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"Take forgiveness slowly. Don't blame yourself for being slow. Peace will come." —Yoko Ono

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Chapter 97
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|One Year Later|

|Kade|

"You're going to be okay," Kimberly hummed into my ear. "I know it."

I sighed into her neck, fully accepting the moment to embrace her heavenly scent before it all went to complete shit.

I nodded, training my eyes ahead to the building in front of me. Inside was a monster, the very bane to the hateful man I nearly became. The link back to it all.

Kimberly's arms hung around my neck, and my own remained around her waist. I knew she wanted to join me, but I wouldn't let that son of a bitch lay eyes on her.

He couldn't taint anyone else I loved, ever again. His hatred for me, and anything that I cared for ran too deep, and I'll be damned if I ever expose Kimberly to it.

"I haven't seen the bastard in years," I mumbled, casting a glare at the prison. "Mom said that his latest letter came last week." With a sigh, I pressed my back against my car. "I'm going to tell him to stop writing to me."

Kimberly nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip as she eyed the building carefully. "I understand," she said softly, returning her pretty eyes back to me. "Don't lose yourself in him, though; he doesn't deserve an ounce of you. He'll think that he's got you that way, in your rage, but, he doesn't. He never will."

Her hand grasped the ends of my shirt, tugging me closer to her stance. I willingly went, just as I would with anything she demanded of me from her.

Despite the uproar of conflict, her simple touch was the one to reach me. Her thumb swept along my jawline, her lips rising. "You won, Kade. You're here. You're strong, and doing all of the things he didn't." I leaned into her touch, my heart thumping in my chest. "Kacen would be so, so proud of you. He already is. I know he's watching over you with nothing, but pride. I know I am."

I hoped that was true. I hoped that my brother, my sweet boy, was proud and happy that I was doing the things I never thought possible. I was sure he was, actually.

I drew in a relieved breath, nodding. My hand lifted her own, flipping it so that I could kiss the palm. "You're right, sweetheart."

Her head bobbed. "And," she added with a grin. "I might be cooking your favorite tonight."

I chuckled, tipping my head up to her. "Might?"

"Mhm," she hummed, allowing it to blossom into a smile that left my own shaking. "I already went, and got everything."

My head tilted, our humor matching the others. "I thought tonight was my turn, though."

On the nights we didn't go out, we both would pick the most random recipes, and take turns cooking for the other. Half of the time, we ended up abandoning the food for each other, then ordering a pizza or heating up leftovers whenever we decided to come back up for air.

Kimberly shrugged, moving closer until she was pressed against me. The feeling left my knees weak, something she never failed in accomplishing.

I placed a kiss to the top of her head just as she teased, "You'll get tonight off, but don't make a habit of it."

My arm tightened around her waist. "I wouldn't think of it, sweetheart." With a chuckle, I craned my neck to kiss her. 

Just as our lips grazed, we were interrupted by the screech of the bell. It was time.

I shut my eyes against the sound, but that wasn't what bothered me. It wasn't even close.

Kimberly's gaze lingered on the wired gates for a passing second before looking to me. Her own were full with reassurance, love, belief, and every single thing that seemed to soothe me back into myself.

"I love you," she said, plump lips rising at me into a soft smile. "And, I believe in you. Always."

The words were a harmony. With my hand to the back of her neck, I tugged her into me.

My lips cushioned against her own, slowly. Carefully, I savored the taste, the sensation, the everything of her. "I love you, baby. Thank you."

She smiled against me. "I'll be right here," she reminded me, hand tightening around my wrists as she nodded. "Right here."

We released one another once the reality of our time limit set in. It left me with such emptiness, goosebumps climbed up my skin at the loss.

I leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Thank you for being my bodyguard, sweetheart."

It was partially true. Over the past year, I had taught Kimberly nearly everything I knew. I knew she was a quick learner, so it was nearly effortless.

