Kane (Toxic Hearts Club #2)

1. Prologue

Prologue

Kane

One. Two. Three…

I breathe in slowly as the lights flicker above me, trying my hardest not to make a peep.

Mama told me we’re playing the quiet game. You can’t make a sound, no matter what. The game’s over when the door opens and Mama comes to get me. She never wins the quiet game. Especially not when she has company.

Or when Daddy comes home.

“Cyd, please…” Her voice rumbles like an earthquake.

Four. Five. Six…

Daddy’s shadow stretches over me, over my feet. I steal a glance through the slats at Mama.

“Little birdie told me you been talking to the cops.”

Mama backs up, covering me with her shadow.

“What? Where did you hear that?” she asks, her voice still shaking.

Mama always says you can tell when an honest person’s lyin’ because they don’t talk right. Their voice wiggles because it's hard to tell a lie.

I think Mama’s lyin’, but why would she lie to Daddy?

He growls, and the sound of a smack echoes in the air. Mama yelps, her shadow wiggling like her voice.

She stumbles but doesn’t fall, even in those tippy shoes she wears. She backs up as he walks closer, and I can’t take my eyes off of him.

“I ain’t talk to no one, Cyd. You know that…”

“You lie like a fucking rug, Leah.”

Mama yelps as she stumbles forward, her shadow disappearing as Daddy lets out one of his wolfy growls. He does that when he’s mad. He must be mad ‘cause he knows Mama’s lyin’.

I search my brain, going over all the company we had this week. I don’t remember seeing no policeman, but Daddy is never wrong. Mama says even if I know the truth, Daddy’s always right.

Don’t ask questions if you don’t want your ass whooped, Kathan, baby.

Don’t see nothin’, don’t hear nothin’, don’t know nothin’.

Always.

Mama rarely calls me by my full name. ‘Less she’s telling me something important or she’s mad at me.

“You think those bastards are going to save you?” he snarls. “Like some damsel in distress?” His voice rises, making the hair on my arm stand at attention. Daddy’s got a big voice; the kind that booms and shakes the apples from the trees.

No one ever says no to Daddy. No one ever argues with him.

‘Cus they respect him, he says.

‘Cus they afraid of him, Mama says.

I wish I could be like him sometimes; wish I could be as big and powerful as him. But I’m not.

I’m small and my voice is soft, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get big like him…

Cyd… please…” Mama pleads, her voice wigglin’ an awful lot.

“You think some young buck fresh from the academy is gonna ride in here and rescue you?” He grabs her, his hand around her throat.

He does that a lot, especially when he’s mad.

Mama says it doesn’t hurt, but she always cries after, so I think it must hurt a little.

“From me?” He leers towards her, causing her to stumble backward, and my heart starts to race.

She’s so close I could touch her, and I want to.

I want to be next to her, but she hasn’t told me the game’s over yet.

“No, of course not. You’re talking crazy, I—”

“Think just because you open your legs for him he’s going to be your knight in shining armor?” His voice echoes in the space, rattling the slats. My breath catches in my throat.

“No, I—”

“Think just because he put a baby in you, he loves you and is gonna take care of you?” he snaps as Mama backs up against the closet. She’s so close, all I have to do is move over a smidge, but I can’t.

I’m frozen with fear.

“What b-baby?” she asks.

“Do you even know who he is? Or did you fuck every one in that dirty ass precinct like a little whore?”

“I didn’t… it’s not… like that, Cyd, I swear, I—”

“Cause’ we both know you aint fucking me anymore.”

He grabs her by the back of her hair and pulls her away from the closet, away from me. Mama whimpers, and my entire body feels like a block of ice.

“You think you are so smart, don’t you?” he growls. “Thought you could hide that baby in your belly, maybe even pretend it’s mine. Think I wouldn’t notice?”

She cries and he yells for her to answer him, but she doesn’t. She just keeps crying, and he just keeps yelling.

“All you had to do was keep your mouth shut, your legs closed, and your nose out of my fucking business!”

She gasps, choking out a garbled sound. I don’t understand what she’s saying. Daddy picks her up, but a moment later she’s back on the ground, choking; coughing.

Bleeding…

There is blood on her fingers, seeping into the carpet.

