Page 16 of After the Knockout
“Huh?” I replied, sweeping my eyes over him. He was sitting stiff on the sofa. Dakoda was stretched across his lap like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. KO didn’t look nearly as relaxed. He looked like he was holding something fragile, like if he moved wrong, he’d break him.
“He sleep?” he asked, and I walked back into the room, closing the space between us to get a better look. Sure enough, Dakoda’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was open just enough to let out a soft snore.
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s out.”
“Mid-sentence?”
“He does that,” I replied. “Crash like that when he’s been up a long time. We got up super early to make the drive, and he didn’t have a nap today.”
KO’s gaze dropped back down to him. They’d been deep in a shadow puppet reenactment ofMonday Night Rawfor the last hour. I was honestly surprised Dakoda didn’t pass out sooner.
“I’ll lay him down,” I said stepping closer, but KO shook his head immediately.
“Nah, I got it.”
“No,” I said gently. “You ain’t gotta?—”
“I said I got it, Lyrius.” The possessiveness in his voice made me pause, and I instantly threw my hands in the air in surrender.
“Okay.” I backed away. My eyes were still trained on the two of them. KO was looking down at Dakoda like he wasn’t sure what came next.
“He’s not a baby,” I said. “You can just”—I grabbed one of the pillows off the couch and set it down—“prop his head up. Put the blanket over him. He’ll stay sleep.”
KO watched me for half a second, then did exactly what I’d suggested. He slid the pillow under Dakoda’s head and slowly eased from under him. Once he was standing, he pulled the blanket over him, and then he just stood there, watching him sleep.
“He’s a cool kid,” KO said after a minute. “Very smart.”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
“He talks too damn much.”
“Yeah.” A small smile pulled at my mouth before I could stop it. “He does.”
KO huffed under his breath. “Get that talkin’ shit from you.”
I glanced at him. “I do not talk too much.”
“Lyrius.”
“What?” I fought a smile. “I don’t.”
“Aight.” He scoffed under his breath and shook his head. I couldn’t hold back the laugh that slipped out. For a second, we both stood there laughing, and it felt normal.
“He’s only like that with people he’s comfortable with,” I added, nodding toward Dakoda. “If he don’t know you like that, he’s real quiet. Just be sitting there . . . watching everything.”
“Yeah,” he said low. “I peeped that.” KO’s eyes dropped back to him, something unreadable moving behind them. I leaned back against the wall a little.
“It’s funny, though . . . When he was little, his teachers used to be worried about his speech. They were saying he wasn’t talking enough. Had me stressed for a minute,” I said, shaking my head softly. “Now?” I glanced down at Dakoda. “He doesn’t shut up. He’ll talk you clean under the table if you let him.”
The room fell silent, and when I looked over, KO wasn’t smiling anymore. His jaw had locked tight, and his eyes were burning into me.
“When he was little,” he said underneath his breath, and my stomach dropped. I knew where this was going, and I wassuddenly regretting my last statement. “Yeah,” he said, voice low. “That’s the part right there that I can’t get past. You got five years of memories, and I ain’t got shit. You made me my parents.”
“KO.” My voice was barely above a whisper. I could barely speak through the guilt.
“I don’t know what his first laugh sounded like. Don’t know what he’s afraid of. Nothing. The one thing I swore I’d never be—a nigga with a kid out here he don’t know.” The room went quiet, and I just let him vent. Let him get it all out because he deserved to. “If you on some bullshit,”—his voice dropped—“and you let me get close to that kid . . .”—his fist balled—“you won’t get a chance to run this time. I promise you that.”
“I’m not lying.”
