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Archer half carries me,half drags me up the stairs. My knees are too weak to carry myself, and I’m terrified at what I’m about to see. On the ride over, I calmed down enough to stop crying hysterically. But now that I’m home, everything is about to hit me again.
“I can’t,” I breathe. Archer’s arm tightens around me.
“Your man has your boy,” he says sternly. “You know Kiwi killed the fucker who touched his son.”
“Ian—” I choke on his name. “He’s not his—“
“Yeah,” Arch says. “He is.”
We get to the porch and I stare at the door. I notice every chip in the paint, every scratch and dent for the first time. When did it get so bad?
Suddenly, it swings open, and blood is the only thing I see. Ezra’s covered in it. On his face, his clothes, his boots. Everywhere.
“Ez,” I croak. He reaches for me as I fall into him. His arms feel better than Archer’s. They feel right. Safe. “Where is he?”
“In bed,” he says against my hair. “Axel and Blade are working on him.” I nod against his chest, trying to ignore the blood I know isn’t his. “Baby, I need you to listen to me.” He pulls away and smooths my hair from my face. “He’s real fucked up. His face—” His eyes lift above my head, then Archer’s hand lands on my back. “Enzo’s dad fucked him up, but it looks worse than it is, okay? His nose is broken, and he has bruises, his lip is busted—”
“What the fuck happened?” I cry as I step back. Archer’s chest holds me up, but doesn’t bring any comfort.
“I was late,” he says. “I—he called me, but I didn’t hear my phone. But I got to him, and he’s okay. He’s alive—”
“You keep saying that like it matters!” I shout, and he winces. “I don’t care that he’s alive! He shouldn’t have been hurt in the first place.”
“You’re right,” he says, dropping his head forward. “I’m sorry.”
“He’s my fucking baby, Ez,” I say, my voice breaking.
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
He stays staring at his feet, and I wait for him to say something else, something to fix this, but he doesn’t. I step around him, and he lets me.
That breaks me more than anything. He doesn’t reach for me, or try to stop me. He just lets me walk alone to Ian’s room.
“You shouldn’t be seeing this,” Axel says. For a moment, I think he’s speaking to me, but then I realize he can’t see me. And I can’t see Ian. Everyone is surrounding him, blocking him from me. A territorial rage fills me, one only a mother can have, and I step forward.
“I’m fine, Ax,” Koda says, and I stop. Her eyes are trained on the bed—on Ian. Axel lets out an irritated breath but doesn’t argue. Blade is by his face, crouched over him, his hands moving quickly. Koda hands him items I don’t know the name for.
“Is he okay?” I ask, my voice smaller than I’d ever heard. Koda’s head snaps up and when her eyes meet mine, tears fill them.
“He will be,” she says.
“Why did Kiwi let you in here?” Axel grumbles. “Kiwi! Come get your—”
“I need to see my son,” I say. His gaze drops to mine, his lips tight. “You’re lucky I’m not ripping you away from him. And the only reason I’m not is because, for whatever reason, you’re helping him.”
“For whatever reason?” He tilts his head to the side. “You’re one of ours. He’s one of ours. We take care of our own, Kennedy.”
I don’t try to correct him. We’re not one of them.
“Baby,” Ezra says as his hand lands on my back. “Blade is cleaning him up.”
“I can see that,” I say. I shift my glare at him. His eyes look…broken. For once, they’re not full of humor, mischief, self-loathing, bloodlust. He’s just broken. And it shatters the rest of my sanity. “Ez.”
“I know,” he says.
But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know because I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck I’m feeling or thinking or what I want to say.