I still recalled my favorite lesson with her. I was teaching her a new move, but I'd been so entrapped with how adorable she looked concentrated, that I forgot to dodge the hit. Because of it, she practically knocked my head right off my shoulders from her right hook.

The hit had hurt like a bitch, but it was easily the cutest thing I'd ever seen. I think I may have fallen for the girl even more, if that were even possible.

I heard her chuckle, but her gaze remained dreadful. I could see the worry and pride, but either way, I had to go on. I had to do this.

If I wanted to give Kimberly my all, I couldn't hold onto this man, the start of it all, any longer. Everything he inflicted would always be a part of me, but I could only give it as much power as I would allow.

I waited to be checked in, the uncomfortable chair digging into my skin. I barely paid it any mind; it meant nothing compared to what was about to happen.

Once I heard my name, I stood, but found my steps slowing without invitation. The only time that I'd ever been nervous in years was when I was with or around Kimberly.

Other times, the feeling was an unknown one. I'd already met the devil; what else should I be afraid of after that?

But, now that I was here, it was all hitting me. My insides ached with the weight. I could feel a headache beginning to set in the longer I shared a space with the fucker.

I had no idea how I'd react when I saw him, but since there was a window between us, the fucker was more than lucky.

I didn't consider it luck, not at all; I wanted to beat the bastard to death. His blood on my hands would only barely account for all the buckets he spilled.

The officer warned me of the rules, despite me already knowing them. My head bobbed on its own, despite the action being useless. I couldn't hear make understanding of anything past the roar of blood in my ears.

We stopped right around the corner, where I could hear the chatters of other visitors. Fuck.

"Stray from touching the glass," the officer warned, motioning toward where I would be seated. "If it gets too rowdy, we'll have to escort you off of the property."

With a sample of a nod, I took my seat. For some type of relief, my fingers dug around the edge of the table until I was sure I drew blood.

I was going to look into the eyes of my sperm-giver again. Of the man who, for so long, I believe I'd turn into. An angry, bitter, lonely man who gave no fucks about anyone, but himself. But, I hadn't.

My eyes drilled holes into the glass until his side of the glass rattled with the opening of the door. A click, as well as a buzzer sounded out through the space.

I knew that could take him down without any effort now, but once I saw him, I felt my body tense up so tight, it hurt.

It wasn't of fear, though, for the first time in my life. I had nothing to be afraid of any longer.

Even though I ached for Kimberly's presence, I was glad that she wasn't here. For everyone's sake in this building.

I knew my father's wandering eyes, and the crude comments he would have made about her. I would have found a way through this glass the moment he even looked at her.

Hatred, rage, fury...all of it. It gripped me so tightly, I felt my skin warm until I got to the point of regretting my hoodie. With a rough grip, I tugged at it before all of my actions froze.

The hair on the back of my neck rose first. Chills ran up my spine, only further worsening my nerves. I knew, then, that he was here.

My fathers' eyes met mine through the glass as he took his seat.

As I remembered, his expression was glazed over, entirely. The only thing that I could detect was his shock.

I couldn't blame him; I'd vowed to never, ever see him. The last time we even laid eyes on one another was whenever I shot him. And, that was only for a passing second between the rage and grief I felt that night.

We both made a reach for the phone at the same time, causing me to pause. I didn't like doing anything in sync with this motherfucker.

I waited until he pressed the phone to his ear before I went for the one on my end.

My eyes remained on him, carefully cruising his figure. It nearly left me hurling up the lunch Kimberly made for me.

His body was much thinner than I remembered, but not too drastically. Past the orange jumpsuit, tattoos stretched all the way up to his ears. His black hair had thinned until there was barely any left, face wrinkled and tight with age and rage, with whiskers of a beard to top it. I noted the way his brown eyes examined me over, as well, and I despised the pride that grew from his end once he did.

His lips lifted into a half-smile. "You look good, son," his tough voice spoke through the phone. Every hitch echoed with agony throughout my mind from all of the times I heard it, mostly of him yelling at me. "You're a man, now." The urge to rip his throat out as he chuckled only intensified.

