chapter 013,
bloody knuckles

                            LUCY TRIED TO RECALL WHEN SHE HAD FIRST MET BILLY HARGROVE, and realized in a split second that she had never truly done so. She'd heard stories, sure; knew of his complete and utter jerkiness. But she had never seen him in action before then.

"Lucy Andrews," he said loudly, his voice booming over the loud stereo of his car. Lucy hated the way he drew out the second syllable of her first name. "My, my. I never thought I'd get the pleasure."

"Don't get too excited," she replied, leaning against the wooden beams of the porch. Playing it casual was the best she could do. Otherwise, she had no idea what could get him to go away. "What are you doing here, Hargrove?"

His lips split into a sickening grin and he spread his arms. "Why, I'm only looking for my step-sister. Is that so bad?"

"You aren't gonna find her here," Lucy replied. "In fact, I'm the only girl here. Even Mama Byers is gone for the night."

Shit. She shouldn't told him that. Now he knew there were no adults in the house.

Billy's eyebrows shot up on his forehead and his lips parted, but the smile remained. Lucy could tell he recognized her slip-up. He lifted his fingers to his lips and removed the cigarette from between them, dropping it to the ground to stomp it out with his foot.

"Really?" he challenged, taking a few steps forward. "Little birdie told me all the kids were here. Now, was she lying, or are you?"

Lucy couldn't let him get any closer to the house, so she met him in the middle, growing unfortunately close to him. "I don't even know your sister."

"Small? Redhead?" Billy listed, gesturing vaguely to around Max's height. "Bit of a bitch?"

"Not ringing any bells," Lucy spat, trying not to get onto him for calling Max a bitch. "Now hurry on home, Hargrove. It's getting late."

"Oh, yeah?" He smiled again—a shitty smile that reeked of predatory implications. His voice lowered, growing husky and, frankly, repulsive. "Well, why don't you join me, sweetheart?"

Lucy sneered, trying not to gag. "I'll have to pass. You have a... nice night."

As she turned and began to head back inside, Billy's voice stopped her in her tracks: "Tell me this one thing, Andrews."

She faced him once again, arms crossed. "What?"

"There a reason you're lying to me right now?"

Lucy raised her eyebrows, her lips parting in a momentary falter. "How many times do I have to say it before it gets through your thick skull, Hargrove? Max isn't here."

Billy barked a laugh right in her face, and Lucy's stomach dropped. She'd fucked up.

"So then how could you possibly know her name?"

Lucy rolled her jaw. "I've... I've seen her around."

Shitty lie. She knew it. He knew it.

Billy scoffed lightly, dropping his head. He took a few steps in, bridging the gap between the pair of them, his eyes dark. He jerked his chin over to the front window. "Then who is that?"

Lucy glanced over her shoulder in time to see all of the kids' heads ducking as quickly as they possibly could. Max's long red hair caught on the top of the couch and kept in view, revealing her even after she'd ducked away. Lucy bit back a curse and turned back to Billy.

"Go home, Billy," she whispered, no longer playing nice. "I'm not kidding."

He gave her shoulder a light tap, but with his strength and her weight, it shoved her back a few steps. He followed her into it.

"No can-do, Luce," Billy taunted, eyeing her up and down. Lucy's stomach recoiled at the way he said Steve's nickname for her. "I'm getting my stepsister, one way or another."

"Hey!" Steve burst out from the house, anger written all over his face. He put a hand on the same shoulder Billy had shoved, Steve's grip much gentler and guiding as he pulled her away from Billy. "Don't you touch her, asshole. Lucy, get back inside. I'll handle him."

The only reason Lucy followed Steve's instructions was to race back to Will's bedroom. She ignored all of the kids' worried questions and rushed right past them. She threw the door to Will's closet open and dug around as quickly as she could, her heart racing. Behind her, she heard the front door slam open and Billy's husky voice rattling around the walls.

"Shit," she whispered to herself, rifling around all the normal shit that would be in a twelve-year-old boy's closet. Finally, she found a cardboard box buried beneath a pile of old clothes and dragged it out.

It was labeled HALLOWEEN in big, bolded permanent marker.

"Yeah," she muttered, "this'll do."

When she rejoined the scene, her stomach jumped into her throat as she found Billy with his hands on Lucas's shirt, shoving him back into the stove. Lucas's face screwed up in a pained wince. Billy wasn't letting up.

"You're dead," he was threatening, his lips right next to Lucas's ears to make certain he heard it. "I warned you; you go near her again, and you're dead."

"No," Lucy said, roughly pulling Billy away from Lucas by the shoulder. "You are, sweetheart."

Using the surprisingly sturdy lightsaber from Will's old Halloween costume of Luke Skywalker, she swung the plastic tube across Billy's face. His head spun with the force. When he looked back to her, his cheek was bleeding where she'd made contact.

