got to go.”

“Kona?” Luka’s voice was weak and Keira heard the struggle behind his words, how his twin’s name came out with effort. “It burns, brah. It burns so bad.”

Keira scrambled to Luka’s other side as the sirens in the distance grew louder, sharper. When Kona kissed his brother’s forehead, when he held his limp hand, tears collected and fell down Keira’s face.

“We’ll get you help, kaikua’ana. I’ll get… help…” That gurgle in Luka’s throat went silent and Kona’s body stiffened as he lowered over his twin, sobbing. “No, Luka. We have to get our rings first.” He shook his twin, chin trembling as Kona pulled Luka closer to his chest. “Lu, come on. Lu?”

“Kona…” Keira tried, but Kona went on crying over his brother, pulling on his shoulder, trying to get him to sit up.

“Fuck this. No! We’ve got to get you to a doctor. Come on, brah.” Kona struggled with Luka’s weight as he staggered to his feet, grunting through his teeth before he caught Keira’s eyes. “Baby please help me! Help me get him to the hospital.”

But Keira knew. She knew, even as she pulled Luka’s heavy arm over her shoulder, even as she helped Kona frantically drag his brother’s body to her car, even as she flinched from the blood staining the cream leather of her backseat, that Luka was already gone.

Kona sped down the street, his sobs fractured between prayers he said aloud and profanities he shouted. Keira held Luka upright when Kona took a hard right. Her hands slipped in the blood as she tried to fasten Luka’s seatbelt. She stayed with him, hoping she could see his chest moving, hoping that the still, fixed stare would shift, move. She prayed for a blink, for a cough, anything that would have Luka waking up, but nothing came.

“It’s okay, man. We’re almost there. University’s down the way. We’re good, Lu. We’ll be good.” Kona kept looking behind him, eyes on his brother, glimpses at Keira as he thundered down the street. “Fuck! FUCK!” He slammed his fist into her console, shattering the radio until bits of silver plastic stuck into his knuckles.

“Kona, you have to slow down. Please, bebe.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you listen? Why didn’t you stay home? Why did you call him?” The fear and despair clotted Kona’s words, had her hands shaking, her legs twitching; the horror of guilt, of knowing she’d caused this, coiled deep, burned her stomach.

“I was scared. He was scared.” Dread, shame, mind-numbing fear all worked in Keira’s chest; there was too much sensation—the cold drip of Luka’s blood on her hand, the scream of sirens behind them as they flew faster and faster down the street, Kona’s curses, his angry words shouted at Keira and she couldn’t take it, couldn’t sort all that noise, all that fear in her mind. She couldn’t stop her eyes from burning or the hot track of her tears from coursing down her face.