"How would you know? " I responded, drilling my glare into him. "You don't even know what the hell a man is, you never have."

His smile fell at that, fully merging into a frown. I think he expected me to say something else, but it wasn't my responsibility. I owed this son of a bitch nothing.

The silence stretched on before he let out a sigh. The phone hung between either finger as he swiped at his forehead with the front of his wrist. I knew that he was itching for a cigarette right about now, and the fact that he couldn't have it pleased me.

He cleared his throat. "I've been writing to you," he attempted. "You never answered." I heard his voice drop, almost as if he felt sad. As if he expected differently.

My fingers tightened around the phone as I averted my gaze. "You're lucky I didn't burn them."

He sighed. "Son—"

"Don't call me that shit. I'm not your son."

I saw his fingers whiten against his rage, his nostrils flaring. I shook my head; this was the abusive son of a bitch I knew. The one he had kept hidden so well to the public.

"But. you are. You're my blood. You're a part of me, and I'm a part of you," he responded, squinting his eyes at me. "Best and worst parts, whether you want them or not."

My heart hammered in my chest as I heard him. I shut my eyes against the friction of it all, daring my mind to revert back to reality. To me. To what I'd done, and what I would continue to do.

"No," I hissed into the phone.

"We both know it," he responded around a sigh. "Give it some time, and you'll feel my blood coursing right through you, boy. Trust me."

His voice was always the thing that taunted me the most, even past his fists. It was how he had instilled his fortune with other businessmen, with people in general, honeying over his violence with charm and professionalism.

I knew the reality of him, though. I knew it better than anyone. He was a condescending man, always painting over his viscousness. He liked mind-games. He liked control. He enjoyed the chase, the fight and blood he'd later shed.

I wouldn't give him any, though, not any more; I was done bleeding.

My chest fell in a ragged breath. "I'm nothing like you," I murmured into the phone.

"Speak up, boy," his voice hardened, the same way it always had before he released his wrath.

My eyes snapped open. I had to dig my hand into my side to stop from attempting to break this glass. "I'm nothing like you."

I forced myself away from his penetrating gaze, fully shutting my eyes, again. It was okay to reach my calm in anyway possible, even if he considered it as a weak approach. I didn't see it that way, because it was much more than he ever accomplished.

My sweet girl's words entrapped me, edging the rage right out, slowly, but effectively. It was enough to aid my mind back to a place of considerable ration.

Kimberly was right; I couldn't lose myself in him. I couldn't let him have control any longer.

I managed to reel myself back in enough to muster a speech. My chest rattled under a breath, one that I used to push the words out.

I raked my free hand over my bouncing knee, finally returning my attention to him. "Blood doesn't mean a goddamned thing. Not forever, not to me, and not for me."

I tilted my head, examining him over. "When I got my diagnosis, I know that I got my disorder from you. Of course, you had to leave one final mark on me." My head fell with a chuckle, my grip loosening around the phone. "For so long I thought, I believed, I fucking swore that you doomed me." With a plentiful breath, I willed enough in to continue, raising my eyes to his. "But, here's where we're different, dad."

At the term, he flinched at me. Even though his expression had darkened over, I saw him shift closer. I had his attention.

I leaned up, my back fully straightening out. "I fought. For Kacen. For myself. For the woman I love." I flicked my head at his lone figure. "You didn't. Your let yourself use it as an excuse to control, abuse, and rape your wife. To beat and torture your child, to kill your fucking child." My voice was beginning to rise the longer I spoke over everything, but I was managing to get them out, nonetheless.

His gaze shifted to the table at it. I saw his throat bob under the pressure as he shifted around in his seat. The bastard was afraid. For the first time in his life, he was being called out on his crimes. It didn't make it any better that it was coming from one of the people said crimes were done to.

