Page 87 of Jetmir

I didn’t. I kept punching the boy, red in my vision. Or maybe it was his bloody nose. I kept punching him, again and again. Just like I saw Kian punishing his enemies. These boys were my enemy.

I took another swing when suddenly I was in the air. I kicked and screamed.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” I yelled. “Regret you were ever born.”

Those were the same words I heard Kian say when he made his enemies pay. I would make these boys pay.

“Jetmir, what’s happening here?”

Kian’s words came from somewhere and I stilled. I looked around and only now noticed it was he who pulled me off the boy, holding me by the collar of my shirt.

My sister stood a few feet away, her eyes darting between me, the bloodied boy, and Kian. She was terrified of what I’d done.

“I asked you a question,” Kian said.

I was so angry, I couldn’t find words in any language I’d learn to answer. It was my sister who came to my rescue.

“They were mocking us.”

Kian looked at Elira, then me, ignoring the boys. “About what, Jetmir?”

I clenched my teeth together, refusing to say a word while tears burned in my eyes.

Elira opened her mouth. “About⁠—”

“I asked your brother,” Kian cut her off. I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but no words came out. “Tell me, Jetmir.”

“They called us freaks,” I hissed, my voice trembling. “And said our parents didn’t want us.”

He put me down, my feet finally touching the ground. “You know that’s not true.”

Did I really? Because all I knew was that I had a mother somewhere who wasn’t searching for us. Didn’t that mean she didn’t want us?

Elira ran toward me and hugged me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, Kian standing over us like a looming cloud. Or maybe a protective one. I didn’t know. He was good to us. He cared for us. But he wasn’t ours. He made that clear. One day, he said, we would meet our mother.

“Okay, we’ll discuss this later,” Kian said in a gentle tone. “Let’s go home.”

That evening, Kian told us a story. It wasn’t a bedtime story, but a tale that changed me forever.

It was then that I vowed to myself I’d never want or need anyone. Except I failed at that promise. I needed my wife. I loved her. And God knew I wanted her more than anything.

My phone rang and I reached for it without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Finally, you dignify me with answering my call.” It was Kian. Fuck, of all the people, he was the last person I wanted to talk to right now.

“I’ve been busy.”

He scoffed. “So I hear.”

“What do you want, Kian?” He didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch. Kian never screamed and yelled, letting unspoken words dominate a conversation. “My wife stays with me,” I finally said.

“So I figured.”

“You’re not going to try to persuade me to let her go?”