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His pace.
A thrust.
I dodge.
Ready for that chance to bleed his teeth, I drive my fist into his top jaw, spilling blood through his lips as I promised.I keep my promises, Chuck.
The blood is my catalyst. Grinning menacingly as his mouth fills with the thick crimson fluid, I roar my victory attuned with the man I become in the ring—the monster they made under my skin. Wanting more of him, my pulse is a beat between my ears pushing me to reap more pain.
But then the sliding doors open again, and the colour of caramel swirls in my peripherals, dragging my gaze over to catch a glimpse. And where I would never usually see, feel, or acknowledge anyone else during a fight, I can’t seem to control myself this time.
She is standing in the open doors, freshly washed hair silky and long framing her face, black designer jeans hugging her lean, perfectly formed pins.
For a moment, she smiles at me. And fuck me.
Do that again, Kaya.
Smile again.
She is striking, and my lungs suddenly burn with a message to breathe. But then her expression falls, her blue eyes slicing across to movement in front of me.
I follow her focus just in time to see Chuck’s fist hurtling towards me, feel it connect with my right eye socket, hear a grunt rip from my chest—
I see black.
“This is your fault!”Mum screams, the bottle of whiskey leaving her hand, hurtling towards me.
What’s my fault?
I cower and cover my face and head, like my brothers taught me to do. ‘That’s where your brain is, Xander,’ they’d say to me. ‘Your clever brain.’
Max steps in front of me, raising his forearm to shield my face, the bottle beating his young arm. A grunt falls reluctantly through his lips, though another person would be wailing in pain, but any sign of displeasure in front of her means he felt it. And he felt it bad.
She just laughs at us. “I was placed beside Betty Harold today at lunch. Can you believe it, Betty? Susan McKane got my seat, and you want to know why?” She opens her arms wide, her pink robe wet from spilling her drink earlier. “Because I am your mum. Because you make me drink. And she is sober now. Every bad thing that happens to me can be traced back to you!”
I make her drink?
I didn’t know that was my fault. I wonder what I can do to stop her from needing to drink. I could bring her water in the mornings… I could do more for her. I could.
I should.
Hiding behind Max, I feel like a coward, and she hates weakness. I look at Max’s arm, swelling immediately, blotted around the muscles, the skin busted open in cavities like a bloody moon. It’s probably broken.
Max’s arm is my fault.
CHAPTERTWELVE
kaya
He grinned at me…
He grinned and then—
He is knocked out cold…
I watch Xander’s dad check the pulse straining along his unconscious son’s throat. Feeling for a rhythmic beat, Luca studies the second hand as it circles his graphite Rolex watch. I think he’s counting in his head. His expression lacks any emotion, while waves of panic claw at me.
Is his heart not racing?
