Page 34 of Property of Booker

Jersey keeps her eyes on Kolter. “It’s more than being thankful that they can finally be who they’re meant to. We’re doing this so they actually get a future. Isn't that the whole point of the fight?”

I look back at the center of the room. The little clay mountain is surrounded by a rumbunctious kid who’s giggling as he plans the next eruption. “Yeah,” I agree quietly. “That’s exactly the point.”

My hand tightens on the doorframe. I never pictured this. The fire, the chase, the constant shadow of death—it feels like a lifetime ago. Here, in this little schoolhouse, the only thing that matters is the way Kendall looks when the fear is finally gone and Kolter looks like a kid of his age. Smiling, laughing, and learning.

We ended up staying far longer than Jersey probably anticipated. True to form, though, she carried on as if we weren't even in the room, settling Kolter in and transitioning to simple math equations. Kolter proves to be much sharper than either of us expect. He grasps addition and subtraction effortlessly, as though he'd spent his time learning in a proper classroom rather than being held captive in a cinder-block basement.

By lunchtime, I was able to coax Kendall away so Kolter could eat and get ready for his nap. “He’s so damn smart,” Kendall gushes as she brags on her son.

“He gets that from his mother,” I remind her. “We know which side of the tree he’s fallen from because Jerome is as dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Not to defend him or anything, but he’s not,” she corrects me. “He’s a mastermind with a big IQ. He’s evil, but he’s a damn genius.”

“Good thing nurture will prevail and not nature in his case,” I volley. “He’s a good kid, Kendall, we don’t have to worry about him turning out like his sperm donor.”

“Damn right he won’t,” she presses. “Especially not with a man like you in his life.”

“I’m not going to let you down, Vixen,” I promise, pulling her in close and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “That’s the highest praise you could give me. I’ll be the absolute best role model I can be for him, and that’s a vow I intend to stand by.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY

Kendall

I stand in the doorway after sneaking away from Booker while he was busy at the monitors, my fingers gripping the frame as I try to stay silent and just watch my boy live his best life. The sight of Kolter sitting at that small table, acting like a normal child, makes my chest expand with so much love it nearly splits it in half. I step inside, the floor beneath me barely creaking. Jersey is sitting behind her desk, her gaze shifting from the window to him. She senses me before I reach her, but she doesn't turn around right away.

“He's doing well,” Jersey says, her voice low.

I stop next to her, leaning against the edge of her desk while looking at my son. “Is he?” I ask, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “He's missed so much. I'm terrified he's years behind, that he won't be able to catch up with kids his own age.”

Jersey finally turns her head. Her face is hard, but her eyes are kind. “Don't sell him short,” she chastises. “I've been watching how he processes the tasks. He's on track, Kendall. Honestly, he's picking up the concepts just as fast as any other five-year-old I've seen. Maybe faster.”

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure,” Jersey answers, nodding toward him. “He's catching on. It's like he's been waiting for the chance to use his brain for something other than survival. He's right where he needs to be.”

I watch Kolter reach for a crayon, his hand steady. It's a small thing, but it confirms what she says. He isn't broken, he’s just now being allowed to shine.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Don't thank me,” Jersey replies. “Just watch him. He's going to surprise you every single day.”

I nod, unable to find the words. The quiet of the room feels different now. It isn't the suffocating silence of a prison or the tense quiet of the clubhouse. It's the peaceful, humming stillness of a life that's finally starting to unfold the way it should. Kolter laughs at something, and for the first time in my life, I don't feel the urge to scan the room for threats. I just let myself listen to the sound of him being a child.

Just as I go to ask further questions about things I should be doing with him at home, the door swings open and a young woman comes strolling in, holding the bottom of her protruding belly. “That’s Carolina. She’s special, and lights up any room she comes into,” Jersey tells me, a broad smile crossing her face.

I lean in close to Jersey, keeping my voice down. “Isn’t that the girl Slayer’s brother is with? The one Slayer took custody of, along with his brother, after they were removed from that home for neglect?”

“You’ve got it right,” she replies, her jaw tightening with visible frustration. “The facility only bothered with the bare essentials, making sure they were fed, washed, and didn’t start brawls with the others. They pretty much let them run wild, and it’s damn obvious they weren’t watching close enough, seeing as Carolina’s got a baby on the way.”

“You’d assume they’d keep things more organized and structured,” I huff, my frustration bubbling over, “particularly when dealing with those who require extra care.”

“Slayer was absolutely livid when he got that call from the home,” Jersey explains, her voice tight with leftover frustration. “Finding out his brother got some girl pregnant under their watch... it practically sent him through the roof.”

Carolina shuffles further into the room, moving with that wobbling gait that comes when you're carrying a life. She’s wearing a faded band tee that stretches tight over her stomach, and she looks so damn young it makes my chest ache. She scans the room, her eyes finding Kolter, and that tentative, soft smile spreads across her face. It’s the kind of look that makes you want to protect her, no matter the cost.

“She’s a survivor, Kendall,” Jersey whispers, her tone stripping away the anger from a second ago. “They all are. Slayer’s brother, Boston, is a good kid, but they were never given a fair shake in that home. He’s doing his best to step up, but it’s a massive burden for a guy who never had a real family to model after since he was raised in a facility.”