Damn Good Reasons **DISCONTINUED - SEE NEW VER!**

35 Beyond Words

Rewritten Oct 2020.

"Damn, how can you do that?" I winced after unwittingly walking into the bathroom and catching a glimpse of Ace sitting on the edge of the tub with a needle and thread, stitching up the gash in his side.

Ace took a puff from the burning cigarette that was hanging from his lips as he pulled the thread through his skin to secure the final stitch. "Pass me the tape."

I reached around the big bottle of whiskey that stood stockily in the sink, and took the roll of surgical tape and scissors to hand to him. Ace snipped off the thread and patted the stitching with a blood soaked cloth before covering the entire wound with tape.

I sat down next to him on the edge of the tub, looking over his injuries. Large patches of bruising dominated his rib area, he had small abrasions across all of his knuckles and a minor cut above his eyebrow that he'd already taped shut. Kyle hadn't gone down without putting up a good fight.

We had barely said a word to each other since being back at his place. It had taken the entire drive home for him to stop lashing out at things and stringing out the profanities, and I would just rub his shoulders or gently smooth my hand across his knee to let him know I was there for him. Eventually, he calmed down, but his silence made it obvious that the episode still weighed heavily on his mind. I, myself, still felt shaken. I would literally tremble every now and then as I thought back through it all. Seeing Ace kneeling down by Kyle with that switchblade; I was torn over how to feel about that. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted him to talk to me.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem so angry. I wonder if you're just worked up from the fight? Or... if you think this might have some really bad repercussions."

Ace took one last deep draw from his cigarette before tossing the butt into the trashcan close by. He was quiet for a while until he finally blew a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his short, blonde hair. "No doubt about it," he said. "And that's why I wanted to kill him. One reason. The bad blood between us goes way back.  And it would've been the ultimate victory to do it."

"So... you're angry about being interrupted?"

"The old man would've been too late."

"You changed your mind?"

"Eyeball told me you were watchin'. If I'd done it, you'd be lookin' at me a whole lot differently right now. Wouldn't you."

"Well, taking a life is a big deal."

Ace winced slightly as he stood, and he washed the drying blood off his hands before grabbing up the big bottle of whiskey and spinning off the lid. He took a swig right from its mouth, and it swung by his side as he began to pace slowly around the room.

"You know it's in me. Dontcha?" he said.

"What's in you?"

"Most people, they'd get to that point, when you know one more hit will end them, most people couldn't do it. But for me, I'm not afraid. And it's only a matter of time before..." Ace stopped for another swig of whiskey before continuing his pacing.

"Well, maybe you had good reasons to wanna do it. Kyle's... psychopathic."

"Yeah? You think I had good reason to wanna kill Chris? 'Cause that time, it was the gun that stopped me."

I hadn't been there, but every time the incident was mentioned, my imagination conjured up a replay of the sickening scene in the thickest details. And it didn't stop where Ace had stopped. It tortured me by making me watch Ace go through with it. I shuddered and felt my stomach curdle, and if I had eaten that day, I probably would have put the food in the sink.