Page 72 of King of Violence

Over the next few days, we settle into a routine. Mornings are spent hiking the trails around the cabin or lounging on the porch, afternoons filled with reading by the fire or watching movies we’d both somehow missed over the years. At night, we talk about everything and nothing, about the life we want to build and the people we want to become.

It’s in those quiet moments that I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for Julian—not just for his strength or his charm, but for the way he looks at the world with a kind of relentless hope, even after everything he’s been through.

One evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet, Julian and I take a slow walk along the trail that loops behind the cabin. The air is cold, our breaths visible as soft puffs in the fading light.

“This is nice,” Julian says.

“It is,” I agree. “It’s nice not to constantly be watching our backs.”

Julian nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Or pretending we’re just…friends.”

“Or worse,” I add with a smirk, “pretending you’re not constantly sneaking looks at me.”

He laughs, the sound rich and genuine, and it warms me more than any blanket or fire ever could.

“Guilty,” he admits, pulling me closer. “But to be fair, you weren’t exactly subtle, either.”

“Subtle’s overrated,” I say, leaning into him as we walk. “I think we’ve proven that.”

By the time we get back to the cabin, the sky is completely dark and the stars are out in full force. Inside, the fire is already crackling, the glow casting long shadows across the walls.

Julian pulls me toward the couch, and we collapse onto it in a tangle of limbs and laughter. He’s grinning at me, his hair messy from the wind, his cheeks still pink from the cold.

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, his fingers brushing my cheek.

My face heats, but I don’t look away. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughs again, the sound softer now, and then he’s leaning in, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that’s both tender and insistent.

The world outside the cabin fades away as we lose ourselves in each other. The worries and the fears, the expectations and the danger—they all melt into the background, leaving only the two of us.

As his hands find my waist and pull me closer, I know this is where I belong—here, with him, in this moment that feels like it could stretch on forever.

We’ve fought so hard for this, for the chance to just be together without the weight of everything bearing down on us. And now, as the firelight flickers across the room and his lips move against mine, it feels like we’re finally free.

???

On our last night at the cabin, we sit on the porch again, wrapped in blankets and staring up at the stars. Julian’s arm is around my shoulders, holding me close, and for a while, neither of us speaks.

“What do you think it’ll be like?” I ask finally.

“What?”

“Starting over. A new city, a new life.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I think it’ll be hard…but it’ll be worth it.”

I nod, resting my head against his chest. “Me, too.”

And as we sit there, the stars above us and the future stretching out in front of us, I know that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

EPILOGUE

JULIAN- 5 YEARS LATER

The roar of the crowd is deafening, a wall of sound that drowns out everything else. My lungs burn, my legs ache, and my heartbeat pounds like a drum in my chest. The clock is down to its final seconds. Twenty yards to the end zone. One play left.

I crouch behind the line, scanning the defense. Sweat drips down my face, but I keep my focus razor-sharp. This is it—the championship, the culmination of everything we’ve worked for all season. But for me, it’s more than that. It’s the pinnacle of everything I’ve fought for my entire life.

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