At first, Kyle's idea to get me a lawyer sounded like a stupid idea. Well, maybe not a stupid idea because let's face it, I need a lawyer, but a pointless idea because I don't care what happens to me after today. If I'm unable to keep my dad safe, there won't be much of a point to keeping me out of prison. I won't care what happens at that point anyway.

I go through the motions though because Kyle insists. He also insists on paying for the lawyer's services using money that, according to Kyle, his dad has no access to. It's dirty, paying for a lawyer with the money of the guy I just got through beating the daylights out of, but knowing Kyle got the money from Holland in the first place makes me rest a little easier when I think about using it.

I don't like handouts, and I never will. That said, screwing over the person who screwed me over has a certain poetic justice to it that makes it easier for me to accept Kyle's help.

And Kyle's help, turns out, is better help than I could have anticipated. He hires me a top of the line lawyer for a ridiculous rate, and as I explain to the lawyer everything that's happening, he seems confident about getting any assault charges that may be brought against me by Holland plead down or dropped, despite my less than perfect record.

On top of that, my lawyer seems to think, and I'm using his words here, "the prosecutor has a hard-on for Holland." Apparently, the district attorney has been trying to build a case against Holland for years. I leave my attorney's office a couple hours after entering with the promise of a call from him within two days.

Kyle is waiting for me in the waiting area of the attorney's office. He pushes to his feet as I walk out of the office, and he walks over to me, appearing anxious.

"How'd it go?" he asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. Two days is a long time, but even when I impressed upon my attorney how important it was to get my dad transferred from his current prison to one upstate soon, my attorney continued to tell me it would take time to work out the details of the deal he's negotiating on my behalf. In fact, he condescendingly told me these things take time.

"It went," I tell Kyle.

I know I'm being cryptic, and I know he's on the edge of his seat with curiosity, but I don't feel like talking about it anymore today. I'm exhausted. My knuckles are throbbing, I have a massive stress headache, and I know I can't sleep in my own bed tonight. On my lawyer's request, I won't be staying in Holland's house until this is all cleared up.

"Gotta find somewhere to stay tonight," I mumble as I walk towards the front door of the office building, looking and sounding like a zombie.

Kyle trails after me on the way out to his car. He drove me here, and I'm not opposed to taking a ride from him to whatever hotel I'll be staying in tonight. On a normal day, I wouldn't put him out, and I'd hoof it, but I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.

"I got us a room at the motel we stayed in when Hartley attacked me. I figured getting out of town might be a good idea," Kyle tells me.

His tone is hesitant. He's talking to me like he used to before I started making an effort with him. I can't say I like it. I can't even say I'm not miserable knowing on top of everything going on with my dad and now my legal issues, things are strained with Kyle again. But I also can't say that it's okay he talked to his dad when he told me he wouldn't.

I don't miss that he says us and not you, but if I'm being honest with myself, I'd rather have him there than be alone in a motel for at least two days. He's been nothing but helpful when he could have taken things completely differently when he walked in on me taking out my frustrations on his father's face.

His words from the night we camped out run on repeat through my head.

I want you to know I hold no loyalty to him.

I didn't know whether or not to trust those words then, but he's done nothing but prove them to me all day. I climb into the passenger side of his car when we reach it, and I lean against the back of the seat as he pulls out of the lawyer's parking lot.

I don't know where he stands with all of this, and it's just occurring to me that it matters. He's been fairly silent on the topic of my attacking his dad. He's been fairly silent in general aside from arranging the meeting for me with the lawyer. His silent presence hasn't gone unnoticed or unappreciated, but I also can't keep from thinking about my dad hurting in part because of Kyle.

We drive in silence to the motel. When we arrive, Kyle wordlessly climbs out of the car in front of the motel to check in. I don't bother following him in until he comes back out with the room key. Then I allow him to lead the way to the room.

The room, turns out, is the exact same one we stayed in last time. I don't know if he noticed or not, but I certainly notice. When I step into the room behind him, I'm swamped with memories of the last time we were here.

"I'm going to shower," I mumble to him, not sure I have it in me to face every conflicting thought rushing through my brain.

Kyle glances at me. He appears to want to say something. He even opens his mouth, but no noise comes out. Instead, he nods a single nod, and I leave the room.

The shower is nice. It's the first time I've been able to shower since the incident with Holland, and watching his blood wash down the drain gives me a sort of twisted satisfaction. I can't help but grimace when I think about what Kyle might think of my finding satisfaction in seeing his dad beaten on his office floor.

I shower until it runs dry. I can admit I'm putting off what's inevitable. Kyle and I have to talk, and the truth is, I'm not exactly in the forgiving mood after the day I had.

After dressing, I step into the main room of the motel, and he's resting in bed. At first he appears somewhat relaxed, but when I join him, he sits up a little straighter, and he gives me his full attention. I don't know what to say to get the ball rolling here. I don't talk through thing with other people. It's never felt important to talk to someone before now. Then again, I've never cared much about repairing broken relationships in the past.

Thankfully, Kyle puts me out of my misery.

"Ready to hear my apology?" he asks.

Despite the casual words, there's nothing casual about their delivery. He's anxious, and he's doing a poor job of disguising it. I take pity on him with a quick nod before I sit on the edge of the bed.

"I shouldn't have done it, and I'm sorry I lied," Kyle says.

Simple, concise, and yet, somehow effective. I feel my anger towards him thaw when he doesn't bother beating around the bush.

"I want to tell you it's okay. I do," I tell him, but then I force myself to say what's necessary, "but you have to understand in my world, the stakes are high. When I tell you not to talk to your dad, I have my reasons."

"I know. I'm sorry. I thought I was helping, but I understand I wasn't," Kyle says.

He's seated on the bed next to me, seeming to be taking this conversation very seriously. I respect that. He truly seems sorry, and I want to forgive him. It's just difficult in this situation. He's been doing a great job of maintaining eye contact and not avoiding the subject, and I'm glad he's facing this head on.

"Does this mean you go back to hating me now?" Kyle asks, this time looking anywhere but at me, "If I get a say in it, I prefer the version of you I've been getting lately."

There's something about his delivery that breaks whatever resolve I thought I had. I can't keep holding this over his head. As angry as I am with him, I want to forgive him just as much. I put my arm beside him on the bed, and I hover over him. I can hear his breath hitch when I'm within a couple of inches his face. He probably has no idea which direction this is headed in, but I put him out of his misery before too long passes.

I give him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"I won't go back to hating you now," I tell him, before kissing him again.

"But don't lie to me again. I'm not usually the forgiving type," I tell him.

He smiles at me before cupping my face in his hands.

"I won't," he promises.