Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Booker
I want to dive into this relationship headfirst, but I have to pump the brakes because Kendall needs time to figure out who she is outside of the chaos—both as a woman and a mother.
She’s struggling with the idea of Kolter heading to the schoolhouse.
Hell, she had a minor breakdown the day after we brought him back from Slayer’s, convinced she was failing as a mom just because we went on a date the day after he was rescued from that hellhole.
Kolter just rolled his eyes and told her to chill.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at his kid-like behavior, but Kendall took it as a sign she was being too overbearing.
It took me an hour of talking her down to get her to see that the kid is just tasting freedom for the first time.
He’s trying to find his legs, same as her.
Kolter and I eventually teamed up and won that battle. He’s starting his first day, but Kendall is a ball of nerves as we walk toward the school.
“Are you positive we’re doing the right thing?” she asks, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
I lace my fingers with hers, giving her hand a firm squeeze. “We are, Kendall. You have to let him find his own way.”
“He doesn’t need to find a way out,” she counters. “He needs to stay right where I can see him.”
I nudge her shoulder with mine, a small smirk playing on my lips. “Mama bear is out in full force today.”
“I can’t help it, Booker. I just got him back. I’m not ready to let go yet,” she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.
“Look at him, though,” I say, nodding toward the boy. “He’s been skipping since we left the clubhouse. He needs to be around other kids, babe. He needs to learn so he can grow up to be his own man. Can’t do that if he’s stuck inside all day.”
As soon as the porch comes into view, Kolter breaks into a full sprint. He leaps onto the wood with a heavy thud that echoes through the yard. He spins around to face us, his face split by a grin so big it actually looks like it belongs on a kid.
He throws his arms out and screams at the top of his lungs, “I’m finally going to school!” It’s the sound of pure, unfiltered joy.
Kendall stops in her tracks, her grip tightening on my hand as she watches him bounce. He isn't a soldier or a victim right now—he’s just a boy who’s excited to learn. I see the tears welling in her eyes, but she’s smiling. She looks at me, and I know she’s finally giving in.
“You ready for this, son?” she asks, trying to blink back the mist blurring her vision.
Kolter’s eyes are practically glowing. “I’ve been ready since the sun came up!
” he shouts, vibrating with enough energy to power the whole compound.
“I’m gonna learn it all. Reading, math, maybe even history.
Real school stuff.” He takes another little leap, his excitement catching like wildfire.
It’s wild to see him like this. A few days ago, he was a ball of fear hiding from the world.
Now, he’s practically leaping out of his skin.
“He’s a whole different kid today,” I mutter to Kendall, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“He’s just a child,” she whispers back, her gaze locked on him.
“Finally.” We enter the converted double-wide.
The place has been scrubbed within an inch of its life, smelling of lemon cleaner and fresh paint.
It’s a clean scent that has nothing to do with the stale rot of the catacombs I usually visit.
He looks back one last time, a grin plastered on his face. “See you guys later!” He yells it over his shoulder and vanishes into the hallway before we can even get a word out.
“I don’t think so, mister!” Kendall shouts, letting go of my hand to chase after him.
I throw my head back and let out a roar of laughter as I follow them inside. Kendall is a few steps ahead, catching Kolter just as he hits the main corridor. She reaches out and settles a hand on his shoulder, slowing him down, but she doesn't stop him. She just wants him to know she’s there.
The hallway is quiet, and I notice it’s a tight squeeze with my shoulders.
Kolter stands tall in the silence. He doesn't shrink away like he used to.
He just stands there, soaking in the peace of a place that finally belongs to him.
Kendall whispers something private to him, and he nods, his face full of quiet, steady determination.
Jersey is leaning against the counter in the small kitchen area. She doesn't move, but she keeps a sharp eye on Kolter at the fold-out table where she set up an activity for him to start on while she prepares for the day’s lessons.
“So, while I get today’s lessons together for you, I thought you’d like to do a little experiment,” Jersey says, walking over to Kolter. “You’re going to be making a volcano erupt!”
“Show me what to do, please,” Kolter replies. She quickly explains what he needs to do, and informs him that he has to pour the liquid into the top fast or the experiment won’t work and there won’t be any lava.
Kolter’s now hunched over a clay mountain on a plastic tray.
He’s holding a cup of white vinegar like it’s liquid gold, his expression full of the intense focus only a child can muster.
He’s staring at the red-stained baking soda, mesmerized.
His fingers are twitching, like he’s dying to touch the mess.
He steadies his breathing, centering himself over the clay mound, picking the cup up with both hands. “Is it going to get on the floor?” he asks, his voice small but curious as he checks the edge of the tray, making sure the plastic will catch the overflow just like he was told.
