by Willow Hayes
Nakoa’s question has the panic rising once again, and I shake my head, begging to not have to share, “Please don’t make me show it to you. I can’t bear it.” I don’t understand how they got pictures of her? Did the bastard take pictures? Did they steal crime scene photos? How did this happen?
“Kenna, we need to know what it says since it’s from the same person. It will help us gain information to keep you safe. We really need to see the letter,” Nakoa pleads quietly.
I start sobbing and drop to my knees. Then Akito is there, and he wraps himself around me offering silent comfort. I bury my face in my hands with the letter clutched in my fist. All I can see are her vacant eyes and the bruises around her neck. He fucking choked her to death. That was not a detail my memory retained. I thought seeing her in my nightmares was horrible, but that was nothing compared to seeing the pictures. Does someone know about what happened with him, what he did to me? Do they think that I actually choked her? Fuck! I don’t know what to do.
Teo drops down next to me and speaks gently into my ear, “Remember what I told you. We will never leave you. Whatever the letter says Spitfire, we will still be here.”
Nakoa
I watch as Kenna runs to the trash can, the papers still in her grip. I reach for them knowing it will be bad. Her reaction alone is enough to clue me in to seriously bad news. I wonder if they found Rya and hurt her, but I feel confused and concerned when I flip the papers over to see a dead little girl. “Kenna, why would someone send you pictures of a dead child?” I ask, trying to get to the bottom of why these are so troubling to her.
Teo grabs the pictures from my hand and after studying them passes them on. Anger twists his normally mellow expression after looking at the photos. After she stutters out her explanation I’m reminded of the night Kenna had her first nightmare here with us, and when she used the name Callie. That still doesn’t explain why someone would send her pictures of the girl though.
When she reads the letter and begins to sob I don’t know what to make of any of it. She already knew about Callie’s death, so what could the letter possibly say to cause such a reaction from her?
It utterly breaks my heart to hear this fiery woman beg us to keep the contents of the letter to herself and hearing her beg only fans the flames of my rage towards the asshole still terrorizing her. Teo kneels down and reassures her that no matter what we will never leave her. We wait, hoping she will trust us and share. She sobs harder and hands the letter to Teo, burying her face in Akito’s fur. We all move to see the letter over his shoulder, and I can’t believe the words I’m reading.
“She is dead because of your actions. Do you truly think you can rule a country? If you attempt to go public I will expose you for the fraud you are.”
I’m usually pretty good at keeping my temper in check, but this makes me want to send my fist through the wall. Repeatedly. Kenna believes somehow that she caused this young girl’s death. I understood to a certain extent that she carried guilt over something, but the way the letter reads makes it sound as though Kenna was more involved than we had assumed. However, I have no reason to believe a word this asshole writes, so I refuse to put too much stock into it. But how do we get Kenna to see the same?
I drop down to the floor and pull Kenna into my lap. She resists at first but then turns and grabs my shirt in her fists while she continues to sob. I gently stroke my hand down her back, feeling helpless to fix this or even to know what to do. As she calms down, her cries turn to hiccups, I ask her if she feels up to talking about the letter. She’s quiet for so long I begin to think she won’t answer, but she finally whispers, “I don’t understand how they got the pictures, or how they know.”
“What is it they think they know?” She shakes her head and buries her face further into my chest.
I don’t have the heart to keep pushing her, so I say, “I think we know enough for now. Why don’t we get you into a bath?” I meet Teo’s eyes over her head, and he nods before reaching down to lift her up out of my lap, and I let him take over. She’s grown a strong bond with him, and he’ll be able to help comfort her.
After they leave I turn to the nearest wall and slam my fist straight through it. With a growl of frustration I ask, “How do they keep getting to her? Where are they getting their information from? Luka, tell me you’ve gotten something off the first letter!”
