by Zoey Parker
“How are you so sure?” Kira asked.
“Because it’s one of you. Either you’re hurting your child, or your husband is. Since I’ve decided you’re not guilty, there’s one simple solution. Your ex has done something to hurt little…what’s his name?”
“Lucian,” Kira answered.
“Little Lucian,” Milton said, grimacing a little. “I’ll make sure he makes it home. Just give me a few days and I’ll find something.”
“I just don’t understand,” Kira said, cradling her head in her hands. “Larry has never done anything like this before. Why would he just suddenly start hurting Lucian? He loves his son…or so I thought.”
“It’s money,” Milton said, shaking his head sadly. “It’s always about money. For some reason Lucian is making him a profit, and he’s not going to give it up until he gets caught. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Just keep yourself distracted and I’ll figure it out. Okay? Stay strong.”
Before Kira could come up with anything to say in response, the lawyer got to his feet and knocked on the door. A guard appeared an opened it to let him out into the hallway. Kira remained in her seat, unsure of what to do. She breathed hard as she reflected on the words that Milton said before he left the room.
But before Kira could figure out how she felt about that interaction, another figure appeared through the door, stepping into the room and sitting down in front of her. Brent.
“What are you doing here?” Kira asked, the words spilling out without permission from her brain. She regretted them as soon as they were released, but she couldn’t exactly take them back, so she forced herself to put on a calm, undisturbed face.
“I’m here to help you,” Brent said. He looked a little taken aback by her question. “Milton’s my lawyer. Well, he’s the lawyer of….this organization that I’m a part of.”
“The motorcycle club?” Kira asked, her tone coming out uncharacteristically hard and sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “The Soul Catchers, was it?”
Brent paled in front of her, looking like the blood drained from his face all at once. “Yes,” he whispered in response. He cleared his throat as he adjusted in his seat, pulling himself closer to the table. “That’s my club.”
“Your club?” Kira repeated back to him.
“Yes,” Brent replied, still not looking at her directly. “It’s a gang, really. We do a lot of… extracurricular activity in and around this town. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I meant to, but…” He trailed off and waved his hand in the air futilely for a few seconds before letting it drop down to his lap
Kira cleared her throat a couple times before speaking, struggling to summon up the will to force the words out of her mouth, even though she knew she had no other choice. “I can’t…I can’t be with a criminal,” she said. Her body flushed with heat like she’d said something awful. “I just can’t.”
Brent was silent for a long moment, finally nodding along with her words, his eyes still focused on her own lap. “I get that. I should have told you earlier. I meant to, but…I just got distracted. I’m sorry. I really am.”
Kira didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t feel like she deserved an apology, but she still wished that Brent had told her earlier, that he had told her as soon as they met, so that she could have avoided this horrible situation entirely. “It’s okay,” she finally whispered, unsure if she was talking to herself or to the man in front of her.
Brent’s eyes darted back up to meet Kira’s gaze, burning with some emotion that made her body heat up even more, her blood pumping faster within her veins even though she was sitting perfectly still. “Is it really?” he whispered. “Is it okay, Kira?”
Kira was quiet for a moment, choking on her own words, before she finally stuttered out, “No. Yes. I don’t know. I didn’t know you were in a gang until yesterday. I don’t know how to react, okay? Give me a break.”
Brent nodded. His eyes dropped back down to the table, darting back and forth like he was furiously struggling to come up with something to say. “That’s fair,” he finally said. He cleared his throat and pressed one arm down on the table in between them, reaching out towards Kira. Kira looked down at his hand, unsure of what to do. She took too long to make her decision, apparently, as Brent pulled his hand back a few seconds later, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be honest with you.”
“That’s a change for you,” Kira said without thinking. She must have felt more bitter than she realized at first, as she felt a weird sense of satisfaction at the shameful look that crossed Brent’s face. I am mad, she realized. Her heart felt like a ball of fire burning its way through her ribcage. I’m mad that he lied to me by omission, never telling me what he did at night. He never trusted me. Why should I trust him?
“I’ve done some bad things,” Brent admitted. He sighed and scooted closer to the table. “But I’m not a bad man.”
“How can I know that?” Kira asked. “I don’t know anything about you, not really, other than how you like to be fucked. Why am I supposed to believe you now?”
“Because I’m here trying to help you,” Brent argued. “I’m here for you, Kira. What else matters?”
“Everything else about you!” Kira said back, her voice barely below a shout. She let her head hang low between her shoulders, no longer having the energy to lift her eyes to meet Brent’s. “You could be a fucking murderer and I wouldn’t know the difference. You never let me in. Not even once.”
“I know,” Brent said, his tone increasingly pleading and desperate. “I know. I fucked up. I should have told you sooner. I should have told you right away, right when we met. But I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you?” Kira asked.
