The Way of Fate (Book 1)

12. Living Conditions

I scoffed as Allen answered. "I could say the same thing about you. Keep your hands off my boyfriend, because obviously he's not interested in you."

Zak started laughing. It was the type of laugh that started out as a small chuckle, but soon grew until he couldn't control it any longer, having to bend over in order to catch his breath when he calmed himself down a minute or two later.

"God, you're funny," Zak said, standing back up straight with the shake of his head. "Mika? Boyfriend? Yeah, right. Mika doesn't do boyfriends. Nice try, big guy. And what's with the kid? Mika doesn't do kids either. He can't stand kids, and I should know that because I know Mika well enough to know that he'll be mine sooner than he thinks."

Okay. That was it. I practically jumped down the steps, getting right up into Zak's face. "You don't know shit about me and you never will."

Suddenly, the sound of gunshots rang out across the clear night. I didn't pay much attention to them, neither did Zak, both of us too used to hearing it night after night. But I noticed Allen stiffen next to me, and we all noticed Sam start crying.

I turned to tell Allen that this is why he shouldn't have brought Sam here, when the baby reached his arms out towards me for comfort, rather than his own father. In a silent exchange, Allen handed me his son, who immediately pressed his face into my shoulder and stopped crying as I gently rubbed his back. Zak, who had stood there watching us, just shook his head, not saying anything as he started walking away from us.

"I don't like him," Allen said, reminding me why exactly I was standing outside my house at this time of night.

I looked at him. "Why are you even here, Allen? I told you it was too dangerous, especially for Sam." I sighed. "You know what? Just come in. You're already here, we might as well not keep standing out here."

He nodded and followed me up the steps and into my little apartment. It was pretty much just one large room - a stove, refrigerator, and a shitty microwave made up most of the kitchen's corner, a mattress was in the back corner against the wall, the sheets tossed in a pile at the end of it because I wasn't expecting anyone to come over today so I didn't make it, a table with two chairs was next to the bed, and a small couch stood before a TV that I'm pretty sure no longer worked, although I haven't tried using it in close to a year. In the fourth corner was a small room that was the bathroom. I was constantly grateful that it had it's own room, and not just a toilet and a shower in the middle of the place.

Allen had stopped walking just inside the door to look around the small place while I grabbed a blanket off my bed and laid it on the cold floor in front of the couch for Sam to sit on. Once I handed him a spoon to keep him occupied, because that's the only toy I had for him in this place, I looked at Allen.

"Not nearly as nice as yours, you don't need to say it," I said. "But what made you come here?"

He pulled my phone out of his pocket. "You left this. Thought you might need it."

I sighed. "I'm going to be back at your house tomorrow. It could have waited. You know that. So what's the real reason you came?"

He stepped forward so that he was standing right in front of me. "Sammy missed you," he said in almost a whisper.

I smirked. "Yeah? Or did Allen miss me?"

To answer me, he pressed his lips softly against mine. After a moment, he broke the kiss, but didn't back up at all. "I never want anyone to kiss you again, unless it's me. I'm glad you punched him, though, or else I would have."

I shifted my weight back to look at him. "I never thought I'd like the whole possessively-jealous thing in a guy. Turns out it's really hot when it's you."