Page 19

Kenna

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Kenna thumbed through the sketchbook on the bed. Most of her past was drawn in the book. The day her mom died. The day she was told her dad died. Losing contact with River. Meeting Kingsley. Each foster home she was put in and taken out of, juvie, group home, school, jobs, running away.

It was all there, staring her in the face.

The pain. The heartaches. The loneliness. The fears.

She flipped through the pages, coming to a blank one.

With a deep breath, Kenna picked up a pencil and began to draw. Her hand moved almost instinctively, lining the contours of a familiar scene—a place she longed to be.

She drew a large home nestled among pine trees. In the doorway, she sketched a figure that looked like her but without the burden of her past weighing down her shoulders and stealing the light from her eyes.

Glancing across the room at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser, her eyes were determined. It was time to fill that blank page with hope. She knew it would take time to find her place in Gem Haven, but she knew her place in Kingsley's life and was ready to start living for her.

Whether she got to see her dad in prison or not, she could no longer live each day, wanting a small part of her past back. There was no going back, only forward.

As the pencil danced across the paper, liberation filled her. She wasn't drawing a picture. She was crafting her path forward, one line at a time.

The bedroom door opened. She looked up from the page to find Kingsley stepping inside. It hit her that the rest of the room had shadows, and she'd spent who knows how long drawing by the light on the nightstand. She scooped up her art supplies and put them on the floor, shoving them under the bed.

"I didn't hear you ride in." She got up and approached him.

Standing in front of him, she frowned. He hadn't taken his gaze off her or said a word.

"Are you okay?" She ran her hands over his chest. "Did something happen?"

He leaned down, kissing her hard. His heart pounded against the palms of her hand. It wasn't so much comfort coming from him but desperation—an emotion she'd never seen in him before.

He pulled back, shrugging out of his vest. She stood back, watching him get undressed. It was almost a violent act as he ripped his shirt off and kicked his boots across the room.

When he was naked, he sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his hair, his eyes fixated on the floor. She moved closer, hesitating, before sitting beside him.

"King," she whispered, "whatever it is, you can tell me."

He gathered her hand in his and led her to the attached bathroom. "Take a shower with me."

She took off her clothes and joined him under the spray of water.

A storm raged in his eyes. Not knowing what to do, she wrapped her arms around him and held her body against him. It worried her more when he lowered himself to his knees in the shower, hugged her legs to him pressed his head into her stomach, and remained there.

She stroked his head, threading her fingers through his hair and brushing it off his face. Warm water ran down her body, falling on him, but nothing moved him away from her. He held on as if she could save him from the world.

It was backward from how she'd walked through life, always running to or from him when she was scared.

Now, it was he who needed her.

She could feel the weight of his misery. The way his body shook slightly in her arms. The way his breath came in uneven gasps against her skin. She wanted to ask him what had happened, what had broken him so completely, but she was afraid of pushing him away.

Instead, she held him gently, comforting him.

She swallowed hard, having no experience comforting someone. But there was a time when she had a mom who would hold her and let her cry until she wore herself out. Once she finished her meltdown, her mom would stand her up and ask if she wanted ice cream—in which she always said yes.

God, she missed her mom. She hadn't let herself cry since the day she was told her mom was never coming back.

She stroked Kingsley, letting him take whatever he needed from her. He'd always been her anchor, now it was time for her to hold him while he found the strength to go forward.

After what felt like an eternity, he rubbed his face in her belly and stood. His eyes were no longer wild. There was a glimmer of something else—thankfulness, maybe.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, letting her lips linger for an extra beat. "I love you."

He nodded slightly. "Water is going to turn cold."

She switched places with him, knowing he wanted to wash the day's traumas off him. Having showered over an hour ago, she used that time to wash his body while he scrubbed his hair.

When they finished, she wrapped a towel around herself and walked into the bedroom, where she found a pair of joggers and a tank to put on.

"I'll be right back, okay?" She kissed him as he stretched out on the bed naked.

"Where are you going?"

"Downstairs for a few minutes." She hurried out of the room, down the steps, and into the kitchen.

She grabbed a tub of ice cream out of the freezer and filled two bowls. She returned to the bedroom, handed him the dish, and then climbed over him to sit cross-legged on the bed.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"A treat." She shrugged. "At one time, ice cream always made me feel better."

He grunted. "I didn't know that."

"You don't know everything about me." She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. "But you'll learn."

Cold from the shower, she wiggled until her legs were under the blanket. The ice cream only made her shiver. Meanwhile, Kingsley lay there naked, unbothered by his nudity or the temperature in the room.

He concentrated on scooping bite after bite until he scraped the edge of the bowl with his spoon. "I went to Zora's cabin today."

She concentrated on her next bite of ice cream to hide her surprise. After the truth came out, he hadn't said much about Zora being his mom.

"Sounds like Dad tried to get her some help." He set the bowl to the side. "I couldn't tell if he kept her away from the club while trying to build the membership and start the businesses on Gem Haven or if she chose to stay away. Whichever way it was, Zora permitted him."

"How could she stay away from her kids?" She clamped her mouth shut, not meaning to blurt out the obvious. "I'm sorry. It's none of my—"

"Her mom committed suicide when she was seventeen. She was afraid of repeating the cycle. I didn't ask anymore. That says enough." He sighed.

"Yeah," she whispered, knowing that losing a parent changed her whole life.

Kingsley ran his hands over his face. "I talked to Zane afterward. There's not much we can do, considering Dad's the one who set Zora up in the cabin, and she likes living there. Big John will continue supplying her with food and helping her sell her flowers in town."

"It seems like a lonely life," she whispered.

"No, shit," he muttered. "Told her she was welcome at the house. But I'd like you and River to call me or Zane if she shows up until we know it's safe."

"You think she'll hurt someone?" she asked.

"I'd hope not, but now that I know she's our mom, I'll watch over her."

She leaned over and kissed him. "You're a good person, King."

He grunted. The darkness had left his eyes, and he seemed more relaxed than when he arrived home. She cuddled against him, wrapping her leg over his hip. It felt good to be able to help him when he needed her.