“I was afraid,” Brent said. His eyes flashed back up to meet Kira’s. “I thought you would judge me. Not that I didn’t deserve it, but was I wrong? Aren’t you judging me now?”
Kira felt her face flush with heat and her eyes fell back down to the table. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, shaking her head, more at herself than at Brent. “I don’t know what to think. My whole world has been turned upside down over the past few days. What am I supposed to think about anything? My ex-husband is apparently scheming to lock me up. Even though I’ve hated him for years, I never expected that for even a moment. Apparently my powers of judgment aren’t that sharp. So what am I supposed to think about you?” She shrugged, feeling weighed down by the burden of her own ignorance. She was so fucking stupid. So foolish to think that she could ever have a nice, peaceful life.
“I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me,” Brent said, earnestly enough that Kira forced herself to look up from her lap to meet his eyes. “But believe me, I wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you. Or Lucian. You’re both…you’re so important. More important than I was willing to admit at first, but it’s true. You’re in my life now. I can’t let you go.”
Kira felt a thousand emotions battle each other, trying to climb their way up her throat to be voiced. But she swallowed them all back and glued her gaze to the blank grey floor beneath her feet, praying for the strength to be reasonable. “You’re a criminal,” she said stiffly, fighting to keep her voice steady and calm despite how much his own words affected her mere moments before. She felt like Brent had reached into her chest and wrapped a metal fist around her heart, squeezing the blood out little by little, making her feel like all of her strength was leaking out of her body, more and more with each passing second.
“I’m more than that,” Brent said softly. His voice sounded so sincere that Kira had to look back to meet his eyes, which were full of an emotion that hit her right in the chest. “I might be a criminal, but I’m a man, too.”
“A good man or a bad man?” Kira asked, genuinely not knowing the answer.
“I don’t know,” Brent answered. “I really don’t. I guess that’s for you to decide. But I will be honest with you. I have feelings for
you.”
“Feelings?” Kira asked. Her heart pounded even harder within her throat, all of her veins pulsing with excess energy as she considered Brent’s words.
Brent scoffed a little at himself. He turned his head to avert his eyes from Kira’s, staring at the closed door opposite the table. “I love you,” he whispered. “That’s what I meant to say, okay? I love you, Kira.”
Kira’s heart seemed to freeze in her chest. “What?” she whispered in response. She thought she could hear her own blood rushing through her ears.
“I love you,” Brent said, this time turning to look her directly in the eyes, his own pair full of an emotion that made her feel like she was staring into the sun. “I really do, Kira.”
Kira was speechless, utterly breathless for what felt like an eternity, her lungs practically aching as she stared across at Brent, searching his face for any sign of deception.
“I do,” Brent said again. He swallowed visibly without breaking eye contact with Kira. “I mean it.”
“I’m not…sure,” Kira whispered back, the words seeped from her lips like air leaving a punctured tire. “I’m not sure I know what to say to that,” she said honestly.
“Just be honest,” Brent said, even though his face was covered with worry. “Please. Just tell me if you feel differently. I’ll still help you, I promise.”
Kira’s answer caught in her throat, and for a long moment they just stared at each other, unsure of what to say. “I don’t know how I feel anymore,” Kira said honestly. “I thought I felt…” She let herself trail off, afraid of what was going to come out of her mouth.
“I get it,” Brent said a little too quickly. He scooted his chair back from the table so that there was more distance between them before he got to his feet.
“Wait, Brent—” Kira started to say, but Brent cut her off with a hand in the air.
“No, don’t worry about it,” Brent said in a stiff, curt tone of voice. “I’ll still help out. It’s okay.”
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t—” Kira said, but again Brent cut her off, shaking his head before she could finish her sentence.
“No, it’s okay, really,” Brent said. He cleared his throat as he stood up to his full height, offering her a weak smile. “Don’t even stress about it. I’ll take care of it, okay? I’ll take care of all of it.”
Kira struggled to come up with anything to say, weakly sighing out as Brent exited the room, leaving her alone with her handcuffs.
“Well, shit,” she said out loud. She let her head sag down to the table and pressed her forehead down hard onto the cold metal. It was what she deserved, after all. She’d let her whole life fall apart, and right when there was an opportunity to save it, she was too afraid to reach out and grab it. She was weak. Kira had secretly always known that about herself, but there was no denying it now. I’m fucked, she thought as the guard walked back in to undo her handcuffs. I’m totally fucking fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brent
Brent stormed out of the jail, breathing hard as if he’d just sprinted through the building. He hopped on his bike and took off onto the road against the protests of the MC members who were waiting for him. He couldn’t waste any more time. He had to take care of his family, no matter the cost.
