Just like Ma

Mallory

I didn't realize how tightly I was gripping Kian's hand until he rubbed his thumb gently over my knuckles.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked again, voice low.

I exhaled sharply, forcing my shoulders to relax. "Yeah."

But I wasn't. Not really.

I'd met Shane Holland before, and I hadn't liked him then. But this? Seeing him act like that? The way his eyes raked over me, the way he talked to Kian—like he wasn't his son, just some thing he had control over—it made my skin crawl.

And what pissed me off the most? Kian just took it.

Like he expected it.

Like he was used to it.

I looked up at him. His jaw was still tight, his grip on my hand firm, like he was holding himself together. I could still hear Shane's voice in my head—Lads like Kian don't come with happy endings.

Bastard.

Kian shifted on his feet. "D'you want me to take you home?"

I hesitated. I should say yes. I should get out of here, get some distance between me and the man snoring down the hall.

But then I looked at Kian again—really looked at him. The way his shoulders were still tense, the way his eyes flicked toward the hallway like he was waiting for something worse.

And suddenly, I didn't want to leave him here.

Not alone.

I tightened my grip on his hand. "I'll stay."

His gaze snapped to mine, surprised. "You don't have to—"

"I know." I squeezed his fingers. "But I want to."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, like he wasn't sure what to say.

I didn't wait for him to find the words. I just tugged him back toward the couch, curling into his side again. His arms wrapped around me instantly, holding me close.

We didn't talk about it.

Didn't talk about Shane.

Didn't talk about the way I could feel Kian's heartbeat still racing beneath my palm.

We just sat there, tangled up in each other, the flickering light from the forgotten film casting shadows across the room.

I woke up to the sound of Kian's phone vibrating against the coffee table.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I shifted slightly, only to realize I was still wrapped up in Kian. His arms were locked around my waist, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his breaths deep and steady against my skin.

For a second, I just stayed there. Stayed in the warmth of him, in the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back.

Then his phone buzzed again.

Carefully, I stretched forward and grabbed it before it could wake him up. The screen lit up with a text from Dean.

Deano: Where the actual fuck are you? Thought we were heading out.

I furrowed my brows. Heading out where?

Kian stirred behind me, groaning as he shifted onto his back. "What time is it?"

I glanced at the screen. "Half nine."

He groaned again, rubbing a hand over his face. "Shit."

I sat up properly, looking down at him. "Where were you meant to be?"

He blinked up at me, still half-asleep. "Garage."

I knew he was lying but I played along.

"Dad'll kill you."

He smirked slightly. "What's new?"

Rolling my eyes, I handed him his phone. "Dean's looking for you."

Kian sighed as he read the text, tossing the phone onto the couch beside him. Then his gaze flicked back to me, his smirk softening into something else.

Something warmer.

"You stayed."

I shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Didn't want to leave you here with him."

His eyes searched mine for a moment before he reached for me, fingers curling around my wrist, tugging me back toward him. "Come here."

I let him pull me down until I was half on top of him, my head resting against his chest. His heartbeat was slower now, steadier.

"Thank you," he murmured, lips pressing against the top of my head.

I exhaled, letting my eyes slip shut again.

"Anytime."

I barely stepped inside the door before Ma's voice cut through the silence.

"Where have you been, Mallory?"

I froze, guilt immediately flooding my chest. I knew this tone. It wasn't just the typical worry—it was frustration, a mix of concern and disappointment.

"I was with Kian," I said quietly, trying to avoid her eyes as I slipped off my shoes by the door. "Sorry, I didn't text, I just lost track of time."

She stood in the kitchen, arms crossed, her gaze sharp. "You lost track of time? Again?"

I swallowed, already feeling that familiar tightness in my throat. "Yeah. I didn't mean to worry you, Ma."

"Worry me?" Her voice cracked with a kind of bitterness that made my stomach churn. "I've got every right to worry about you. You're my daughter, Mallory. I don't want you making the same mistakes I did."

I blinked, taken aback. "What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath, her voice softening as she stepped closer. "I don't want you to end up like me. A teen parent, struggling and going through pregnancy practically alone. You're better than that."

Her words hit me like a slap. The weight of them pushed down on me, and I couldn't find the right thing to say. I was angry, hurt, confused, and guilty all at once.

"I'm not going to end up like you, Ma," I said, though my voice wavered, betraying my certainty. I could feel her worry pulling at me. I hated it. "I'm just... I'm careful."

She looked at me, really looked at me, as if trying to read every expression on my face. "I hope so, Mal. Because I can't watch you make the same mistakes. You're smart, you have so much potential. Don't let a boy derail your future. Especially him."

I frowned, feeling my chest tighten. "What do you mean by 'him'?"

Ma's lips pressed together as if she was biting back something else she wanted to say. "I'm talking about Kian. I know what's going on with him, and I don't want you involved with someone like that. He's not a good influence, Mallory."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "You don't know him like I do."

She raised her hand, her frustration finally breaking through. "I do know him. And I don't want you to fall into something that's just going to hurt you. You're not just some girl playing around with boys. You're my daughter, and I can't stand to see you going down a path that'll hurt you."

My heart raced as I tried to get the words out. "Kian's different with me, Ma. He's not like you think he is. You don't understand—"

"I understand more than you think, Mallory," she interrupted, her voice softening again. "I don't want you to be a teenage mother, struggling and alone. I don't want you to end up like I did, okay?"

The room felt heavy, the air thick with her words. I knew she was trying to protect me, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped in something I couldn't escape.

"Just... be careful," Ma finished, her tone more resigned than anything. "Please, sweetie. I just want you to be happy and safe."

I nodded slowly, not sure how to reassure her. "I'll be careful."

But even as I said the words, I wasn't sure I could promise that. Because with Kian, it felt like everything was already spiraling out of control, and I didn't know how to stop it.

Once I got up the stairs, the weight of the conversation hit me full force.

Ma didn't trust Kian.

She thought I'd end up like her—pregnant too young, struggling, regretting it.

I wasn't stupid. I knew she had a point. I'd seen how hard it must've been for her and Da, raising AJ and I when they were barely more than kids themselves. But I wasn't her.

And Kian wasn't my da.

Still, her words clung to me, digging in deeper than I wanted to admit.

I sat down on my bed, exhaling sharply as I pulled out my phone. My fingers hovered over Kian's contact for a second before I finally typed out a message.

Me: You home yet?

A few minutes passed before my phone buzzed.

Kiki <3: Yeah. You alright?

I hesitated. I could tell him everything—how my ma didn't trust him, how she was convinced I was going to ruin my life if I stayed with him. But what good would that do? It wasn't like he could change her mind.

Me: Just tired. I'll see you tomorrow?

His reply came almost instantly.

Kiki <3: Course. Night, princess.

I smiled slightly, but it didn't last long.

Because as much as I wanted to pretend everything was fine, my ma's voice wouldn't leave my head.

I don't want you ending up like me.

I wasn't going to.

...Right?