Chapter 76 Chapter 76

Chapter 76 Chapter 76
Tito’s POV

The next morning, we were settling into an easy rhythm of prepping breakfast and light chatter when there was a knock at the door. Everyone paused, glancing at each other.

We shook our heads simultaneously to indicate that neither of us were expecting anyone, so Kendrick got up to check who was at the door that early.

I knew something was wrong the moment Kendrick’s shoulders tightened.

It was subtle, just the brief stiffening of his posture as he walked toward the foyer after the unexpected knock, but I had lived around him long enough to feel the tension radiating off his skin. I stood a few feet behind him, still clutching the mug of tea I had been nursing, my stomach curling into itself as he pulled the front door open without a word.

A man stepped inside..

He walked in like the house belonged to him.

He was older — late forties, maybe early fifties — with faded tattoos wrapping around both forearms and a deep scar slicing from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. His presence alone made the air feel heavier. He didn’t glare, but his eyes were sharp, assessing everything: the hallway, the furniture, the photos on the wall… and then me.

His gaze landed on me like a physical weight.

I instantly straightened, my grip tightening around the mug so hard my fingertips began to throb.

“Kendrick,” the man said, voice gravelly but steady. “You’re not hard to find when you want to disappear.”

Kendrick didn’t smile or offer him a seat. He simply shut the door behind him with a controlled motion and said, “Reynold. You weren’t supposed to come here.”

Reynold.
The name alone made something cold brush the back of my neck. Was he another friend?

“Yeah, well,” Reynold said, waving a dismissive hand, “you going soft out here makes people nervous. And when people get nervous, they ask questions. I don’t like questions.”

Kendrick stepped slightly in front of me — subtle, but enough to signal that I was not open for examination.

“What do you want?” Kendrick asked, tone low, edged, fully in that version of him I only saw when danger hovered nearby.

Reynold snorted. “You sound annoyed. Relax. I’m not here to break your windows. I came to talk.”

Kendrick didn’t move. “Talk about what?”

Reynold shrugged a shoulder and finally lifted an eyebrow at me. “You gonna introduce me, or is she supposed to pretend she’s invisible?”

My throat went dry instantly. I felt heat rise in my cheeks, not out of embarrassment but out of raw, prickling fear.

“She’s not part of this,” Kendrick said, sharper this time.

Reynold’s lips curled into something like a smirk. “Since when do you keep people you live with ‘not part of things’?” He tilted his head. “That’s new for you.”

The tension in the room spiked so suddenly I felt my breath hitch.

Kendrick exhaled slowly, controlled. “Reynold, don’t start.”

“I’m not starting,” Reynold said, palms up in mock surrender. “Just old man curiosity.” Then his eyes shifted to me again. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I froze completely, my fingers tightening again around the mug.

Kendrick’s voice came out immediately, firm and absolute. “Don’t call her that.”

Reynold blinked once, taken aback, then let out a low whistle. “Wow. Protective. Didn’t think you had that muscle left.”

Kendrick’s stare didn’t budge. “Her name is Tito. That’s all you need to know. Reynold, its pretty early, so can you get to the point?”

I swallowed, feeling my pulse beat a little too fast. Reynold’s gaze lingered on me, not predatory, not inappropriate — just sharp, like he was taking mental notes.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Tito.” He nodded once. “Relax. I’m not here to scare you.” Then he paused, looked at me again, and added, “Actually, that’s not entirely true. If you’re living with him, you should be scared. A little. Otherwise you won’t last long.”

My heart thudded painfully. “I—” The word stuck in my throat. I forced air back into my lungs. “Why did you come?”

Reynold’s brows rose, amused. “She speaks.”

Kendrick stepped even closer to me. “I said stop.”

“Alright, alright,” Reynold sighed. “I came because people are talking. Rival factions are stirring again. Some of the younger ones are reckless, the type who think legends need to be challenged. And they remember you.” He jabbed a thumb in Kendrick’s direction. “They remember what you did, what you stopped, who you put in the ground. They’re looking for old blood.”

Kendrick’s jaw tightened. “I’m done with all that.”

Reynold barked a laugh — a loud, humorless one. “You’re never done. You think just because you live in a clean house, cook meals, and tuck your life away behind a locked gate that you’re safe? You’re a myth to them, Kendrick. And myths are targets.”

My stomach twisted.

For a moment, Kendrick didn’t speak. His breathing stayed steady, but the air around him felt taut, like he could snap at any moment.

“What rumors?” Kendrick said quietly.

“Rumors about a new leader rising in the east side,” Reynold answered. “Rumors that the remnants are reorganizing. Rumors that someone’s looking for revenge in places you used to walk.”

He let the words hang.

“And,” Reynold added, his voice dropping, “rumors that you’re hiding something. Or someone.”

His eyes flicked to me again.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Kendrick’s voice was cold steel. “Leave her out of this.”

Reynold didn’t flinch. “Kendrick, I don’t care about the girl. I care about the storm that’s forming. And if she’s in the house when it hits, that becomes your problem. And mine.”

Kendrick inhaled deeply, then said through clenched teeth, “Why are you really here?”

“To warn you,” Reynold said simply. “To tell you to watch your back. To tell you the past isn’t done with you.” Then he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. “And to tell you that a ghost is walking around with your name in his mouth.”

My chest tightened again. “A… a ghost?” I whispered before I could stop myself.

Reynold’s eyes flickered to me. “A man who should be dead. Someone Kendrick put away years ago. Someone who’s now free.”

Kendrick’s head snapped up. “Who?”

Reynold shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I confirm it. For now? Be cautious. Both of you.”

Kendrick stepped forward. “Reynold—”

But Reynold cut him off with a raised hand. “You were a good kid. A stupid one, but good. I didn’t come here to fight. I came because if this… person is really back, then you only have a little time left before things get messy.”

I felt cold, the kind of cold that starts inside the bones.

Reynold turned to leave, pausing only long enough to add, “Fix your security. Anyone with half a brain could’ve found this place. And for the love of God, Kendrick—” He pointed at me. “If you care about her, don’t lie to her about what’s coming.”

Then he opened the door and walked out, disappearing into the night as casually as he had entered.

The silence afterward was suffocating.

I stared at Kendrick, my throat tight, my heart pounding, every nerve in my body buzzing with leftover fear and confusion.

“Kendrick,” I whispered. “What… what was all that?”

He didn’t answer right away. His expression shifted, not angry, not upset — but something close to conflicted, like the past and the present were colliding inside him.

He finally looked at me.

And his voice was calm.

Too calm.

“Don’t worry about Reynold,” he said. “I’ll handle everything.”

Somehow, I felt like that wasn't true.