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Slowly, I nodded. “I understand. You mean just like now when I sprung to tear your limbs off without hesitation. I have to be in that mode every second that I’m playing this part.”
“Can you do it?”
I looked to my sister. “I can do it. I’ll imagine every barb, threat, or hit is aimed at Sienna, not me. If I do, I won’t pause a second to knock out a bitch,” I said. “But let my sister have a break. We haven’t eaten yet and I scoped out your pantry, fully stocked.
“How about you get some food going while we spar?” I asked Sienna.
“Okay. Any requests?”
Bane took hold of my hips and positioned my stance on the mat. “I have chicken thawing in the fridge and potatoes in the pantry. I was planning to roast them up.”
“Say no more, roast chicken, veggies, and potatoes coming up.”
“I saw through that,” Bane said after the door swung shut. He folded my fingers in, curling them on my palm. “You said you understood, but you still sent her away so I couldn’t lob insults at her anymore. They’re going to see that too.”
We were so close, heat radiated off him, warming my skin and chilled fingers. “See what?”
“That she’s your weakness.”
I stiffened. “And it’d be the last stupid act they committed if they tried to get to me through her.”
Bane stepped back, raising his palms. “Strike in the center. Throw your weight into it.”
We worked through the moves—each one taught again, then again, then five more times until he was certain the stance, strike, and power ingrained in my muscles. For some reason, Bane didn’t toss insults at me between hits. Maybe he believed having Sienna as motivation was all I needed.
“Practice every night,” Bane said, dropping down on the mat. “Sunny will spar with you. He learned from the best. He won’t let you get rusty.”
Roast chicken and my sister’s humming floated through the screen door, beckoning me into the warmth. I found myself sitting at his side.
“Who’s the best?” I asked. “You?”
“Nah.” Bane turned his face to the starless sky, grin playing on his lips. “My dad. He trained as a boxer. Could’ve gone all the way, but a life of crime called to him.” Bane laughed at his joke.
“You say dad like you don’t have four of them.”
“No, when I say dad, I always mean mine. Baris Alexander.” He turned to me. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re all my fathers. They taught me everything. They raised me. But I had to share my other fathers with my brothers and sisters. I shared my mom with everyone. Baris is the one who’s... just mine.” Bane pulled a face. “I sound like an ass, don’t I?”
“No,” I said quickly, laying a hand on his knee. “You don’t. I know you love your family. But we all need that person, don’t we? The one we feel closest to. The one we know we can tell everything, and they’ll understand. Sienna was always that person for me.” I laughed. “When we were little, we invented a secret language, and at night, she’d sneak under my covers and we’d tell each other stories only we understood. We didn’t have a word for everything, so we’d make up something and sprinkle in gibberish.”
“That’s sweet,” Bane replied. His deep voice was calmer than I ever heard it—words tickling my ear softly, instead of bowling me over. I found myself lying down next to him—letting those words travel a shorter distance. “My father couldn’t always speak to me, so he left notes for me to find. The day of my first boxing match, I found a note cheering me on in my glove. Even though he sat still and silent the entire match, I knew inside he was shouting louder than everyone else.”
“That’s sweeter.” Shifting, I traced his face, moving over his sharp cheekbones’ bumps and dips. “Can I ask you something?”
“Why do I live out in the middle of nowhere with scarecrows for company?”
“Yeah. Why do you?”
“Sunny or Genny didn’t tell you?”
I lifted my shoulder. “Genny said you don’t have to worry about your men killing you and taking over if you’re out here, but that’s not it, is it? Why bother with the killing part when you’re never around? Whoever runs things when you’re not there, is the de facto boss anyway.”
He chuckled. “Sunny was right about you. You’re perceptive.”
“So, what’s the real reason?”
“The real reason,” he repeated slowly. “If you didn’t think less of me before, you will if I tell you the truth.”
“No.” I said it, and meant it. “I won’t.”
He turned his neck, studying me with the same closeness. The silence stretched between us and I accepted he wouldn’t answer.
“I live out here because in these woods I’m not tempted... to care.”
I was supposed to say something. I should’ve said something, but nothing came to my lips as his words sunk in. Bane didn’t need me to. He kept speaking, pushing my heart further and further down.
