Two Turns

~Kyle~

The name echoed in Kyle’s head long after the night ended. Williams Thorne,. He never thought the day would come. But it had. And now, the thought of revenge hummed through his veins like poison he’d been saving for years. He would bring the Thorne’s family down, piece by piece, if he had to.

The red digits on the alarm clock blinked back at him: 12:02 a.m. Past midnight. Another sleepless night, another storm of thoughts. He dragged in a breath and let it out slowly, nodding to himself as if that would steady him. “This is for good,” he whispered into the dark.

Rising from his bed, Kael crossed the tiny room turned the lights on and moved to the rust-stained fridge right in the corner. Its hinges groaned when he pulled it open. Inside: two bottles of rum, half a pack of chocolate biscuits, and a single bottle of water. Nothing more. He sighed. Just him, in this crumbling house where things always ran out. At least Finn was dragging him out later today for groceries, clothes, whatever else Kyle wouldn’t bother buying for himself. Finn insisted, annoyingly so. Always shoving kindness in places Kyle wasn’t sure he deserved. One day, he promised himself, he’d repay him.

Funny how they’d met. It was at the city fair, some time ago. He’d been wandering, not looking for anything, when he saw the banners flapping in the breeze, the press of a crowd drawn to laughter and cheap prizes. For once, he’d stepped inside.

Children darted between legs. Vendors shouted over each other. Lights spun in dizzy colors. He stopped at a game booth, drawn by the oversized teddy bear hanging above the counter. A man behind the stand called out, “Hey, you! Come on, give it a try!” Kyle froze, unsure why he cared, but his eyes wouldn’t leave the bear. “Come on, just one throw,” the vendor urged. He reached into his pocket, handed over a crumpled note, and picked up a dart. He aimed, threw and missed. The dart clattered off the edge of the board. His chest burned with quiet frustration, foot stomping once against the wooden floor.

A chuckle broke behind him. “I’ll take it from here.” The stranger stepped forward, broad-shouldered, grin sharp enough to slice through Kyle’s irritation. He plucked up a dart and sent it whistling straight into the bullseye. The crowd around them cheered. “Ha! That’s right!” the man shouted, pumping both fists before shaking his hips in a ridiculous little victory dance. The vendor handed over the massive teddy bear, but instead of keeping it, the stranger turned and shoved it toward Kyle. Kyle blinked. “Me?” “Yup.” The grin widened. “Unless you’d rather I win you another one. Easy-peasy.” He flexed his arm, muscles straining the fabric of his sleeve, putting on a show. Kyle didn’t know it then, but that ridiculous moment would carve a place for Finn in his life. As for the oversized teddy bear? He gave it to some random kid who wouldn’t stop crying.

Kyle caught himself smiling and immediately shook his head, lowering it like he had just been caught stealing joy from a place where it didn’t belong. “Revenge… but how?” he whispered into the empty room, the word itself a dagger that twisted inside his chest. He pulled the rum from the fridge, slammed the rusty door shut, and walked back to his bed. Hovering over, he poured the liquor into a chipped glass, letting the amber liquid slosh carelessly. He took a sip, then another, until his free hand was tangled in his hair, tugging at strands as though pain would summon an answer. Sip. Sip. Sip. The room blurred.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The sound dragged him awake. Kyle groaned, fumbling for his phone. His eyes narrowed at the glowing screen. Finn. “Don’t tell me you’re still in bed,” Finn’s voice burst through, too sharp for Kyle’s groggy head. “I’m not,” Kyle muttered, though his voice betrayed the lie with a drowsy rasp. “Good. Because I’m not far from your place.” Kyle glanced at the clock. 1:37 p.m. His stomach dropped. “Shit!” He hung up immediately, scrambled out of bed, and practically tore his clothes off on his way to the bathroom. The cold water bit his skin awake. By the time pounding fists rattled his door, he was ready.

“It’s your buddy. Open up!” Kyle swung the door open to a wide, teasing grin. Finn stood there looking like a professional model, broad chest, taut muscles peeking from the sleeves of his fitted black tee, hair cropped into a neat military fade that made his jawline seem sharper, his almond-dark eyes alive with that frustrating mix of kindness and trouble. His lips curved like Cupid had sculpted them himself. “Hey, man.” Finn clapped his shoulder and pushed inside without waiting. The room suddenly felt smaller, filled with his energy. Kyle rolled his eyes, but something inside him tightened, the kind of awareness that never sat right.

They walked down the cracked pavements of the neighborhood, Finn humming some tune Kyle didn’t recognize, his arm brushing against Kyle’s every so often. It was annoyingly deliberate. Finn liked to test boundaries and Kyle hated that he didn’t pull away. They finally located the car where he parked and got into it “First stop,” Finn said, checking his phone for a local mart. “Groceries, unless you wanna keep living off rum and biscuits.” Kyle scowled. “Don’t act like you know what’s in my fridge.” “Oh, I know.” Finn smirked. “Every time I’m here, you offer water. Water, Kyle. Do you realize that’s the most depressing hospitality in existence?” Kyle’s lips twitched despite himself. “You could stop coming, you know.” “Not a chance,” Finn replied smoothly turning on the car.

Inside the mart, Kyle went straight for basics: milk, bread, biscuits. His motions were brisk, like someone completing a punishment. Finn, on the other hand, treated the mart like a playground, grabbing things, tossing them into Kyle’s basket and his, cracking jokes loud enough for strangers to smile at them. “You need protein,” Finn declared, tossing in a pack of eggs. “And fruit.” A bunch of bananas landed on top of the bread. Kyle narrowed his eyes. “I don’t even like bananas.” Finn leaned closer, his voice dropping low, “That’s because you’ve never had them the right way.” Kyle froze, staring. Finn smirked, devilish, teasing, leaving the implication hanging in the air. Heat pricked the back of Kyle’s neck. He turned away sharply, muttering, “Idiot.” But Finn just laughed, following him down like a shadow.

At the counter, Finn slid money across before Kyle could even reach his wallet. “Hey..” Kyle started. “Don’t fight me on this.” Finn cut him off, firm but playful. “Consider it my investment in your survival.” Kyle’s jaw tightened. They carried the bags outside to the car. Finn walked ahead, then stopped suddenly, turning to face him. “You know,” Finn said, his grin softer now, almost vulnerable, “I don’t mind doing this for you. Really. You don’t have to carry everything alone. And, I’ll keep saying this till it sticks to you.”

For a second, Kyle forgot how to breathe. He forced his gaze away, fixing it on the bag in his hands. “I didn’t ask you to.” “I know.” Finn’s voice was low, steady. “That’s why I want to. And you know how I am” He grinned. The words settled between them, heavier than groceries as they moved to enter the car.