“That ain’t?—”
“You hated me. I saw it in your eyes.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “And you had every right to.” The room went quiet except for the storm outside and Dakoda making little punching noises near the ring. “I found out about him four weeks later,” she said softly. “By then, everything was already ruined.” My eyes slid toward the kid again. My son. The shit still didn’t sound real in my head. “I kept thinking eventually I’d come back,” she admitted. “Then days turned into months. Months turned into years and . . .” She shook her head. “At some point, I convinced myself staying away was better than ruining your life again.”
I dragged a hand over my face slowly. That shit shouldn’t have made sense to me, but some fucked up part of me understood it anyway.
“You still should’ve told me,” I muttered.
“I know.”
I turned away from her. I needed space to process this shit. I paced once across the floor, sitting with the reality of all this. Five whole years, and she was standing here like this shit wasn’t crazy.
“Why now?” I asked, and she blinked.
“What?”
“All this time, you’ve been gone.” I shook my head. “Now you’re here. In my building, of all places. With a fucking kid.”
“I didn’t plan this?—”
“Don’t lie,” I shot. “Who sent you?”
“I’m not. Nobody sent me,” she said quickly. “We just needed a safe place to wait out the storm.” I stared at her, and I mean really stared, and the worst part was that I believed her ass, and I hated that shit.
“Daddy, look!” the kid said, and my head turned before I could stop it. Dakoda was moving around the ring, circling it with his little fists up like he was fighting. It was like he already knew my world. I stared at him for too long, noting the way he moved, the way he bounced on his feet. He was a natural.Damn. My son?This shit still didn’t feel real. But it didn’t feel fake either.
“You really weren’t gon’ tell me?” I turned to Lyrius, never taking my eyes off Dakoda.
“I never hid you from him,” she replied. “He knows who you are. He has pictures of you. We watch your fights together.”
“That ain’t the same thing.”
“I know.”
“I missed everything.” I dragged a hand over my face. “His first steps. First words. Birthdays. All that shit.” I shook my head. “Gone.”
“I know.” Her eyes watered again, and the silence stretched between us while Dakoda climbed onto the ropes like he owned the damn ring.
“I want a DNA test. ASAP,” I said finally.
“Okay.” She didn’t hesitate. That hit harder than I expected it to.
“I’m sorry, Dakota,” she said, and I didn’t say anything. “I loved you. That part was never fake.” My jaw tightened. “I don’t regret having our son. He was made out of love. But I’m sorry I decided without you. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the organization. I’m sorry for taking five years from you that I can’tgive back.” I didn’t say anything, just stared at her. “I knowsorrydon’t fix it,” she continued. “I know I don’t deserve your understanding, but know that I’ve carried what I did with me every day since that day. I’ve never stopped loving you, Dakota.”
“Don’t.” My voice came out cold as fuck. “You lost the right to call me Dakota five years ago. It’s KO,” I said just as the lights flickered and everything went dark, and the storm got louder.
“Mama?” Dakoda called from the ring.
“I’m right here, baby.”
I moved on instinct, grabbed the flashlight off the table, and clicked it on. The beam instantly cut through the dark. I found the kid first, then her. They were both looking at me like I could make the lights come back on. I blew out a deep breath.
“Powers out,” I said as the wind howled outside. It was banging against the boards like it was trying to get in.
“Is the storm going to get inside?” Dakoda scurried out of the ring and wrapped his arms around his mama’s legs.
“No, Dae-Dae, we’re safe.” Lyrius comforted him, and I didn’t say anything, just stood there shining the flashlight on them. I was stuck, because for me, the storm was already inside.
The beam of KO’s flashlight cut through the dark and landed on us. For a second, nobody moved. The storm screamed outside, and the rain threw itself against the building hard enough to make the walls groan.
