Blow - Kim Karr Page 0,46

let myself go—crossing that threshold to another world and reliving the same feeling again and again until I was spent. Just the thought of her milked me for everything I had.

Afterward, I slouched against the glass and thought that if this was all I could have of her—a hand job given by my own palm with her in my mind—I’d take it.

It felt that fucking good.

As my breathing returned to normal, so did my senses, and I chastised myself. I shouldn’t be thinking of her at all, especially in that way.

With a sudden urge to want to chop my dick off, I lathered up with soap, rinsed off, and got the fuck out of there.

I didn’t bother to shave.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at my reflection, the scar under my eye opening up the memory that grabbed me before I could shut it down.

*

“You sure your family doesn’t mind if I stay at your house?” she asked.

“Fuck no, my pop’s passed out somewhere by now and my gramps isn’t home.”

It was the summer after college graduation and I was spending it with a bunch of my friends in the Hamptons. At a party, I had met a girl named Kayla who I wanted to get to know better. It had been the first time since Emily that I had taken any real interest in any chick.

After about a month of dating, I liked her enough to ask her if she wanted to road trip it to my hometown of Boston with me. It was last minute. I was on a drug run for my friends. It was supposed to be quick. Drive to Boston, spend the night at my gramps’s, pick up what I needed, and turn around and go back.

Kayla was excited to tag along and packed quickly, but then had a number of stops she wanted me to make before we actually got on the road. I was a bit annoyed but rode with it. By the time we pulled into Boston, it was late and Kayla complained that she was hungry. I remember thinking how high maintenance she was and that I wasn’t sure the relationship thing was for me. Still, I took her to a local pizzeria in Dorchester to get something to eat and put those thoughts on pause for the night.

It was around eleven before we finally reached Gramps’s place and I unlocked the door that led to his kitchen. Just as I stuck my key in the door, I remembered what it was I really liked about Kayla. It was her aggressiveness. She wrapped her arms around my waist and her hands drifted down. With my cock taking over my thoughts, I turned toward her and started kissing. We stumbled inside in a tangle of tongues, arms, and legs. I seriously doubted we’d make it past the kitchen.

I reached behind me to close the door but before I did, I felt another pair of hands on my shoulders and thought, what the fuck. Out of nowhere, I was shoved forward. I whipped around to see a gang of guys bursting in. There were four of them. I tried to shield Kayla, but one grabbed her from me as the other three went after me. Lunging forward, I made it to the counter and managed to clutch a kitchen knife from the wooden butcher block. This time when the three of them tried to secure me again, I flipped around and blindly stuck the blade somewhere.

“Fuccckkkk, he stabbed me!” one of them screamed.

Everything happened so fast after that. The knife was still in my hand. It didn’t go deep enough that I couldn’t withdraw it. When I tried again, somehow one of them managed to take it from me. He brought the blade right to my face. “Stop struggling,” he ordered.

Heart racing, I felt like a caged animal. My breathing constricted and I was having difficulty drawing air as I fought to free myself.

The one with the knife got real close, trying to scare me. I was lost in my own rage—fear wasn’t even under my radar. I just knew I had to get Kayla out of there. I didn’t know who these guys were, but I knew what they wanted wasn’t anything good. The scuffle continued, and then he managed to slice the blade across my face, just under my eye.

Pain singed my every nerve.

Yet Kayla’s screams had me fighting even harder.

“She’s next