Chapter 68 Chapter 68
Chapter 68 Chapter 68
Tito’s POV
Kendrick’s arms loosened around me, and it was as if we both became aware of the same thing at once, his bare chest pressed against me, the heat of his skin, the droplets of water still clinging to him from the pool.
My body went still, and I slowly pulled away, trying to mask the awkward flutter in my stomach with a small, neutral breath. He stepped back at the same time, his gaze shifting briefly away, a mutual silent agreement hanging in the air between us, something along the lines of yeah… that probably shouldn’t have happened, even though neither of us was brave enough to say it.
He cleared his throat first, running a towel through his damp silver-streaked hair. “You can sit if you want,” he said, their voices softer outside, the breeze doing half the work of carrying sound. “I’m going to get dressed anyway. Unless…” His mouth twitched, almost amused. “You want a dip in the pool too?”
I shook my head quickly. “No. I’m fine.”
His eyes lingered on me for a second, a quiet checking-in, before he nodded. “Alright. Give me a moment.”
He disappeared through the side door that led into the downstairs guest room, and I exhaled, suddenly aware of how tight my chest felt. I walked toward the lounge chairs by the pool and sat down slowly.
I wasn’t sure why, but I stared at the water longer than I expected to, watching the way sunlight hit the surface, slipping into gentle waves that made everything shimmer. I’d walked past this pool maybe a dozen times since he brought me here, and somehow I never truly looked at it. Not in a way that made me feel grounded. Safe. A little undone.
My mind slipped into that dangerous, spiraling space it liked to visit when the world finally became quiet. And then the thought came, uninvited but unavoidable:
Jax accused Kendrick of being a Revenant member.
That was why he kept saying Kendrick was the reason behind his brother’s death. All those cryptic threats. The hatred in his voice. It hadn’t made sense in the moment, none of it had, but now, in the calm after the storm, everything felt clearer and more confusing at once.
Was Kendrick… actually part of it?
He never admitted it. He didn’t deny it either. He always danced around it, redirecting, deflecting, shutting the subject down with silence that felt intentional. And he obviously fought God-knows-how-many men to get to me last night. Just like he fought those idiots who tried to corner me and my mom all those months before this nightmare began.
So… who exactly is Kendrick?
The question pressed into the back of my mind like a thumb against a bruise. Familiar. Persistent. A little painful.
Just then, the door opened again, and my heart did this stupid, startled hop—like it didn’t know what to do with itself. Kendrick walked out wearing grey sweatpants and a loose white shirt, soft fabric clinging to the faint dampness of his skin. His hair was still messy from the towel, a few strands falling over his eyes, making him look younger, softer, more human in a way I didn’t understand yet.
He handed me a glass of orange juice. “Here.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, fingers brushing his without meaning to. The small contact shot straight through me, and I busied myself with adjusting the glass so I wouldn’t accidentally drop it like some shaken child.
Kendrick took the lounge chair opposite me, settling into it with an easy sigh. His eyes held mine for a moment, long enough to make my skin warm, but not long enough to be considered anything more than a silent check-in. We slipped into a quiet that wasn’t uncomfortable. More like waiting. Preparing.
Finally, he leaned back, elbows resting on the sides of the chair. “So,” he started, voice steady, “about what happened… with Jax’s brother.”
I straightened, my grip tightening on the glass.
His jaw worked once, his gaze shifting briefly toward the pool as if steadying himself before looking at me again. “His brother was part of a gang. The kind that thrives on chaos, the petty crimes, extortion, intimidation, anything that kept the South District on edge. I lived there at the time. And their group…” He paused, tongue pressing briefly against his cheek. “They caused a lot of trouble. More than most people realized.”
Understanding settled in my chest slowly, like someone lowering a weight instead of dropping it. “That’s why you didn’t want me going there,” I said softly. “To the South District.”
He nodded once. “Yeah. I didn’t want you anywhere near the people who lived there. It was dangerous, especially for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
His eyes softened. “Someone who thinks the world is kinder than it is. Someone who doesn’t know when to run.”
A small ache bloomed in my chest. I remembered every time I thought he was being controlling, harsh, unreasonable. Every time I accused him of being dramatic or obsessive. And underneath all of that… he was protecting me.
My throat tightened. “I’m sorry,” I said, voice trembling more than I wanted it to. “I… I judged you a lot.”
Kendrick blew out a soft breath and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I never explained anything. You reacted the way anyone would.”
The guilt didn’t go away, but the weight shifted slightly, enough that I could breathe.
He leaned forward a little, his elbows resting on his knees. “Jax’s brother died because he picked a fight he shouldn’t have. He and his gang tried something reckless and dangerous. They hurt people. And when the fallout came…” His jaw clenched. “They blamed me for surviving when he didn’t. That’s the truth.”
Before I could respond, before I could ask the questions forming in my throat, a sudden, sharp scream sliced through the quiet of the house.
Both Kendrick and I froze—just for a second—before he stood so quickly the lounge chair shifted behind him.
My heart shot into my throat, pulse pounding with immediate fear.
“What was that?” I whispered, already halfway on my feet.