Chapter 77 Chapter 77

Chapter 77 Chapter 77
Tito’s POV

I don’t know exactly what pulls me out of sleep at first, the faint hum of the AC, the soft glow from the hallway, or the lingering warmth on the throw blanket Kendrick placed over me earlier, but when my eyes finally flutter open, the house has fallen into that strange hour where everything is too quiet.

The kind of quiet that presses against your ears. I shift on the couch, stretching out limbs stiff from sleeping curled up, and blink into the dimness of the living room.

Kendrick had gone upstairs about an hour ago.

He’d said something about finishing a few calls, and I’d nodded, too exhausted to even pretend to be awake. But now my body feels restless, humming with leftover tension from everything that has happened in the past week. I knew it would take a while to get over that sort of thing, the whole trauma and all, but it still made me uncomfortable whenever I had flashes.

Jax’s face. The knife. The gunshot. The cold metal against my skin. Kendrick’s arms pulling me out of the chaos.

I sit up slowly.

Maybe I should go upstairs and check on him.

The thought comes uninvited, but it doesn’t feel wrong. Just… true.

I’m halfway standing when I hear the distant sound of water running upstairs, then the muffled thud of a door closing. My heart tightens, not in fear, but in that weird way it does when something warm pushes against your ribs.

I start toward the stairs.

Halfway up, Kendrick’s voice drifts out, deep but quiet, like he’s finishing a call.

“She’s fine. That’s all you need to know,” he says. A short pause. “No, I didn’t ask for your permission. Don’t call this number again.”

My foot freezes on the stair.

The water stops.

For a moment, the silence feels very much tangible.

Then the door opens, and he steps into the hallway, drying his hands on a towel. He’s wearing a fitted black shirt and sweatpants, hair slightly damp, silver streaks catching the faint light from the staircase. His eyes lift, and soften immediately when he sees me.

“Tito,” he murmurs, voice lowering the way it always does when he’s trying not to startle me. “You’re awake.”

“I… yeah.” My hand trembles slightly on the railing, and I pretend it’s just from sleep. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I swear.”

“It’s okay.” He moves closer, slowly, and stops one step above me. “I should apologize. I didn’t want you hearing any of that.”

“Who was it?” I ask, even though I already know he won’t answer fully.

His jaw flexes, but his voice stays gentle. “Someone who doesn’t matter anymore.”

That answer usually irritates me, but tonight it doesn’t. Tonight, something else sits beneath his tone, something quiet and heavy.

He leans slightly against the wall. “You should be resting.”

I meet his gaze. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He studies me the way he does when he’s trying to read everything I’m not saying. “Come downstairs,” he finally murmurs. “We need to talk anyway.”

I follow him back down, heart thudding in that strange, uneven rhythm it often falls into when I’m around him. The living room feels warmer now, more intimate. Kendrick sits on the side of the couch, leaving space beside him, but I choose the armchair across from him instead, mostly so I can breathe.

He notices… of course he notices. But he doesn’t comment.

We sit in silence for a moment.

Then he says, softly, “I want to talk about what happened. All of it.”

My stomach knots instantly. I pull my knees up, wrap my arms around them, and nod.

He exhales slowly, elbows resting on his knees. “Tito… I know last week was more than you signed up for. More than anyone should deal with. And I need you to understand something.” He lifts his eyes, and the sincerity in them hits me with ridiculous force. “Every decision I made was to protect you.”

My chest tightens.

He continues, voice quiet but steady. “When Jax took you, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was two seconds away from burning that place down myself. Damien had to drag me back before I did something stupid.”

The image hits me in a strange, overwhelming rush—Kendrick out of control, desperate, furious.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, because guilt claws up my throat. “I shouldn’t have gone—”

“No.” He cuts me off gently, shaking his head. “This is not about blaming you.”

“But it is,” I insist, voice cracking slightly. “If I had just listened, if I hadn’t been so stupid, if I didn’t go into that car—”

“Tito.”

The way he says my name pulls the sound right out of my mouth.

“You’re not stupid. You trusted someone who didn’t deserve it. That’s not a crime.”

I swallow hard. My fingers dig into my legs.

He leans back, rubbing a hand through his damp hair. “I’ve made choices I’m not proud of. I’ve done things most people couldn’t live with. But I’ve never regretted protecting the people I care about.”

My heart stops.

The people I care about.

I look away quickly, because if I don’t, I’m going to start shaking.

He watches me in silence for a moment, then says, “I want us to be honest with each other from now on. No hiding. No shutting down. No running off with strangers who look like they vape their breakfast.”

A laugh escapes me—not loud, but real. Relief tinges the edges of it.

Kendrick smiles faintly, and the sight makes my stomach flutter in the dumbest way.

“That’s better,” he says softly. “I needed to hear that sound.”

His voice holds something warm, almost tender, and the heat that creeps up my neck is immediate.

I shift in my seat. “I… I’ve been thinking too,” I admit. “About everything. And I wasn’t just scared because of Jax. I was scared because—because I realized how much I trust you. And that’s… new. And weird. And overwhelming.”

He goes still.

Completely still.

Then he sits back slowly, eyes fixed on me. “You trust me?”

“Yes.” My pulse jumps. “More than anyone. Maybe more than I should.”

Quiet fills the room, but not the uncomfortable kind. This one feels fragile. Like one wrong word could shatter it.

Kendrick straightens, resting his forearms on his knees again, gaze steady. “Then let me earn it properly,” he says. “Let me explain things when you ask. Let me protect you without you feeling trapped. Let me be someone you don’t have to fear losing.”

My throat tightens so hard it hurts. “Kendrick…”

He holds up a hand, stopping me gently. “I’m not asking for anything from you. I just want you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The warmth spreads through my chest slowly, deeply, like sunlight breaking through clouds after a storm.

He continues, tone lower. “Tell me what you need. Any boundary. Any rule. Anything that makes you feel safe, I’ll honor it.”

I stare at him, trying to steady my breathing. “I just… need honesty. Even if it scares me. Even if you think I won’t like it.”

A slow nod. “I can do that.”

The conversation quiets. Not because the moment ends, but because something shifts—something subtle but unmistakable.

Trust settling into place.

I drift back onto the couch, exhaustion finally pulling at me again. Kendrick reaches for the blanket and places it over me, fingers brushing my arm in a way that sends a warm shiver down my spine.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right here.”

I nod, eyelids heavy.

Just before sleep drags me under, I whisper, “Thank you… for everything.”

His reply comes softly, almost like he’s afraid of waking me.

“Always, Tito.”

And I believe him, more than I’ve believed anyone in a very long time.