Christmas in Kentbury

by Burgoa, Claudia

  “I just don’t believe it, try again,” she says.

  “I swear, nothing is going on with me, Willow.” I slow down my pace, trying to finish the conversation before I reach Fitz. If he gets a whiff of my doubts, he’ll pack my bags and ship me back home. Like everyone else in the family, he doesn’t want me to move from New York—but he supports my decision. “I have to get ready for my first day. Can I call you later tonight?”

  “Please, do it. I’m worried, and I don’t want to pull the ‘your absence is making me sick’ card, but it is not settling well.”

  My chest constricts with her words. Willow has borderline personality disorder. Her emotional state is fragile. Everyone copes differently with emotional pain. My sister used to deal with it by cutting herself to release the intense sensations. She doesn’t do it anymore, but I’d hate if something happens to her because of me and something I could have prevented.

  “I’m not giving you a guilt trip,” she rectifies. “I'm just being honest.”

  “Thank you for caring about me and your honesty.” My lungs relax just enough to let the air in and out my body. “I love you, Wills.”

  “Love you too, Bee.”

  “Hey, Fitzy.” I remove one of the earbuds after hanging up with my sister. “I take it you’re skipping today’s workout?”

  “I finished it at six in the morning.” He shakes his head, pushing himself away from the car. “The biggest asshole of the Everhart brothers woke me up at three in the fucking morning to look over some contracts.”

  I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. His brothers are friendly, but they can fight like only brothers do. Though, Fitz usually complains about one in particular.

  “Scott?”

  He nods like it should have been obvious.

  What’s with our older siblings today?

  Counting the hours with my fingers I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “That’s six in the morning his time. He starts his day before five. Why are you complaining?”

  “It was his fucking attitude.” His jaw sets as he nods twice. “Hunter texted me later asking if you can control him.”

  I touch my chest lightly. “Me? Ha, I can’t control anyone. And if you think I’ll call him to find out what’s wrong, I won’t.”

  “But you’re the only person he talks to in complete sentences.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  Yet, there’s some truth to his statement. Scott is extremely private. He guards himself from everyone, sometimes even his siblings. He only speaks so much and for so long. Unless, it’s only the two of us. That’s when the real Scott Everhart comes out of his protective shell. He’s cautious and independent. He is controlling, mostly with his company. But he’s also affectionate, empathic and he has the biggest heart of the Everharts. I sigh, trying to hold back tears because our relationship isn’t like that anymore. It isn’t filled with possibilities or affection.

  I take a few sips of air since I’m almost choking. Saddened by the reminder of Scott and our new dynamic. My limbs weaken because even when Fitz is my person, Harrison my best friend and Hunter my brother—the one I love the most isn’t by my side. I miss him.

  “Haze,” Fitz hisses my name while giving me his signature smirk.

  Crossing my arms, I repeat, “Nope. I’m not calling the mighty dragon to ask him to stop breathing fire on his minions.”

  “Hazel, please.”

  “Scott is a sweetheart until he’s not. When he’s not, I prefer to avoid him.” I angle my head to the door of the building and march toward it. “Sorry, but there’s nothing I can do for you.”

  “You could if you wanted to. However, you refuse. I’ll ask again. What the fuck happened between the two of you?”

  Fitz gives me that inquisitive, badass, ‘I’m going to leave you trembling after I’m done with you,’ attitude he uses while interrogating a witness during hearings. Which always makes me laugh.

  “You have a wild imagination,” I respond grinning at him. “Nothing happened, Fitz.”

  Liar, he mouths, rolling his eyes.

  Maybe I should stop lying to him and tell him about the almost two-year relationship that Scott and I hid from everyone. Well, it wasn’t a relationship. More like an endless series of friend-with-benefits rendezvous. But not today. I walk to the kitchen to charge my electronics. I have to go furniture shopping today.

  “If you want to fetch us some breakfast in the meantime, I’ll name you the hero of the day,” I disclose as if it’s a decree.

  “Great, I get Scott’s fancy title. Why don’t you find me a hot guy instead?”

  “I never called him any fancy title.” …as far as you know. I scurry away to my room.

  My stomach feels so empty, just like my heart as I learn that Scott has been calling everyone around except me. Not that long ago, I was his first phone call of the day. Every day, we created a plan, discussed strategies, and he would bring breakfast before we drove to the office.

  Do I miss him or just the old routine?

  Stop it, Hazel.

  I have to open myself to the unknown, and to new adventures.

  This is my clean slate.

  Undefeated

  Two

  Porter

  Six years ago…

  The sound of the blades cutting through the wind deafens me as my immobilized body is wheeled out of the helicopter. Voices are muffled by the thwap-thwap-thwap-thwap sound and the squeaking of the wheels are the only sound I can make out until the squealing doors opening and closing isolate the outside noise.

  “Move it people, let’s take him in to clean those wounds and start a series of X-rays,” a male voice interrupts over the chatter. “Call the orthopedic surgeon. Looks like his wrist will require more than adjusting. I want him on standby in case we have to operate soon.”

  Surgery?

