His punches come in a rhythm that has no rhythm, just rage. His knuckles split open again, fresh blood mingling with Anderson’s, but he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t seem to feel it.
He’s not talking. Not screaming. Just hitting. Again. And again. And again.
I stumble to my feet, my body still shaking from before, and take a step toward him.
“Kai,” I say, my voice ragged. “Kai, stop it! You’re going to kill him!”
But he doesn’t even seem to hear me. He doesn’t seem tobe here.
I take another step. “Kai!” Louder this time. “He’s not worth it!”
Still nothing.
And then, suddenly, Christian and Liam are there. Rushing forward, grabbing him by the arms, dragging him back.
“Get off me!” Kai snarls, his voice cracking like glass, thrashing under their grip. He fights them hard, unhinged, desperate, but they hold on. Christian’s arms locked around his chest, Liam’s voice steady but strained.
“Kai, stop!Stop.He’s done. He’s done, man.”
But Kai’s still lunging, dragging them both a few inches forward like an animal caught in a trap. Like he has no choice.
Hehasto do this.
His eyes are wet. Not tears, not exactly, but there’s something spilling out of him at this very moment.
And then, all at once, his body collapses.
The fight drains from him in a single, shuddering breath, and he sinks to his knees in the grass, hunched and shaking. His hands—those beautiful, brilliant hands—hang limp in front of him, covered in blood.
Not just Anderson’s anymore.
His own, too.
And across from him, Anderson doesn’t move. He’s barely conscious.
Barely anything.
Just a stain on the lawn and a monster with a shattered face.
Christian and Liam are still holding onto Kai, even though he’s no longer fighting. They don’t let go. They just kneel beside him, one on each side, knowing if they loosen their grip, even a little, he might vanish entirely.
I watch them from where I stand, frozen.
And I can’t help but think Kai looks very much like a fallen angel at this moment.
Stripped of light. Ruined. Broken.
Because this is what I imagine it looks like—to watch a person lose their wings. When grief swallows a person whole. When anger hollows them out.
Kai doesn’t even cry. He just breathes. One slow, fractured inhalation at a time.
And it’s the most devastating thing I’ve ever seen.
But the boys beside him, his brothers in all but blood, hold him despite the burning. Despite the violence bleeding onto them.
Despite it all, they never once let him go.
THIRTY-NINE
