12. KAISEN #3
Amai’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I laughed, and the sound was bitter. “I know Yahmaria. I know how she operates. And I know that the moment Truth finds out about her, everything you’ve built with her is going to crumble.”
“Truth is stronger than you think.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, the movement sending fresh pain through my side. “But even strong women have breaking points. And when she reaches hers—when she realizes you’ve been keeping this from her, when she feels betrayed and lied to and manipulated—who do you think she’s going to turn to?”
Amai stared at me, his expression unreadable.
“Not you,” he said finally. “She’ll never turn to you.”
“We’ll see.”
“No.” Amai stood slowly, deliberately. “We won’t see shit. Because you’re going to die in that hole.”
The words were matter-of-fact. Not a threat. A statement of intent.
“You can’t keep me here forever,” I said, but even I could hear the bullshit in my voice. He wouldn’t think twice about letting me die here if it kept me away from Truth.
“Can’t I?” Amai looked down at me, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that genuinely terrified me.
Not rage. Not hatred.
Certainty.
“I can’t afford for you to hurt her again, Kaisen.” His voice was soft, almost sad. “I can’t allow it. You violated her. You used her body without her consent. You made decisions about her life, her child, her future—and you did it all behind her back.”
“So did you,” I shot back. “So did Winston. We all—”
“What?” Amai cut me off.
“You know I don’t have the pull to get Dr. Beaumont to do no shit like include my sperm in the insemination.
It was Dad! He didn’t think you had what it takes to make a baby, so he included mine.
He probably figured since I’m the reason you had a surrogate in the first place that my punishment was supposed to be you raising my kid. ”
“Fuck! I know we’re all guilty. But the difference is, I’m trying to make it right. I’m trying to give her agency, choice, control over her own life.”
“By burying me alive? You don’t get to say agency with dirt on your hands and a woman locked behind your security system.”
“By removing the threat.” He crouched down again, his face level with mine. “You’re dangerous, Kaisen. Not because you’re violent or cruel. But because you’re desperate. And desperate men do desperate things. But don’t worry. I’m on your daddy ass too now. You’ll get some company real soon.”
My watch buzzed.
Sent.
Relief flooded through me, so intense I almost gasped.
The message had gone through.
Winston knew where I was.
Winston was coming.
I just had to keep Amai talking. Keep him here. Keep the lid open long enough for help to arrive.
“You’re right,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I am desperate. Desperate to have what you’ve always had. Desperate to be seen as something other than the fuckup who got our brothers killed. Desperate to prove that I’m worthy of having a family, a legacy, a life that matters.”
Amai’s expression softened slightly. “Kaisen—”
“And yeah, I went about it the wrong way,” I continued, the words coming faster now. “I should’ve been honest with Truth from the start. I should’ve told her what Winston did. I should’ve given her the choice instead of manipulating the situation to my advantage.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I’m a Landry.” I met his eyes. “Because we were raised to take what we want, to manipulate and control and dominate. Because Winston taught us that honesty is weakness and vulnerability is death.”
Amai was quiet for a long moment.
“He taught us wrong,” he said finally.
“Maybe.” I shifted again, trying to ease the pressure on my stitches. “But it’s the only way we know.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Doesn’t it?” I laughed bitterly. “Look at us, Amai. Look at what we’ve become. You’ve got me buried in a concrete hole. We’re both monsters. We’re both exactly what Winston made us.”
“No.” Amai’s voice was firm. “We’re more than that. We can be more than that.”
“Can we?” I held his gaze. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like we’re just repeating the same patterns. The same violence. The same manipulation. The same—”
My watch buzzed.
I glanced down instinctively—a mistake.
Amai’s eyes followed the movement.
His expression changed.
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice suddenly sharp.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” He leaned forward, trying to see my wrist. “What’s on your watch?”
I pulled my arm back, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.
Amai’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen.
And his entire body went rigid.
“She’s leaving,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What?”
“Truth.” He stood abruptly, his attention completely diverted from me. “She’s fucking leaving.”
He looked down at his phone again, his thumb moving rapidly across the screen.
I couldn’t see what he was reading, but I could see the panic in his eyes.
“No,” he muttered. “No, no, no!”
He turned away from the hole, pacing, his free hand running through his hair.
This was my chance.
While he was distracted, I looked down at my watch.
A new message from Winston:
On my way.
Three words.
Three words that meant everything.
Hope surged through me, bright and fierce.
I was going to get out of here.
I was going to survive.
And when I did—
“I have to go.” Amai’s voice cut through my thoughts.
He kicked the bags down the hole.
He was moving toward the steel lid, preparing to close it.
“Wait—” I started, but he wasn’t listening.
“Water, food, gauze, Tylenol,” he said, his voice distant, distracted. “There’s enough for a few days. Maybe longer if you ration it.”
“Amai—”
“I’ll be back.” He grabbed the edge of the lid. “Or I won’t. Depends on whether I can fix this.”
“Fix what?” I demanded, but I already knew.
Truth was leaving him.
Truth was taking back her agency, her choice, her control.
And Amai was losing his mind.
“She can’t leave,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “She can’t—I need to—”
He started pulling the lid closed.
Darkness began to creep back in, swallowing the light inch by inch.
“AMAI!” I screamed, panic clawing at my throat. “DON’T—”
But he wasn’t listening.
The lid scraped across the concrete, the sound deafening in the confined space.
The light narrowed to a sliver.
The lid slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
But this time, I wasn’t alone in it.
This time, I had hope.
Winston was coming.
And when he arrived, when he pulled me out of this concrete tomb, Amai was going to learn what it meant to truly go to war with a Landry.
Because I wasn’t the fuckup anymore.
I wasn’t the disappointment.
I was the man who survived being buried alive.
And I was coming for everything Amai thought was his.