  My eyelids are heavy. My mouth is in no great shape either. Every cell of my body hurts. I made it out of that hellhole where they tortured me, but I’m not sure if I’m going to make it. Knowing that these may be my last moments, my mind drifts back to her. My girl. I see those bright emerald eyes that have captivated me since the day I met her. The same eyes that have kept me going since I was kidnapped.

  She became my lifeline the moment I first laid eyes on her. There wasn’t a day where I wouldn’t go above and beyond to be the boy, and eventually, the man she needed me to be. Except when I was weak and couldn’t keep my promises. Those times when I fucked up and forgot she was my reason to exist. Fuck, I’m jolted out of my memory as someone takes my wrist and I feel a pinch. A needle slides in, followed by a cold liquid rushing through my system.

  “He should be out soon,” I hear a female voice drift in and then I’m gone.

  * * *

  I hear a constant beep-beep-beep in the back of my head. This time, when I fight to open my eyes, I’m able to see the light through the narrow slits. The pain is gone, but so is my mobility. A collar traps my neck; my arms are covered with plaster along with my legs. Plastic tubes snake around my arms, attached by needles on my left hand. As I move my eyes, I find him. Mason Bradley is in the corner of my room speaking with one of his men. I recognize the man’s face, but can’t remember his name.

  Mason’s hands gesture animatedly as he speaks, “The doctor explained that he has some broken bones, several bruises, burns, and cuts all over his body. He was in surgery for a few hours, something about internal bleeding and screws to set the bones back together.” That explains the white plaster and the grogginess. “He’ll need a few more surgeries to reconstruct part of his face. The doctor plans on keeping him for a while.”

  A while? This sounds fucked up, but I don’t have a penny to my name to pay for any of this shit. Taking a second glance at my arms, I can forget about going back to playing music for a few months. Maybe under these circumstances, Chris will give me a hand. Let me release an album to make some money. He can hire a few musicians to play while I do the vocals. There’s no fuck
ing way that my foster parents will leave me to lick my own wounds when they see me. With some good PR, I can recover my career, and if God is good enough, the girl. My girl.

  “I never thought I’d feel bad for the fucker. That’s a lot of shit for one person.” I hear Mason tell the stranger. “Even for him.”

  The other man scratches the back of his head and shakes it before he speaks, “Well, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at home for the next couple of days.”

  “Yeah, take care of yourself, Kowalski.”

  My eyes are heavy, but the curiosity makes me fight to keep them open. Why is Mason Bradley here?

  Out of all the people I know, he’s the last person I’d expect to see here.

  “Kendrick?” His eyes land on me. “Are you awake?”

  Though I try to say yes, my voice sounds like a mumble.

  “Good, I called the Deckers. They should be arriving soon; we don’t have much time to talk.” He takes a few steps closer and his hateful gaze doesn’t change. “This is your last warning—stay away from Ainsley Janine. She’s off limits. Next time you get close to her, I’ll be the one pulling the trigger. You put her and the entire Decker family in danger, Kendrick. The people you’re mixed up with shoot before asking questions. I’ve got to be honest, I expected to find your dead body. Celebrate your miraculous recovery by keeping your distance from all of them. Because if I ever see you again, it’ll be your funeral. Got it?”

  He pivots and heads back to the corner not waiting for an answer. I refrain from asking him about my condition, or thanking him for saving my life. That can be said later when I’m better, or … my thoughts stop, as AJ rushes through the door. She comes to a halt when she spots me, her soft gasp filling the room. The moment her eyes find mine, she halts and the worry in her eyes disappears. She turns her head slightly and immediately her body relaxes, her lips stretch into a smile and her eyes brighten the way they usually do when she’s happy. She sees him. They shine for him, as if he’s the only man in the room—in the world. A burning sensation ignites in my chest and every part of me is aware of one thing.

  She’s no longer mine.

  “You idiot.” She walks toward him and they stare at each other. Mason’s head tilts down and his eyes soften. The smile he gives her is unbelievable for a badass like him. The man who usually punches your face before asking questions gives her a look full of love. She throws her arms around him and their conversation becomes private—intimate.

  Bradley clears his throat and his voice interrupts the exchange they had, which just fucking killed my soul. “Bruised, broken, but he’ll live. You guys planning on caring for him?”

  “Not sure. I heard my parents talking about sending him to some hospital to help him with his rehabilitation.” There’s no anger in her voice, no resentment. “After everything he has put us through, we can’t do much for him. There’s no way for us to put all that shit aside and try to deal with who he’s become.”

  Mason’s words come back and this might be the last chance I have to talk to her. Unless I can convince her that I’ve changed, that I’m a different person.

  You can do it; she’s always had a soft spot for you. Make her listen to you. You can’t lose her, fucker.

  “AJ?” I call her.

  She rises on her tiptoes, kisses him, and walks to me. “How are you, Porter? I hope much better than you look.” As her eyes travel over my body, she flinches a couple of times.

  “All hurts,” I struggle to breathe, but I won’t let that stop me from trying to talk her into taking me back. “This time, I thought I wouldn’t make it.”