Luka shakes his head and with resignation says, “It was a pretty standard type of paper, and without a handwriting sample to compare it to it’s useless. There’s little to be gleaned from a photo if it isn’t digital, so other than investigating where exactly it was taken from, which we’ve done, there’s nothing more to learn. I’ll take this one and keep digging though.”
Callum speaks up, his voice rough with emotion, “It does seem from both letters that the goal is to ensure that she does not go public. That does not mean they do not want a different ending, but as of now they are not death threats.” Not entirely comforting, but it’s something.
“I feel so fucking helpless. She’s being boxed in, and we can’t stop it. Since the kidnapping attempt she has withdrawn, and we are losing our fiery girl. We’ve got to find a way to stop them from tormenting her.” My voice rough with emotion as I stare once again at the disturbing pictures and wonder how our little firefly could possibly be involved.
Kenna
Every time I close my eyes all I see is her face, and the bath has done nothing to ease my grief. Seeing the pictures ripped that wound wide open. I’m scared to sleep because I know what will be waiting for me when I do. I know I should get out of the bath, the water long since gone cold, but I can’t seem to drag myself out. I know Callie’s death is my fault, but the fact that someone else knows is terrifying. And now the guys know more than I ever wanted them to. Akito sits patiently by my bath, every once in a while reaching up to lick my hand to offer support and remind me of his presence. He’s the only one who knows everything because I’ve poured my heart and soul out to him, and he’s never abandoned me. I finally drag myself out of the bath and wrap myself in a towel.
When I walk into my room I stop short at the sight of Teo sitting on my couch looking at his tablet. He looks up at my approach and gives me a small, sad smile before saying, “I brought you a sleeping pill. Use it or don’t, it’s your choice, but I knew you were going to have a tough time going to sleep.” He gestures to the pill and a glass of water sitting on the dresser. “I also wanted to offer to stay with you tonight. I know you won’t ask, but I also know you sleep better when one of us is with you. You don’t have to say yes, but I didn’t want you to have to ask.”
His kindness brings fresh tears to my eyes. I’ve never taken a sleeping pill, but considering that all I see is Callie when I close my eyes, I’d venture a guess that getting to sleep will be difficult if not impossible. I grab the pill and swallow it down with some water and turn back to Teo. “I would really like it if you stayed. Thank you.” I go change in the bathroom and crawl in next to Teo who pulls my back to his front and softly strokes my stomach under my shirt. His soft touches, and the sleeping pill work their magic, and I’m able to drift off into the first dreamless night of sleep in weeks.
Thirty-Four
Kenna
In the days following I studiously avoid any conversation regarding the letter and photographs. I didn’t take them with me, so I assume one of the guys has them, but I don’t care to know where they are. I never want to see them again, the images already seared into my brain. I tell the guys I don’t want to talk about anything, and I would like to just focus on training. They respect my wishes, though I can see their desire to talk about things shining in their eyes.
After the kidnapping I cycled between caring and not caring; whereas after the letter, I have dedicated myself to my training with a single minded intensity. Sessions with Callum are still rough, but my combat training has improved greatly. Sparring has even helped to work out some of my anger and other pent-up emotions. Eventually we find a new
routine, but the guys walk around like I’m a ticking time bomb. Who knows, maybe I am.
I wake from a particularly brutal nightmare after sleeping for only a handful of hours, so I dress and make my way to the gym. Closing the door gently behind me I pick up my practice swords and go to work on the training post. With a focused intensity I work on a few combo attacks. I relax into the familiar rhythm of practice, and the nightmare begins to recede from my thoughts.
When I glance at the clock on the wall I find that it’s nearly time for my session with Nakoa. While working the practice post I hear the door open, and I step back, wiping my face free of the sweat that drips down. I turn to Nakoa and see wariness on his chiseled face. He examines me carefully before hesitantly asking, “How long have you been working?”
I’m honestly surprised he needs to ask. I assumed the entire house knew when I got up, but maybe they sleep sounder than I thought. “A few hours,” I offer, deliberately keeping my answer vague, not wanting to reveal the truth of just how long I’ve been awake. His eyebrows raise in surprise and maybe skepticism. I don’t give him a chance to question me further though, “So what’s the plan for today, Boss Man?”