She answers him, her voice solid, not shaking at all.

“You took those women,” she says. “You killed them!”

Her voice pitches to a shrill as he picks her up, growling like a wolf.

His hand wraps around her throat again, and he lifts her off the ground so high, her feet dangle.

I watch them like shadow puppets, their darkness stretching beneath the bottom of the closet door, like they’re coming for me.

Mama cries, her voice so loud I think the neighbors can hear her.

Daddy brings her face to his, their lips so close I think they’re going to kiss and make up.

They do that sometimes—fight, throw things.

Call each other bad words and nasty names.

But they always kiss and make up. Mama says that’s what love is—a lotta kissing and making up.

But Daddy doesn’t kiss Mama.

Not tonight.

Instead, he spits in her face.

Mama looks up at him, and then he whispers something to her.

I can’t hear him, but whatever it is, makes her eyes widen, and then I hear a sharp slap echo in the air.

There’s a heavy thud a moment later. Mama tries to crawl away, towards the closet, towards me, but Daddy grabs her.

Her wild eyes find mine as he wrestles with her dress, shoving it up to show her behind.

She yelps as she tries to get away, but Daddy’s on top of her, and she can’t move so easily.

Another sharp smack sounds, followed by her relentless cries as Daddy wrestles with his pants.

“Close your eyes, Kathan, baby,” she whispers, her voice barely a sound.

I close my eyes, wanting to do as she says because I always do what she says when she calls me by my full name because I’m her best boy, she says.

Though, technically I’m her only boy, because I don’t have any sisters or brothers, but she says I’ll always be her best boy no matter what.

The darkness overcomes me as Daddy grunts out dirty words, as Mama cries and cries like the sadness inside her is eating her alive. Maybe it is.

Maybe she’s too honest and the lies taste too bitter, too sour.

The sound of the door opens and then there’s shouting. Footsteps. Daddy growls as a familiar voice rings out, “Put the gun down, Cydney. Step away from the woman, and we can talk about this…”

I want to open my eyes; if only to see where the familiar voice is coming from, who it belongs to. There’s a strange realization inside me, like I know I have heard it lots of times, but the way it sounds right now—commanding, sharp…

It’s different; scary even.

“I don’t have any time for talking, and neither do you, you prick,” Daddy says, his voice scarier than any monster. There’s a strange clicking sound and then Mama screams, “No! Don’t shoot him! It’s me, I’m the one you want!”

Voices bleed into each other; making it hard to tell what they’re saying clearly.

My eyes stay shut because I’m afraid of what I’ll see, what I’ll never be able to unsee.

But I’m also afraid that if I never open them, I might never see Mama or Daddy again.

The sound of another gunshot rings out, and Daddy growls his wolfy growl as someone shouts to cuff him, and someone else hollers, “You’re under arrest.” I hear Daddy spit, hear him call someone a bad name while an unfamiliar voice calls for someone else. Someone whose name I don’t remember.

“She’s bleeding out!” they say. Another voice screams for help while someone else yells, “The basement! Go now!”

“Kathan…” Mama whispers my name softly, like a prayer. She sounds far away. Like she’s underwater.

I know I should keep my eyes closed, but her voice, the faint whisper, is too much and my eyes flutter open. Her bright blue eyes stare back at me, darker than usual. Like the light in them has gone out; like the shadows have finally taken over for good.

“Mama…” I whisper, trying to keep my voice low. I want to move. Want to go to her, to touch her, but I…

I can’t.

“I love you, baby,” she says, her voice fading as her eyes shut.

I watch as the policeman forces Daddy outside, as men in dark suits with guns run into the house in all directions. My eyes fall onto Mama, in front of the slats. She lays there, still like a statue.

Like she’s playin’ dead.

“Mama…” I whisper, but she doesn't answer. Footsteps sound as someone kneels beside her, while the other moves over her, blocking my view.

“Where’s the kid?” someone asks.

“What kid?”

“You sure there’s a kid?” someone else says.

“Yeah. I’m positive.”

“Maybe he’s at a friend’s.”

The man who knows about me must be confused. I don’t have any friends. I haven’t even gone to school yet because Mama says it’s too dangerous, and I’m safer here, at home.

With her…

“Doubt it. He’s got to be here somewhere.”

