The Token 7: Thorn (A Token Novel) by Marata Eros Page A

of pain releases and becomes warm.
    I pull her over the corpse and into my arms.
    I want to cry for the first time since I was that eight-year-old boy watching my natural father beat my drugged mother.
    Then Simone does, and I don't have to.
    She cries for us both.
    “ Thorn's here,” I say softly, holding her against me and folding all that kinky black hair into my fist as though it's a rope that tethers us.
    It's so soft in my hand.

14
    Simone
     
    I'm so full of shame I think it leaks onto Thorn.
    I can't stop holding his hand.
    He hasn't let go of me since he pulled me out of that shithole.
    Thorn scooped up my duffel bag and dragged me out of my bedroom.
    When I hesitated over the glass on the kitchen floor, he tucked me under his arm like a football and carried me as if I weighed nothing.
    I held onto his arm as he did, and closed my eyes, pressing my head into his side. He set me down carefully and, without a word, hauled me up the stairs of my apartment.
    He slings the duffel one-handed into the tiny trunk of his red sports car and goes to his side.
    I still can’t let him go.
    “Hey, baby,” he says in French.
    I cry harder.
    “Okay, okay. Come 'ere.”
    Football again.
    When we get to his side, he folds me into his car. I scoot across the seat. He looks at our linked hands and shuts the door with his left. Depressing the clutch, he shifts with my hand tied with his.
    Somehow, we get to Kiki’s in one piece.
     
    *
     
    A chain rattles then the door tears open. The air from the velocity of the door swinging causes Kiki’s hair to lift.
    “What on God's green earth?” She takes in the disaster of our clothes, our faces.
    “Kik,” Thorn prompts.
    She does a little jump. “No problem, guys, come right in. Kiki takes all comers, ne’er do wells, stray cats...”
    “Kiki, shut up.” He sounds tired.
    Kiki whacks Thorn on the back of the head. “No. Be nice or leave.”
    Thorn turns on a dime, looming over Kiki, and I think they'll come to blows.
    Kiki drives her finger into his chest. “I'm sorry that you’re glued to Simone and pissed about it.”
    My stomach drops at her words.
    “And that some French dude is sniffing around your girl.”
    His girl. A flutter of excitement develops where churning was.
    “But! That doesn't”—poke—“give ya the right”—stab—“to treat Kiki like shit!”
    Thorn looks at our laced hands, and I let him go.
    He grabs me and shoves my body against his.
    I hide my smile against the flat planes of his chest.
    Thorn sighs, absently stroking my hair. “I'm sorry, Kik. It's been a day.”
    Kiki vigorously nods. “Yeah, first Chet then that weirdo Shepard...”
    Thorn puts a finger under my chin. “We gotta talk.”
    I knew this would come.
    I shake my head, taking a deep breath. “Anything I say will put you in jeopardy.”
    Kiki rolls her eyes. “Jesus, ya assholes, I kinda want to know what the hell you're saying.”
    I feel my face grow hot.
    “I'm sorry. I just... When I get stressed out, English doesn't come first.”
    “What did you say?” Kiki asks.
    I glance at Thorn then at her. “I don't want to be responsible for your life.”
    “ Moi ?” Kiki asks. Thorn and I cringe. She makes a face at our expressions. “Piss off, elitists.”
    I watch the fine wheels of her mind turn. Her eyes flick to Thorn, then gravitate to mine. “You mean my death?”
    I nod.
    “Well—fuck me.”
    “Yes,” I agree.
    “I need to get my drunk on to deal with these revelations,” Kiki says, moving into the kitchen.
    Clanking and muttering, including the occasional colorful word, reaches us.
    Thorn's lips twitch.
    “She's quite a character,” I observe.
    “Loyal as hell,” he adds.
    The way he says it makes me give him a sidelong glance.
    “Like you?”
    He turns toward me. His palm goes to his chest as though he thinks I've asked the wrong person.
    I put my hand over his. His heart beats beneath our hands.
    I nod. “Like you.”
    He stares at me for a