“If it does, we’ve got a mop,” Jersey tells him.
Kolter tilts the cup, pouring the vinegar right over the powder.
A second later, red foam erupts, fizzing down the clay with a steady hiss.
A gasp of pure surprise leaves him. In that moment, the shadow of the boy we pulled from that basement vanishes.
He’s just a five-year-old captivated by the magic of science.
In the doorway, Kendall finally lets go of the frame.
She isn't scanning for exits or danger anymore—her focus is entirely on her son.
I step up behind her, resting a palm on the small of her back.
The heat radiating through her shirt steadies me.
It feels like we can finally breathe, the smoke and fear finally clearing out of our lungs.
I look at Kolter. He’s leaning over the table, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he waits for the last of the foam to stop. “Can I do it again?” he asks, the pitch of his voice making my chest ache.
Jersey pushes off the counter, her footsteps soft on the linoleum.
“Do it as many times as you’d like, Kolter, while I work on getting the lessons for today sorted.
” She looks at us and says, “Based on how excited he is, I suspect he’ll be locked in on this project for quite some time.
Glad to see he’s taking the lesson seriously. ”
“He’s got a good teacher,” I say, giving her a nod for everything she’s done to prepare this space for him.
Jersey offers a thin, knowing smile. “It helps that he wants to be here. The structure is good for him.” She looks at Kolter, her eyes softening.
“The kids, both he and Elodie, aren’t just learning the basics.
I can’t wait to see how they are when they’re together.
I expect as bright as they both are, they’ll challenge one another.
We’re going to make sure that they both know how to just be kids. ”
Kendall rests her hand on my arm, her grip solid and warm. I feel the tension melt out of her, her shoulders dropping with an ease I haven't seen since we rescued her. She’s finally letting herself believe this is real.
“He looks like he belongs,” she whispers, her voice barely a breath.
“He does,” I declare, stepping closer. “It’s a good setup. Jersey made sure of it.”
We stand there for a long moment, just watching our boy play. It’s quiet in here—a hell of a contrast to the noise and danger that used to be their whole world.
Kendall shifts against me and walks slowly toward the table. She isn't hiding from him seeing her anymore, her own curiosity getting the best of her. She stops a few feet away, watching as Kolter refills the clay mound. She isn’t hovering—she’s just there, being present.
“How’s the project coming along?” Kendall asks, her voice light.
Kolter looks up, his grin wider than I’ve ever seen it. “It’s awesome, Mom! The instructions say I can use a different food coloring next time.”
“Is that so?” Kendall smiles, a genuine, soft expression that lights up her face. “I think that sounds perfect.”
Jersey leans against the wall next to me. “I’m glad you got them out,” she says, her tone blunt but honest. “This place will keep them safe. The gates are solid, and the perimeter is guarded. You don't have to worry while they’re here.”
“I know,” I say, a wave of gratitude hitting me. “It means everything.”
Jersey keeps her eyes on Kolter. “It’s more than being thankful that they can finally be who they’re meant to. We’re doing this so they actually get a future. Isn't that the whole point of the fight?”
I look back at the center of the room. The little clay mountain is surrounded by a rumbunctious kid who’s giggling as he plans the next eruption. “Yeah,” I agree quietly. “That’s exactly the point.”
My hand tightens on the doorframe. I never pictured this.
The fire, the chase, the constant shadow of death—it feels like a lifetime ago.
Here, in this little schoolhouse, the only thing that matters is the way Kendall looks when the fear is finally gone and Kolter looks like a kid of his age. Smiling, laughing, and learning.
We ended up staying far longer than Jersey probably anticipated.
True to form, though, she carried on as if we weren't even in the room, settling Kolter in and transitioning to simple math equations.
Kolter proves to be much sharper than either of us expect.
He grasps addition and subtraction effortlessly, as though he'd spent his time learning in a proper classroom rather than being held captive in a cinder-block basement.
By lunchtime, I was able to coax Kendall away so Kolter could eat and get ready for his nap. “He’s so damn smart,” Kendall gushes as she brags on her son.
“He gets that from his mother,” I remind her. “We know which side of the tree he’s fallen from because Jerome is as dumb as a box of rocks.”
“Not to defend him or anything, but he’s not,” she corrects me. “He’s a mastermind with a big IQ. He’s evil, but he’s a damn genius.”
“Good thing nurture will prevail and not nature in his case,” I volley. “He’s a good kid, Kendall, we don’t have to worry about him turning out like his sperm donor.”
“Damn right he won’t,” she presses. “Especially not with a man like you in his life.”
“I’m not going to let you down, Vixen,” I promise, pulling her in close and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “That’s the highest praise you could give me. I’ll be the absolute best role model I can be for him, and that’s a vow I intend to stand by.”