Brent was halfway down the highway before he realized where he was going. The lawyer had given him the address of where Larry, Kira’s ex, lived. He knew it wasn’t the smartest decision, rushing there without any witnesses, but he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. It was all that asshole’s fault—Lucian’s bruises, his nightmares, Kira’s arrest, all of it. Brent couldn’t stand to live in a world without consequences. Even if he himself had to suffer alone for the rest of eternity, he couldn’t stand the idea of Kira suffering the same fate. She needed to have Lucian back, as soon as possible, and Brent was going to win him back for her, no matter the cost.
Why am I doing this? Brent wondered as he raced even faster down the road, speeding up as he took the final corner towards Larry’s house. She doesn’t love me. She doesn’t give a single fuck. Somehow, even when he repeated that thought to himself again and again, it didn’t seem to have the expected effect. He didn’t stop caring about Kira. It didn’t matter if she didn’t care about him, if she didn’t care if he lived or died. Brent cared about her, and that was all that mattered.
He finally skidded to a stop on the edge of Larry’s neighborhood, barely waiting for his engine to cut off before he hopped off his bike and broke into a run towards Larry’s house, his lungs burning with the exertion of his muscles as he pushed his legs as fast as they could go.
Brent slowed down when he saw the house number, careful not to press his feet down too hard on the fallen leaves as he approached Larry’s house, his heart thudding against his ribcage. What am I going to do? Brent thought to himself. His tongue was going as dry as sawdust as he weighed his options. He couldn’t exactly barge into the house, at least not without expecting to be shot straight away.
As he was debating his course of action, a sudden high-pitched scream tore Brent away from his thoughts. “Ahhh! Noooo!” a small voice shouted from the other side of Larry’s house. Brent broke into a run, dashing towards the origin of the sound. He crawled over the line of bushes to make it to the backyard.
Standing there in the center of the back lawn, dressed only in a pair of white undies, was Lucian, crying his eyes out. “Come here, you little shit!” an angry voice shouted from the other side of the yard. Brent turned around to see a grown man brandishing a knife.
“Whoa, what the fuck?” Brent said. He stepped in between the man and the little boy. “What’s going on here?”
Larry came to a stop, panting for breath and still holding out the knife, which gleamed in the sunlight. “Stand aside,” Larry said between clenched teeth.
“What the hell are you doing?” Brent asked. He spread his arms out as a shield to keep Larry away from his sobbing son.
“Get the fuck out of the way!” Larry shouted, waving his knife around in Brent’s face.
Brent’s heart picked up in his chest, beating like a drum, but he felt weirdly calm, everything slowing down around him as he spread his body out as far as it could go, creating a stronger barrier between Larry and Lucian. “You’re not touching this boy,” he said. He was strangely calmly despite the circumstances. “Not again. Not anymore.”
“He’s my fucking son,” Larry spat. His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m his family,” Brent said, and he knew as soon as the words left his mouth that they were the truth. “I’m not going to let you hurt him. Back off now, while you still have a chance. I won’t run after you if you go right now.”
Larry scoffed and laughed a little. He turned his head to the side for a second before his whole body launched forward, driving into Brent’s body so forcefully that he was almost knocked entirely off his feet. Luckily, Brent was able to keep his balance and immediately buried his fist into Larry’s stomach, forcing him across the lawn, away from the little boy who was still whimpering and crying behind them.
“You’re. Not. Touching. This. Child,” Brent sad in between punches. He swept his leg out to kick Larry in the crotch, forcing him to fall to the ground. His knife clattered out of his hands. Brent didn’t waste any time. He reached down to grab the weapon and held it to his opponent’s face. “Stay put. Stay fucking put, you pervert!” he screamed as he slowly backed away from Lucian’s father. He reached into his pocket to grab his phone while still holding the knife firmly in his other hand.
“Mr. Barkley!” Lucian called out from behind him. He was still sobbing loudly, but a little less hysterically than he had minutes before.
“I’m coming, Lucian,” Brent promised, calling over his shoulder. Then he refocused his attention on the man in front of him. “Hello?” he said into the phone as soon as someone picked up on the other end. “Yes, please come to 112 O
akhurst Drive, as soon as you can. A man is hurting a young child. Get here as soon as you can.”
“Brent! Please!” Lucian called from behind him, sniffling in between the words.
Brent backed up, keeping his eyes on Larry, until he collided softly with Lucian, tucking the little boy under his arm, shielding him with his body. “Hey. Hey, it’s going to be okay. It’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“How do you know?” Lucian asked. He reached down to grab Brent’s free hand.
He didn’t know what to say at first, so he just squeezed the little boy’s hand as reassuringly as he could. When the sound of police sirens appeared over their heads, he sighed in relief. “I’m going to protect you, Lucian,” Brent said softly.