  “The doctors will make it better.” She pats my hand with that nurturing care she’s shown me since the first time we met. Fuck, I need that to recover. Her love. Her care. All of her, but that soft-loving look she used to give me is all gone. Her eyes are neutral. There’s no hate, no love, no nothing left inside her for me. “By the time you’re out, there won’t be any pain.”

  A loud laugh goes off inside my head. There’s an unbearable pain inside my heart, my chest. Every inch of my body hurts because not only has she stopped loving me—somebody else took my place.

  “There’s one that will remain deep in my chest,” I confess. “The excruciating ache of knowing that I not only lost the love of my life, but that the love of my life is now in love with someone else will never fade away. Baby, I lost you. You were the only person in this world who ever loved me, AJ.”

  Her gaze drops as she bites her lip. For a few seconds we connect at the level we used to. The brief connection is a final goodbye. What happened to being soul mates? I want to ask her, remind her that we were supposed to have an endless love. Something that no one will touch.

  Soul mates are forever. Aren’t they?

  “Goodbye, Port,” AJ whispers. “I wish you the best.”

  No, no. Don’t leave me I want to scream, but my lips remain closed tight.

  She turns around, walking to him. Mason Bradley. The man who has always been there for her through thick and thin. One call and the fucker would appear. They’ve always had that fucking connection that I could never break. No matter what I did, no matter how many times I tried to keep them apart or forbid her to talk to him, she ignored me. Understanding dawns—he’s her soulmate. Maybe she never belonged to me the way I thought.

  Fuck, this can’t be happening. I need her. Don’t take her away from me; I want to beg Mason.

  Instead, I call out to him as they leave, “Mason. Thank you for rescuing me. I guess the best man won. Be smart and don’t throw away the best thing that can ever happen in your life: being loved by Ainse.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge me, his jaw tightening as they leave. My lungs burn. I’m about to close my eyes to avoid shedding any tears when MJ and JC Decker enter the room.

  Two cold stares are directed at me. “We’re fucking done with you,” Jacob growls. “No matter what the parental units say, you stay away from us. In fact, we’ve decided that Porter Kendrick has retired.”

  My gaze switches to MJ, who is easier to talk to. The guy always looks after others. Hell, he saved my life once. Maybe he can change Jacob’s mind. Music is the only shit I know how to do. I never finished college because … why would I? I had my career and I made it big. I’m Porter Fucking Kendrick. The public loves me. As long as there’s a studio willing to take me, I should be fine.

  “Retired.” Matthew, the mellow one of the three, repeats. “Our connections know that you’re out of the business. Sorry, dude, but after what you did to AJ and the shit you put our parents through, well, it’s time to take care of you our way.”

  “Matthew!” Chris’ severe voice comes from the door. “He’s family.”

  “Dude, he’s the kid that you picked up from the streets and repaid you by fucking the entire family all over,” Matthew responds.

  “Matthew, I’m your father!”

  “Pops, sorry but it’s done,” Jacob’s voice is neutral. No disrespect to his father but he’s not backing down. “We Deckers protect each other, not destroy each other. He’s not a Decker.”

  His words stab through my heart.

  I’m not a Decker.

  Both brothers leave the room. Gabe and Chris remain in the room, staring down at me and then at each other. “Gabe, talk to him. Jacob listens to you better than he does me.”

  “That’s a lie, babe. And no, I won’t talk to him.”

  My breath hitches; they can’t abandon me. Can’t they see how I look? I’m in the freaking hole. If they do this, I’m fucking done forever.

  “Porter, you have to help yourself, son.” Chris pats my hand just the same way AJ did earlier. “Pull yourself together.”

  “We’re taking care of the hospital bills and paying for the rehabilitation center, Porter,” Gabe informs me with his cool, business-like voice. “The place we chose will help you physically and mentally.”

  “My music, Gabe. Please, talk to them,” I beg because MJ and
JC have a lot of connections. They’re not only great musicians, but they’re the sons of Chris Decker, a rock legend. If they say shit about me, I’m fucked for life. “That’s the only way I know how to survive.”

  “Twelve years ago, when I found you, I saw possibilities,” Gabe says, running a hand through his hair. “A child that had escaped and tried to survive. This was my chance to save someone like my husband. Back then I thought, if only he had a chance to find a family that loved him … That’s why we opened our house and our family to you. I won’t talk to anyone, Porter. But do you know why?” His eyes soften and he gives me a sad smile. “Because we love you like a son, Porter. You can’t handle fame. It’s your downfall. College, kid. Finish school and find another way.”

  “We love you, but the doors to our home are closed to you, Porter,” Chris tells me holding his husband’s hand. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

  The last time I shed tears was when I woke up in the hospital and a nurse told me that my mommy had gone to heaven and she wouldn’t come back for me. I had no idea where that heaven was, but I understood that I was alone. Mom never returned and today I lost the only people who had cared about me.

  Two

  Porter

  Five years ago…

  It’s in your smile,

  Your eyes,

  The way they see me

  With you I’m invincible

  [Chorus]