She could only imagine how utterly stupid she looked. Luke Skywalker's lightsaber clutched tightly between both her hands, the plastic breastplate of some knight costume, and nothing but pure rage glowing from her deep brown eyes.

Before Billy could get over his flat-out bewilderment of her outrageous outfit, Lucy used his momentary distraction to her advantage and swung the lightsaber down on him once more. It was the best she could do, okay? Using a real weapon was way out of the picture—she could get away with using a plastic sci-fi laser sword, but threatening Billy with a real-life gun was where she threw the line. And it wasn't like she was equipped to fight with her bare hands.

She could hear the others' voices—cheering her on, maybe even laughing at her blind courage—but all she could focus on was the boy in front of her.

Billy lifted a hand to swipe the blood from his cheekbone. He looked down at it, then raised his eyes back up to Lucy. No longer was he staring at her like he wanted to get into her pants; his lust had been replaced by a dangerous anger.

"I didn't wanna have to ruin such a pretty face," he said, his voice low. Threatening. He balled up one of his fists. "But you're asking for it."

Lucy set her jaw and glared determinedly as Billy raised his fist behind his head. He was giving her a chance to run. But she just stood there, waiting for the point of impact.

And one came. But not from Billy.

Something blew into her side and pushed her to land harshly on her hip, her back hitting the wall and forcing the wind out of her. When she looked back up to Billy, Lucy found Steve where she had just been, blood dripping from the side of his lip and a groan escaping from his mouth.

"Steve!" Lucy shot forward, but someone grabbed her arm.

She turned to find Max holding her back. The redhead shook her head. "He'll kill you, Lucy! Steve has to take this one."

     "He'll kill Steve, too," Lucy argued furiously, still struggling against Max's grip. But Leo joined, helping by grabbing hold of Lucy's other arm to keep her back. This was perhaps the breaking point for Lucy; she spun around to face her younger brother, still trying to wrestle free from his grip, anger radiating from her face.

     "Leopold Andrews," she warned, poison dripping from her use of his full name, "if you don't let go of me right now, I'll tell everyone what the Great Grounding of 1980 was really about."

     Leo's brown eyes went wide with earnest fear. For two entire years, the party had been trying to pry out of Lucy the real reason Leo had been grounded for three weeks. He had originally tried to play it off as something small, like forgetting to do his chores, but once Lucy accidentally let slip that there was much, much more to it, the boys were invested. For two years, she had withheld telling them, and it all paid off; because Leo's fingers instantly released from Lucy's forearm.

     She wrenched her other wrist out of Max's grasp and hurled forward. Billy was landing blow after blow on Steve's nearly-unconscious frame. If nobody had stepped in, Steve might have damn near been killed.

     Lucy had no idea what took over her. She felt the bitter taste of rage in her mouth, a flaming fist of fury clamping around her heart and driving her forward.

     And the kids could only stand back in a paralyzed shock as they watched the brightest girl in town rip Billy Hargrove to shreds.

     If she hadn't had the element of surprise on her side, she would've been flung to the side easily. But since all of Billy's attention was on demolishing Steve, he didn't even notice Lucy flying up behind him before she had already smashed the plastic lightsaber over his back, the pieces shattering in two and splintering over his back. He collapsed to the ground, groaning on impact.

     "You fucking ASSHOLE!" Lucy screamed, still whacking at him with half of the broken lightsaber, its serrated edges catching on his shirt. He managed to roll over and tried to reach out for Lucy, but she just kept screaming, bringing the now-deadly weapon down time and time again. She emphasized each word with a hit, her voice growing in volume until she was damn near ripping her vocal cords in two. "I—am—so—done—with—douchebags—like—you!"

     His face was bleeding from a multitude of cuts and bruises, and his shirt was covered in all sorts of blood and sweat. His lip was busted. He gurgled and moaned something incoherent—probably calling her a bitch, or something.

     "I—swear—to—fucking—GOD!" Lucy screamed, before lifting the broken lightsaber over her head and driving the jagged end into the floorboards next to Billy's face. When he didn't immediately move to leave the house peacefully—probably because Lucy had just beat him in with a child's toy—she picked him up by the shirt. She had to strain against his weight, but altogether held him up long enough to curl up her right fist and drive it straight into his nose.

     He fell limp, and she dropped his shirt, allowing him to hit the ground with a heavy thunk.

     When she turned around, all of the kids were staring at her, their jaws popped open and eyes as wide as saucers. Mike was the first to speak.

     "Holy... shit," he said, nothing but true awe in his voice.

     "Dude." Dustin leaned over to Lucas. "Is it bad that I thought that was hot?"

     Lucy's gaze drifted over each of them. Her chest heaved with pants and suppressed sobs. As soon as she opened her mouth, though, she burst into tears, cradling her fist to her chest. Weakly, she managed to stammer out between sobs, "I think I broke my hand!"