Page 3

Kenna

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Kenna sat in the middle of the bed with her sketchbook open. A blank, white page stared at her. Since arriving at Gem Haven, she couldn't even pick up the pencil and draw.

Now that she was stuck here, living side by side with Kingsley, he'd not only broken her heart but had also stolen her muse.

Normally, drawing was her escape, a way to express the turmoil of emotions that churned inside her. But she couldn't draw a single line since moving to the unincorporated mountain community where Gem Haven Motorcycle Club ran the bar and the campground and made up its own rules. It was as if the very essence of her had been stripped away, leaving her an empty shell.

A soft knock set Kenna on edge. Each night that week, Kingsley came to her room and tried to see her. And each night, she refused to open the door.

She might live under his roof, but she was here because her sister loved Kingsley's brother. She wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize losing her sister again.

"Kenna? It's me," said her sister from the other side of the door. "Are you sleeping?"

She put her sketchbook and pencil underneath the bed and crossed the room, unlocking the door and letting River inside.

"Kingsley's been asking about you," her sister said gently. "He's been by every night."

Her throat tightened and she nodded. She had known, of course. The way Kingsley's eyes followed her whenever he was around—she hadn't missed a thing. But she had avoided him, hiding behind helping River at the campground during the day and her pent-up anger at night. She no longer knew how to talk to him the way she had before when he was the only link to her sister.

"Are you okay?" River rubbed Kenna's arm.

Even with her sister, she found it hard to communicate. She felt more alone than ever.

"I'm fine," Kenna said, her voice flat. "I just don't have anything to say to him."

River pulled her over to the bed and gave her no chance to escape the conversation. Sitting beside her, her sister inhaled deeply. "What happened between you two?"

"I already told you I fell in love—"

"No, tell me what happened that made you hate him so much it's making you miserable."

"I don't hate him, per se."

River swept Kenna's hair behind her ear, forcing her to look at her. "I get it, sis. Knowing Zane lied to me for years about killed me , but if I'm honest with myself and roles were reversed, I'm not sure I'd tell him the truth. We were young. They were trying to protect us from something the majority of people will never have to face."

"No, the difference between you and me is that I always believed Dad was alive. Always. Nobody wanted to listen to the truth. Kingsley—I trusted him, and despite him knowing I was right, he chose to make me feel like I was losing my mind. He was the one person who I had in my life. The only person."

River flinched, hearing the hurt behind her words. She couldn't make it any clearer. The state had separated them. They were juveniles and had no rights. It wasn't her sister's fault that they were split up.

But, Kingsley, he knew why they were put in foster care, why they were told their dad was dead. Everything was centered around her past. Every promise, every conversation, every moment they shared was built on a lie.

Including, sex.

"What made you so sure Dad was alive?" whispered River.

"Remember Ronald?"

River nodded. "He worked with Dad."

"When the social worker took us to the house and told us to fill the black bags she gave us with the things we wanted to take with us, Ronald was at the house," she said.

"I don't even remember much about that day. It all seemed like a bad dream. The social worker came to the school and took us into the office, and then we went in her car to the house." River frowned. "I don't remember Ronald being there."

Kenna grabbed River's hands, needing something tangible to hold onto. "I overheard him telling her, 'Tom wants you to keep the girls together,’ and then he handed her a stack of money, which she put in her purse."

"But that doesn't prove he was alive at that time."

She squeezed her sister's hands. "Think about it. How could he have made his wishes known unless he was alive?"

River's mouth opened and closed, and she slowly nodded. "He couldn't have. God, I can't believe this."

"Do you know what Dad did for a living?" she asked.

"He worked at the warehouse." River shrugged. "We were there many times. I remember the shipping crates and all the men working while we visited there with Mom."

"That's what I remember, too." Kenna lowered her voice. "He was the boss. I know that."

"We need to find out why Mom was killed and why Dad murdered those men." River stood from the bed and paced the room. "Dad wasn't Tom Pruitt but Burt Shay. Mom was Louanne Pruitt. Who are we?"

"We're the Pruitt sisters." Kenna stood. "They can't take that away from us. We have birth certificates."

"If they're real," muttered River.

For so many years, she was alone in her thinking. She was glad to see River thinking beyond what they'd been told over the years. The life she remembered was covered in secrets and lies.

A knock startled her. Kenna looked at River and shook her head, not wanting her to tell Zane what they talked about in private. She feared everything getting back to Kingsley, and she knew he hated it when she talked about her dad.

River walked across the room and opened the door. Zane stood in the hallway. Kenna turned her back on them, inhaling a deep breath. The more they uncovered about her parents, the more questions they needed answered.

"Kenna?" said Zane.

She turned around.

"We're running short at the bar. Have you ever served food?" Zane stayed in the doorway.

She nodded. Today was River's day off from the campground, which meant she wouldn't be going with her sister.

"Do you want to fill in at the bar for the next few days?" Zane pulled out a wad of cash, peeled off three hundred dollars, and held them out. "You can keep the tips, too."

"Trust me." River raised her brows and grinned. "The bikers give good money."

"Sure." She slipped the money into her pocket. "What hours?"

"You can start at one o'clock and work until ten tonight. You'll get an hour for lunch from six until seven." He dipped his chin. "When you get there, check in with Lori in the kitchen, and she'll get you set up and show you around."

"Okay."

"Appreciate it." Zane leaned down and kissed River. "I'm going to the clubhouse. Come on up when you finish here."

River glanced at Kenna. She motioned for her to go with Zane. They could talk later.

Feeling more positive after the talk with River, Kenna got dressed in her best jeans and a low-cut blouse. She understood how tips worked. The sexier she dressed, the more money flowed her way.

She tied her hair back and added eyeliner, going heavier than usual. A surge of determination filled her.

A lot had happened that week. The job at the bar would help the time pass faster.

The prison called two days ago and let Zane know that Burt Shay had accepted his request to visit him, and the form he'd turned in had gone in front of the judge and been approved—unlike regular incarcerated inmates, all death row inmates needed to go through the pre-approval process. No one expected the answer to happen so fast. According to the prison, it usually took up to three months for a judge to review and grant or deny the request.

At a quarter to one o'clock, she walked out of the bedroom and almost smacked into Kingsley in the hallway. She gasped, throwing herself back, but two strong hands pulled her forward. Caught off balance, she grabbed onto his leather vest to keep from falling.

Her eyes locked with his. The tight grip on her arms sent a shiver down her spine. Heat radiated from his body, mingling with her own, and her breath hitched in her throat.

His gaze roamed her face, lingering on her lips. She swallowed hard, catching the flicker of desire in his eyes.

"Sorry," whispered Kenna, her voice barely audible, but she made no move to step back.

"Are you okay?" His hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and then he released her, but the electric charge between them remained.

She took a deep breath, steadying her racing heart. The way he looked at her with such intensity made it impossible to relax.

Kingsley stepped back. His eyes never left her. "You look good."

Her cheeks flushed. She rubbed her upper arms. The imprint of his hands on her skin lingered long after he no longer touched her.

She walked past him, feeling his gaze on her back. It took all her willpower not to turn around and look at him again.