Page 38 of Kane
Mike wheeled to the refrigerator and pulled out a plate covered in Saran Wrap. He lifted up on one heel to stick it in the microwave and hit the start button, then sat back down to watch the plate spin around on the revolving tray.
“I guess you’re right, but it doesn’t change the fact he manipulated the circumstances to his advantage. He never wanted you and Kane together. Thought he was beneath you, like he thought my dad was beneath your mom.”
The timer went off, and he lifted up again to pull out the plate. He placed it on his lap, then grabbed a fork from the drawer and delivered it to her.
Under the cellophane, she spotted two chicken legs, some mashed potatoes, and corn. Her stomach gurgled.
“Eat,” he chided.
She pulled off the covering and moved the food around with her fork. It smelled amazing. “You’re right. My dad doesn’t do anything out of the goodness of his heart.” Look at the price she had to pay for his help with the company. Though she had no intention of sharing those details with her brother.
She blew on a forkful of steaming potatoes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Kane and I are both different people now.” Carefully, she slid the creamy bite into her mouth.
“For a smart woman, you sure are stupid sometimes.” Mike shot her a patronizing look. “It’s still Kane. He’s still the same guy.”
Mike couldn’t really be so naïve. She grunted as she swallowed her food. “The Kane I was with would never have joined a biker gang. He hated everything about it. He wanted to be an investment banker, for crying out loud. Now he’s right there, living the life with his asshole brother and misogynist father. He lives outside of society. If those things don’t make him a different man, I don’t know what would.”
His face softened. “Talk to him. God, sis, you owe him that much.”
“Yeah.” She took a few more bites, but she barely tasted her meal anymore. “I need a copy of Josh’s birth certificate. Kane saw him tonight; he thinks he’s ours.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “His reaction couldn’t have been pretty.”
The food no longer held any appeal. “It wasn’t.” Exhaustion was a crushing weight on her shoulders. “You mind if I crash here tonight?” Tomorrow was Saturday; it wasn’t like she had to go to work.
She didn’t wait for an answer. Depositing her dish in the sink, she stumbled to the guest room and crashed face-first onto the bed.
She dreamed of kissing away Kane’s scars in his hospital bed, a life free of her father, and a baby with dark brown hair and green eyes who she could call her own.
***
Kane
Kane squinted against the rays of afternoon sun burning his retinas. Though he wore a pair of durable sunglasses, a night with little-to-no sleep had left him sensitive to the light.
He couldn’t find any holes in Mandy’s story about the kid he’d seen on Mike’s porch, but he also couldn’t dismiss the possibility it was all a lie. Maybe a part of himwantedit to be a lie.
The idea of a child of his own—a son—did something to his insides he couldn’t bring himself to examine all at once. There was hope there, but also anger and a deep sense of betrayal. Surprising, since he thought Mandy had already dicked him over as much as one person ever could.
The blaring horn from a car behind him shook him out of his thoughts. The light had turned green. With a sigh, he lifted his hand in recognition before resuming his course to the seedier part of town.
Gone were the streets lined with Wal-Marts and Applebee’s. Now he passed small houses long ago repurposed as various businesses. One was faded pink with a rusted air conditioning unit in the front window and a wooden sign advertising a psychic inside. The one next to it was blue with a yard made of mostly short weeds and dirt claiming to be a daycare. A “KinderKare,” according to the stenciled letters next to the door.
Some of the houses looked like they’d been abandoned for years. A couple showed evidence of fire; one had no roof at all. Then, an old service station…an overgrown lot with a threadbare sofa on its side and two bald tires…and finally, his destination.
He shuddered as he pulled up to the massive apartment complex. It was the same place where Scott had dragged him all those years ago. The place where a wannabe gangbanger carved a fucking ravine across one side of his face. The place where life as he knew it came to a screeching halt.
He parked next to his brother’s Dyna Low Rider and tried to ignore the burned-out shell of Building D as he walked past. After all these years, no one had touched a thing; it was left like a macabre monument to the families who died inside. Or maybe no one had the money or the motivation to fix it.
Rubbing over the scar on his cheek, he ambled to Building E, projecting a nonchalance as real as a three-dollar bill. The last thing he needed was for anyone to smell blood in the water.
The door opened before he had the chance to knock. He didn’t recognize the guy who waved him in, but he looked young enough to be in high school, dark skin, hair cropped close to his scalp, jeans, and a T-shirt. But his eyes were older, and the handle of a handgun peeked from his waistband.
He pushed down his misgivings and followed the sound of his brother’s voice.
“—won’t be any problem at all. We have the men to keep the business running and a reputation guaranteed to give anyone second thoughts before they try to fuck us out of our money.” Scott wore his cockiest smile as he talked up the club to a black guy in his mid-fifties wearing an impeccable gray three-piece suit over an open-collared black dress shirt.
The man traced the thin beard along his jaw with the back of his fingers. “Very good, Mr. Hale, because if we go into business together, your money is our money.” He turned to a small entourage of three men behind him. “Jay, what do you think?”