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The council estate was nothing like Miami. London is grimy in every way.
Miami is grimy…it just dresses up its dirt in sunlight and neon.
Back then, our council house wasn’t part of one of the brutalist buildings downtown. It stood alone, invisible to the busy world just streets away. It’s now been turned into some sort of high-end rental property. When I was a kid, it was a world of broken windows and stolen dreams, where I scraped by with my wits and quick fingers. My mum's boyfriend, Scott…he used to beat us bloody. He'd come home in a rage, fists like hammers, and we'd bear the brunt of it. I had no choice but to learn how to take a hit, how to fight back.
When I was fourteen, the house caught fire.
The Miami heat was nothing compared to that blaze. I could've saved Scott, but I didn't. His screams haunted me for years, but they were nothing compared to the silence from my mum. She sent me away to live with my grandparents, cutting me off like a gangrenous limb.
I was a killer, sure.
But I did it for her.
And I take a lot of pride in that…in killing for the people I love. Maybe it makes me a monster, but sometimes you want a monster in your corner when the stakes are high.
The metal walls of the warehouse reverberated like the slamming of our estate’s door–final, damning. And normally I wasn’t one for flashbacks…but having Sebastian around had me thinking about my own fucked-up childhood, and how awful his would be if he fell in with the de Lucas. While I knew Sebastian wasn’t mine, he was part of our weird little family, and it was my job to protect him as much as it was Bash’s or Justice’s or Hassan or Zane.
They were playing parents, so I would be their fucking pitbull.
The harbor lights flickered, a dodgy bulb fighting to stay alive. Shadows lurched with the rhythm of my heartbeat.
Thoughts of Sebastian’s safety collided with bad memories of having to fend for myself.
The responsibility weighed me down. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with him most of the time. He was a funny little boy, easy, though he seemed to have a bit of a temper.
He reminded me a lot of Bash.
He reminded me less of Jez, but I had no idea what Jez had been like when he was a kid. His past had broken him.
Mine? It made me stronger.
After I’d left London, I found a new family of sorts with Bash Rivera and his crew, the Miami Knives. I started out as a drug dealer. As time went on, I proved my loyalty and skill, rising through the ranks to become an enforcer, one of Bash's right-hand men. Eventually, I became one of his core group of men. So there I was, standing sentinel over a contraband op like a guardian over dreams I never even allowed myself to have.
That was a long time ago, though. Now I shared my bed with one of them and my woman with all of them. It was a strange kind of brotherhood, one that was intimate in ways I never anticipated when the only heat I’d ever shared was from the flames of a burning childhood…a burning home.
Eh, fuck it all.
I could dwell on my fucked up past some other time.
"Skylar, you got eyes on that shipment?" Bash's voice crackled through the earpiece, pulling me back to the present.
"The bulk of it is here, but we’re still waiting for the last few shipments. They should arrive before dawn," I replied, scanning the crates piled high in the warehouse. This was all going too well; I’d actually hoped to have the opportunity to crack some skulls, given the mood I was in. “I’m bored, Bash.”
He chuckled. "Good. Keep watch until the deal goes down. We can’t afford any attention on us right now.”
"Okay, boss. Understood."
“Is Zane with you?”
“No, I can handle this myself.”
Bash sighed. “Alright, buddy. If you’re sure.”
I could’ve responded to that, but I tapped my earpiece and turned my attention back to the warehouse. As I stood there, surrounded by shadows and silence, I couldn't help but reflect on the choices I'd made. My past might have been a tangled web of blood and betrayal, but it had forged me into someone who could face the darkness head-on. I had come to accept the consequences of living this life.
My loyalty to the Knives was unwavering.
As I listened to the distant hum of the city, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming–something that threatened everything I'd built. The idea that Sebastian’s grandparents would come for him…the very thought of it sent a shiver down my spine.
