Broken by Travis Thrasher Page A

get in.”
    Inside, after cleaning up in the bathroom, Kyle leans against the kitchen counter and says it again. “We need to call the
     cops.”
    “No.” Laila has been in action mode, helping Kyle wash his face and stop the bleeding and also giving him one of her T-shirts
     while she’s soaking his bloodstained shirt in the sink.
    “Laila, just listen to me for a minute.”
    “I’m listening.”
    “Then stop running around.”
    She pauses and breathes in and doesn’t want to tell him the truth.
    All of this will hit her eventually if she slows down long enough to think about it.
    “Listen—if he did this to me—someone he doesn’t even know—what in the world is he going to do to you?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Who is he, Laila? And why did he do it?”
    “Let me see if I can find you another T-shirt. That one looks too tight on you.”
    “Stop—please.”
    She turns and looks at him. She can see it all over his face, and she hates herself because she’s the reason the fear is there.
    “I’m sorry that you had to get involved.”
    “Involved in what?” Kyle asks, the swath of paper towels filled with ice pressed against his temple.
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “Not even after this?”
    “Kyle—just—you have to leave me be. Okay?”
    “Leave you to what?”
    She sighs.
    “Leave you to what?”
    “This will all be over very soon.”
    “And what’s that mean?”
    She doesn’t answer.
    “He told me this is just a little ‘taste’ of what’s to come if you don’t help him out. Where’s your family?”
    “I told you—they’re in Texas.”
    “If I were you, I’d call them.”
    “You’re not me, and you don’t understand. And I’m sorry to have involved you in any way, I really am. I just—I can’t say anything
     more.”
    “I almost got killed out there,” he says.
    “That was not my fault. I didn’t do it.”
    “You can at least tell me why.”
    She curses. “I’m not going to tell you, so you can stop asking. And all this will be out of your hair in just a short while,
     and then you can do whatever you want.”
    “I’m just trying to help.”
    “Well look where that got you.”
    He goes to say something but then pauses. She can tell his left eye is swelling. For a moment she feels protective, and all
     she wants to do is hug him and tell him it’s going to be okay. But that would be a lie.
    “Did he say anything else?” Laila asks.
    “No.”
    She stands there looking at Kyle. Light seeps in from the window and makes lines over the floor. A bird on her deck is singing
     away.
    It’s just another day.
    She looks at his bruised face.
    “I’m not responsible for you,” she says.
    “I never said you were.”
    “Okay.”
    “But give me a little more responsibility. Let me help you, Laila. Please. I don’t want anything—I don’t want this—to happen
     to you.”
    “It already did and it’s already done and there’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing anybody can do.”
    “We can get help.”
    “Help isn’t going to come, and believe me—just please, believe me. And get it out of your head. You and I both know that if
     I wasn’t some chick you wouldn’t be so obliging and helpful.”
    He shakes his head. “That’s unfair.”
    “It’s true, and you know it. So you need to take that big, kind heart of yours and spend it on some other girl who surely
     deserves it. Okay?”
    Kyle puts the ice in the kitchen sink, and he cleans his hands again. He glances at her, waits to see if she’s going to say
     anything, then he opens the door and leaves.
    •   •   •
    “You need something to drink, honey?”
    It’s been a while since somebody called Lex that. “Just a Coke.”
    “That really all you want?” the waitress asks him.
    “That’s all I better have.”
    “What about something to eat?”
    “I’m still debatin’. Let me keep the menu.”
    Lex notes the Budweiser logo on the wall and thinks about how long it’s been. That’s what