The Last Round - Chapter 11

Kingston

It starts with whispers.

Low murmurs in the hallways. Glances in my direction that last a little too long

At first, I ignore it. People talk. It’s what they

I figured it was about the fight last week or some dumb school drama I don’t care about. But as I walk toward my locker, I hear it clearer.

“Did you see the interview?”

“Yeah, Jason Kane… crazy, right?”

“And the pictures? I swear, she used to live here.”

My fingers tighten around my locker handle. I force myself to breathe, to stay calm. But then-

“That’s his mom, right?”

A sharp chill runs through me.

I glance over my shoulder. A group of kids is huddled by the water fountain, looking down at a phone.

I already know what they’re staring at The same fucking thing I saw online last night.

Old pictures of my mom back when she was young. Back when she was with him.

I slam my locker shut harder than necessary, but it doesn’t drown out the next words.

“Shit if that’s his mom, then does that mean…”

A pause. Then, like a fucking bullet:

“Is Jaxon Kane his dad?”

My stomach twists.

I don’t turn around. I don’t give them the satisfaction.

Instead, I grab my books and walk away.

By lunch, the whispers are louder. I can feel eyes on me as I make my way to my usual table. My friends are already there-Wes and Jace-my brothers, the only people who really know me.

I drop my tray on the table and sit. “Say whatever the hell you’re thinking.”

Jace leans forward, arms crossed. “Dude… what’s going on?”

I stab my fork into my food. “Nothing”

Wes scoffs. “Bullshit. Half the school is talking about you. You know that, right?”

Jace pushes his phone across the table

I don’t want to look.

And my fucking chest locks up.

It’s a side-by-side comparison. One of the old photos of Jaxon when he was my age-young cocky, all sharp angles and defiance.

And right next to it?

A picture of me.

One I don’t even remember being taken.

The caption underneath it reads:

“Tell me this isn’t his kid.”

I push the phone back. “People are stupid.”

Jace exhales, rubbing a hand down his face. “So it’s not true?”.

I don’t answer. Because fuck, what the hell am I supposed to say?

Before anyone can push me for an answer, a shadow falls over the table.

I glance up. Some asshole I don’t even know stands there, smirking. He looks straight at me. And I already know what’s about to happen.

“I mean it makes sense, right?” He gestures toward his phone. “He’s got your face. But if Jaxon Kane is your dad… well.” He lets out a low whistle. “That’s rough, man.”

I don’t react.

Not yet.

“Imagine finding out the whole world loves the guy who didn’t want you.” My grip tightens around my fork.

Jace shifts next to me. “Dude, walk away.”

The guy ignores him. “I mean, he’s out here, fighting his heart out for some chick he lost, and meanwhile, his actual kid is..”

He trails off, a slow smirk curling his lip as he tilts his head. “You know… it actually makes sense. Your mom probably thought she could trap him with a kid. Thought if she got knocked up, he’d stick around.”

I exhale through my nose, jaw locked tight.

But he keeps going.

“Guess she was wrong, huh?” His smirk widens. “Maybe she was just another ring rat trying to get a payday. You think she’s bitter about it? Watching him on TV, knowing she was just a quick fuck?”

The moment the words leave his mouth, I snap.

I push off my chair so fast it crashes to the ground behind me.

Before he even has time to register the shift, my fist collides with his jaw, the sound cracking through the cafeteria.

Gasps echo, tables scrape, people jump back- but I don’t hear any of it.

I tackle him.

We hit the ground hard, my weight pinning him down, and I don’t stop.

Another hit.

Another.

Blood splatters, and it should be enough, but it’s not.

Because I see red.

I see every fucking thing I’ve kept locked down for years, every ounce of rage burning inside
me.

I hit him again.

Again.

I feel Wes and Jace grab me, but I shake them off.

“You don’t fucking talk about my mother,” I snarl, breath heavy, hands shaking with rage.
He groans, dazed, blood dripping from his nose. “Hit a nerve?” He spits, smirking through the pain. “Guess the truth hurts, huh?”

I lose it.

I slam his head into the floor.

“Say it again,” I growl.

He gasps, eyes wide with something I recognize-fear.

It should stop me.

It doesn’t.

I pull my fist back, ready to end this.

And then-Jace and Wes grab me, dragging me off.

“Kingston, stop!” Wes grunts, struggling to hold me back.

“Get the fuck off me,” I snarl, but they don’t let go.

“You’re gonna kill him,” Jace snaps. “He’s not fucking worth it.”

I don’t care.

I want him to hurt.

Just like I’ve hurt for the last fifteen years. But then-

A strong hand clamps down on my shoulder, yanking me backward.

“Principal’s office. Now.”

I barely register the teacher standing there, red-faced and furious, gripping my arm.

The guy on the ground groans, rolling over. Blood drips from his nose, his lip split open.

He looks at me, expression twisted.

“Yeah,” he coughs. “Definitely his fucking kid.”

The teacher grabs my arm tighter, yanking me toward the door.

I don’t fight it.

I know what’s coming next.

They’re calling my mom.