“Unless the bastard killed him, too.”

Killed?

Somewhere inside, I know what’s happened, though I refuse to believe it.

Mama was just breathing… she was just bleeding… she’ll… she’ll be okay…

She’s always okay…

That man’s going to help her, I just know it.

Because that’s what policemen do. They help people.

A small squeak leaves my throat as the truth tries to wedge itself inside of me.

You hear that?” the sharp, masculine voice says.

Then a man turns to look directly at the closet.

At the slats. He’s a man I recognize; one of Mama’s friends.

His name is Jasper Carson, I think. He always brings me gummy bears when he visits.

He and Mama spend a lot of time together, mostly at night when Daddy isn’t here.

Though Jasper isn’t dressed like he usually is when I see him. He’s got more clothes on, for one; but these clothes look different. Like a uniform. Like a…

Police uniform. And he’s holding a gun.

Did he shoot Mama?

Did he kill her?

He points his gun at the closet.

At me.

“Someone in the closet,” he says.

“Detective, we’ve got something down here!” someone shouts.

But Jasper doesn’t answer. He keeps his gun on me and I can’t look away, staring at the barrel like it’s a black hole about to swallow me up.

My leg feels wet and warm, and my heart is racing.

I think he’s going to shoot me.

Part of me wants him to. Because if he shot Mama…

Then I can be like her.

We can be together. Forever.

The door opens and light pours in, blinding me.

Is this the light Mama talks about? The one you see before you die?

I don’t know. All I know is something smells horrible, my pants are wet, and I feel tears pouring down my face and I can barely see a thing.

Where is Daddy?

Where did he go?

Did he leave me here, alone?

“Fucking hell,” Jasper says. “How long have you been in there?” he asks, but I can’t seem to find my voice. Heavy footsteps sound up the stairs, racing with urgency.

“Got three bodies, boss.”

Bodies? In my house? I don’t understand.

But there’s a part of me that does, I think. They said bodies.

Large arms pick me up, and I feel my body shake. The light fades to shadow and shadow fades to light as Jasper’s familiar scent fills my lungs. More warmth spreads in my undies and I’m suddenly very cold. Shivering, almost.

“Kane,” he says, his voice softer, almost a whisper. “It’s okay. It’s me, Jasper.”

My eyes tighten, tears pouring down them.

“I’m here, now everything’s going to be okay. Open your eyes,” Jasper says, but I can’t. Mama said I needed to keep them closed, and I didn’t listen. I need to listen now.

I need to be her best boy, if it’s the last thing I do…

I shake my head. “Mama said no… no matter what,” I squeak.

“Social worker’s here,” someone says.

Jasper holds me closer to his chest.

He smells like alcohol, cigarettes, coffee, and musky cologne. It’s both nauseating and comforting at the same time.

“No,” he says. “Leslie, I can’t let them—”

“You have to, Jas,” she says. “You’re not his father, and with his mother—”

“I don’t care,” Jasper says, and I can’t help but cry. People are still yelling, and something smells like smoke. I think I’m going to be sick.

“Detective Carson, with all do respect,” someone else chimes in, but Jasper’s grip on me tightens.

“I promised her,” he growls, but his growl isn’t like Daddy’s. It’s deeper. “I fucking promised her I would not let him disappear into the system, and I will be damned to let that fucking sperm donor Cydney Rose anywhere near him, blood or no blood.”

“And if we do our job, Detective, he won’t,” she says.

Jasper holds me tight, and I feel his heartbeat against my cheek. Fast, like a race car.

“It’s Kane,” he says solidly. “His name is Kane.” I feel Jasper’s gaze on me, hot like fire.

“It’s what he likes to be called. Isn’t that right, Kane?

“I want my Mama,” I cry.

“Fucking hell,” Jasper says. “I’m sorry, buddy, but your mama—”

“Jasper,” the woman yells, her voice full of worry. “Maybe you should let the social worker—”

“No.” He says plainly. “No, he needs to hear this from someone he knows.”

Jasper’s lips brush the outer edge of my ear.

“Your mama’s safe now,” he whispers. But his voice wiggles.

Mama isn’t safe.

She’ll never be safe.

Because she’s dead, and we’ll never be together again.