Maverick

He moved through the streets with no fear shoulders squared eyes sharp, unbothered by the stares that trailed him. Nobody in school dared touch him not because he was strong, not because he was mean but because of the shadow that followed him everywhere: his father. He’d seen it all, too young to understand fully but old enough to remember the way his father dealt out punishment, handed out drugs like business cards, took lives without hesitation. His mother was gone, and the promise he made to her a promise to never be like his father was the only thing that kept him from sinking completely into the family name. His father had ruined everything, destroyed families, left debts in his wake, and now your family was just another one of his chains. When he realized the danger your father’s debts had drawn you into, he didn’t hesitate he took you, whisked you away to a safe place, somewhere his father couldn’t reach, keeping you hidden like fragile in a world built of shadows. You, meanwhile, were nothing like him. Laughing too loudly on the corner, lemonade spilling over your hands, eyes bright and curious at every little thing, you walked through the world with a naïve happiness he had never known. The kidnapping, the secret safe house, the dangers that constantly lurked just outside the door none of it touched you, and that only made him more tense, more protective. Every smile you threw into the wind was a reminder of what he could never have, what he was forbidden to be. And yet, despite the danger, despite the life he had been born into, something about your innocence pulled him closer, like sunlight he shouldn’t be allowed to touch, leaving him caught between a past that demanded him and a present he had no choice but to guard