Page 46 of Kane
The Streets, many years ago…
The alley smelled of piss and rotting garbage. Rain had turned the ground to mud. Three older boys… seventeen, maybe eighteen… had me cornered. I was already bleeding from a split lip and a cut above my eye. One of them had a knife. The others just wanted to stomp the so-called Kamedov brat into the pavement.
I fought like a cornered animal, swinging wildly, taking hits that rattled my teeth. Then I heard them, Milo and Loren, leaning against the wall at the mouth of the alley, smoking cigarettes like they were watching a show.
“Fight, little brother,” Milo called, voice calm. “Show us you’re worthy of the name.”
Loren just nodded, arms crossed.
No rescue. No intervention.
Rage and pride surged through me. I stopped trying to run. I charged the biggest one, tackled him into the mud, and beat himwith everything I had. The knife clattered away. I took a boot to the ribs but kept swinging. By the time it was over, all three older boys were on the ground, groaning, broken.
I stood over them, chest heaving, blood running down my face, knuckles shredded.
Milo walked over, clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to sting, and grinned.
“There he is,” Milo chuckled. “The Young Menace. You earned this.”
Back in the present…
A wry smile tugs at my lips in the darkness. That night all those years ago changed something in me. It taught me that pain, blood, and standing alone were the price of respect in our world. I wonder if I’ll ever teach my own children the same lesson one day, when they’re old enough, when they need to prove they carry the Kamedov blood.
Children.
The thought hits me like a gunshot. Could those children be with William?
I look down at his sleeping face, innocent, brilliant, soft in all the ways my life has never been. The idea of us having children, of tiny hands gripping his finger while I teach them to be strong, fierce, and unafraid… it fills me with a longing so sharp it almost hurts.
I’m falling for him.Hard. Harder than I ever thought possible. This smart, sassy, determined Little who takes my spankingsand still looks at me like I hung the moon. William makes me want things I have no right to want—peace, a future, something beyond endless war and revenge.
But doubt creeps in like poison.
He’s too good for this life. Too straightlaced. Too academic. One day the reality of who I am—whatI do—will hit him fully. The late nights.
The blood on my hands. The danger that follows me everywhere. He’ll wake up one morning and realize he can’t live like this. He’ll leave.
And I won’t blame him.
I tighten my arm around William, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. For now, he’s here. Warm.Mine. I’ll take every second I can get. I’ll protect him with everything I have. And when the day comes that he walks away, I’ll let him go.
Because loving William means wanting what’s best for William—even if that best isn’t me.
I close my eyes, but sleep stays far away. Instead, I hold him close and listen to him breathe, letting the steady rhythm anchor me while my mind spins with vengeance, memories, and the terrifying realization that this soft, bookish boy has somehow become the most dangerous thing in my life.
He holds my heart.
And I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to do about it.
* * *
Morning light filters through the tall windows of the apartment as I watch William get ready. He moves around the bedroom in that adorable, slightly frazzled way of his, pulling on a soft cream sweater, styling his blonde hair, carefully tucking Twist into his backpack like he’s attending lectures too.
I’ve already made coffee and ordered a car, but I decide against it.
I want to walk William to the university myself.
“Come on, Daddy,” William says cheerily. “Let’s move!”