He shook his head, his voice lowering. "Kade," he said my name over a cautious tone. "Susie and I...we had problems in our marriage that you will never understand. Did you know—"

I slammed my hand against the table, so hard that it rattled from under me. My rage rocked my body right along with it, snaking through me so quickly, I barely had a chance to grasp it.

I expected it, the excuses from him. I still remembered the excuses he spewed at the court cases. Some people even fell for it, despite there being literal evidence that it was all false. That he was false.

Fuck that, and him. He didn't get to try to cover up everything he did to my mom. Not after all she went through under his hand.

My fist curled into itself. "Fuck no," I snapped at him. "There's no fucking excuse for everything that you did to my mom. None at all. You were a grown ass man, and she was a woman, half your goddamn size."

I worked my jaw back and forth, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in it. I met his gaze, which was startled at my outburst.

"It doesn't matter how many fights or arguments my girl and I have, or will have, I will never, and have never put my fucking hands on her," I sneered at him with disgust. "There's no excuse or explanation for what you did to my mom, no matter how much your delusional ass head tries to find of one. When you love someone, you don't intentionally hurt them. And, you sure as hell don't do all of the sick shit you did to her."

My emotions were running a million miles a minute, now. I wasn't sure how long we had left, but I had to use every single minute as if it would be my last.

Because with him, it would be.

"I don't give a fuck about your dad hitting you," I said, steadying out my voice. "Or, your mother being a crackhead. That was your own shit, and neither my mom, Kacen or myself deserved to be the barer of it. If you would have really cared, if you would have actually wanted to get better, you would have tried. You had the money, the resources that most people aren't even privileged enough to have to get better, but you didn't. You threw your pills out the window, used every type of drug you could get your hands on, and drunk yourself away. People were hurt because of you...and your past may be an explanation, but it's not an excuse without action and apology. And, it's too late to give that."

I heard a lady's voice echo through the space, announcing our remaining time. I only had five more minutes with this murderer in front of me.

He never once met my eyes, again. When I peered close enough, I noted the slight shaking of his shoulders. His facade was long gone, and in its place was the pathetic excuse of a monster that I'd been hiding from this entire time.

I willed myself to get through this part. The one that had took me years to confront. "You killed my baby brother."

I didn't expect my voice to crack, but at the mention of him to his murderer, it sent me into an entirely different headspace.

"You killed Kace," I repeated around the wad of emotion clogging my throat. "You took my boy away from me, and you did it without a second thought. You ran, and left my brother to burn in my bed, under my blanket. You let him burn to death. You..." I couldn't finish it.

I shook my head, letting it fall. The burn behind my eyes was beginning to come in relentless waves, that part was undeniable. That familiar pain was accompanying the grief so drastically, it threatened to swallow me whole.

I had to keep going. I had to force myself through this part in a way I never had before. I need to. He would want me to.

"All of my life, you tried to take every ounce, every single drop of happiness from me. Even after all of the beatings, some hope remained when I had my brother. When you took that, him, from me, you thought..." I paused, allowing a breath to pass. "I thought that you destroyed any sense of happiness, any sense of life, or light that I would ever have."

At this, his head slowly raised. The whites in his eyes were beginning to red, his face beginning to shade. He met mine, but I edged past the pain building in his expression to continue.

"But you didn't," I said, maintaining a calm voice. "You didn't succeed."

I drew in a breath, a ghost of a smile passing my lips just at the thought of her. "I'm sure you remember the girl, Kimberly, from court."

The recognization clicked, immediately. If he didn't remember her, then I knew he remembered her mother.

My eyes flickered to his. "Everything, it was all stemmed from you and her mother. The people who were supposed to protect us were the ones who gave us examples of what we  needed protecting from."

His lips parted for a response, but none came. He knew that there wasn't one to give.

"I nearly ruined embracing my soulmate because of it, because of you," I said, feeling my chest warm along the way. "She taught me that there was still good in me, in the world, in others'. She taught me that I needed to be good for myself, in order to be fucking amazing for her. She taught me love, compassion...everything that you never gave, and will never have. She brought back every single thing that you thought