Bodyguard University: I Hate Loving You

The Skin on your Bones

"What happened to your face?" I asked, biting back my irritability.

Kinn rubbed the back of his neck and gave a sheepish grin. "Ah, haha, I was being an idiot and ran into the door," he said, voice wavering.

I crossed my arms. "How did you run into a door?" My tone was full of doubt.

"I wasn't paying attention," Kinn reasoned, tucking a hand in his pocket. "Was on my phone."

A likely story.

Kinn wasn't the clumsy type. Not to mention that I'd not once seen him on his phone while he was walking. He usually pulled it out when he was bored of a conversation or had nothing else better to do.

But why lie? My instincts were telling me that it had to do with those men with the knives.

"Did you get into another fight?" I asked, no longer willing to play his guessing game.

Kinn paused but quickly covered his surprise with a shake of his head, faking a relaxed smile. "No, nothing like that." He laughed it off, waving his hand at the notion. "It was a simple mistake, honestly."

After spending more time with Kinn, I was getting better at detecting his bullshit. It was always subtle, but his subtleties were obvious the more I paid attention.

Fuck it. Evidently, Kinn wasn't going to let up and tell me what was going on. I hated that. If we were going to be a we, we had to be honest with each other. We had to be on the same page. Relationships were all about communication. Not that we were in any relationship, but I felt like we were going down that path.

Deciding to let it go, I sighed. "Be more careful. You shouldn't have to fear inanimate objects."

Kinn nodded and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer so that our faces nearly touched. A thrill of heat washed over my face, too aware of the people around us. He snuck a kiss to my cheek and let me go before others started to spread the word. I smacked his chest and glared at him, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes saying that he knew I enjoyed it.

"Your next class is Chemistry, right?" I asked, pushing past our little romantic scene in the fucking hallway. I was praying that Techno didn't have any photographic evidence of our slip up. Though I said I didn't care if people knew, I did care about the consequences that came with it. If my father found out I was gay, there'd be hell to pay. And I didn't have that kind of money.

"I have all the chemistry I need right here," Kinn whispered low enough that only I could hear, teasing a tone that allured my desire to shove him against the wall and get on my knees again. I licked my lips at the thought of last night but quickly shook those memories away.

"Well, unfortunately, you aren't graded for this kind of chemistry," I muttered, bashfully looking away to stare at the sticky floor.

"What grade would you give me?" he murmured, running a finger up my thigh. A shiver traced my spine.

"Let's get to class," I said, walking in the direction of his next class before he had a chance to do anything else to me. Kinn snickered and followed behind.

I dropped Kinn off at his class and began walking in the direction of my class. But as I was walking, I realized something. I still didn't know where the hell Kinn's bruise came from.

Fuck this. I was not going to let Kinn hide shit from me anymore. I didn't want to wait until something bad happened for him to deliver the news. No. I was going to take matters into my own hands. I sharply turned around and raced in the opposite direction of my class. The shooting range would have to carry on without me.

***

I entered my dorm room and tried thinking of possible hiding places. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, but I figured I'd eventually stumble upon something.

Wandering around, I surveyed the room, considering the likelihood of him shoving things under my dirty shirts.

If he was going to hide something, he'd put it in a place I didn't use.

What didn't I use? It wasn't like I had much in my room to begin with. There was my desk, my bed, and my dresser. A few posters hung on the wall, but other than that, it would be hard to put anything anywhere.

Playing a game of tennis between ideas, I finally decided to just fucking search. I tugged my pillow off my bed and sheathed it from my pillowcase. Nothing. Defeated, I tossed it on the bed. An idea came to mind. I snuck my fingers under the mattress and propped it up, checking for anything inconspicuous that we could've been sleeping on top of. Again, nothing.

This was going to be harder than I thought. Kinn...what kind of things would he hide? A gun, perhaps? Someone in danger was likely to carry a gun, especially a rebellious one. I scanned my room for places that could conceal weapons. I looked at my desk, filled with textbooks and pens.

That's it!

Kinn had brought his own textbooks, claiming he used them to study. But I'd never seen him actually study. With a heart full of hope, I went to his books, opening them up one by one. To my dismay, they were all real books. None were hollow.

I felt like an idiot. I didn't even know what I was looking for, or if there was anything to look for in the first place. I could've been missing an important lesson at the expense of nothing.

I sighed, flipping through his Chemistry book in frustration, though I knew it was pointless. Suddenly, a silver ring flew out from the pages, like words were coming out from the book. My eyebrows raised in surprise. Why would he be hiding a ring?

Curious, I plucked the metal, which had landed on my desk, and carefully inspected it. It was heavier than I anticipated and shiny as if it had barely been worn. The outside was smooth and clean, classic. Inside, dark words were inscribed. 'The skin on your bones won't save you forever.'

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

It was an ominous phrase. A phrase like this was something I'd expect to read in a horror story or murderer's threat, not in some ring.

Confused, dazed, weirded out, I had to know more. There was only one thing that knew more than anyone else: Google.

I pulled out my phone and hastily typed the phrase in the search bar. A page full of websites linked to the phrase. I clicked on the first one.

'Head Gang Member in Prison After Years of Police Scouting'

The blog continued on, discussing how a man that shared Kinn's last name was in prison for drug distribution. The message was the gang's signature tag, but they didn't dare to reveal its meaning.

That was when it hit me. Kinn was from a fucking gang. He was a fucking gang member and was probably getting into altercations with other gang members. No wonder he didn't want to tell me about it. He didn't want to admit that he was affiliated with low-life, poor, waste of society, gangs.

Boy was he going to have a rude awakening when he saw me again.