He looks torn for a few moments, but makes his choice and says, “We’re going to work on blocking today.” He grabs his practice sword and tells me to move to the center. I follow his direction and stand before him. “We’ve mostly worked on your attacks, but blocks are nearly as important. Blocking with two swords will be easier than with the one I usually work with. The strength of your blocks will be in when you cross your blades.” He demonstrates and moves on, “When someone is attacking from above, which many of the attacks will be given your height, the leverage you gain when you cross your blades and raise them above your head will help you stop the attack.” He gestures for me to cross my swords. “When a blade comes down at you, and you throw up your crossed blades the swords will absorb the impact of the oncoming attack.” He makes a show of raising his long practice sword to swing down at my head. It hits the place where my blades are crossed, and to my surprise it isn’t quite as hard to block his swing as I anticipated, though the vibrations travel down both arms and into my shoulders. He shows me one more block, and we set out to practice.
After two hours my positive outlook on the ease of blocking has flown out the window. Nakoa was able to break through each of my blocks. “You aren’t raising your swords fast enough, Kenna!” Nakoa’s voice is rife with his frustration at my lack of progress.
After so little sleep and the hours spent practicing, my arms have begun to shake with the effort of keeping my swords up. “I’m trying!” I bite back, my frustration equal to his. He swings again, and my grip has grown so weak that his sword breaks through and smacks me full in the face. I’m stunned by the hit, and it stings like a bitch.
Callum
“Again!” I call out. We have been working on this spell for days, and there is still something holding her back. Over the past two weeks or so Kenna has been unable to perform even the magic she has mastered, let alone anything new. I cannot figure out what the block is though. Today she came to the session with a bruise developing across her cheek, refusing to tell me what happened, or to allow me to heal her.
She growls at my command, but gets back into her stance. I watch her try again, and she still cannot make the magic work. “What is holding you back? There is no way you do not have the magic for it because you have done this spell before, so what is keeping you from this?”
“I don’t know!” She throws her hands up in frustration, her blue eyes burning bright as she narrows them at me. “I don’t know Callum! I can see the magic, and I can feel it, but when I try to weave my intention it slinks back down. I’ve tried sweet talking my magic, yelling at my magic, doing nothing to my magic, and none of it’s working.” Her breathing is erratic after venting her frustration, and she looks at me with wariness. While I have seen Kenna worked up many times, especially when I push her during our sessions, I have never seen her this turbulent.
“You have to get this down, Kenna. It is the foundation for many other spells. If you cannot master this everything else is on quicksand,” I point out, hoping she will dig deep like she has many times and be able to cast this spell.
“Don’t you think I know that?” she yells at me. “Don’t you think I know how much I’m fucking this up? Don’t you think I’ve told myself over and over again that if I get this I will never have to feel that helpless again? Helpless to protect myself and my friends? I swore when I walked away from that god forsaken house that I’d never let it happen again!” She heaves a breath then says, “Fuck it, I’m done.” I do not bother to stop her because she cannot work her magic like this. I watch her walk away, feeling helpless. Gods, I wish I knew how to help her.
Thirty-Five
Teo
I can hear her yelling at Callum from inside the house and decide that that’s enough. I’ve watched her these past few weeks as she pushed herself beyond her limits, her drive born out of desperation instead of a desire to do well. Every night I’ve heard her cry when she wakes from her nightmares. I keep hoping she’ll seek me out, but she never does.
When she comes slamming in the door breathing heavy and blinking away the tears she nearly runs into me. She mumbles an apology and makes to go around. “Not so fast, Spitfire.” I gently grab her arm, but she yanks it from my grasp, so I lean down until she’s forced to look at me, and I get my first good look at the shiner she has blossoming and the tears gathering in her eyes. My heart clenches at the sight of her pain. “No more training today, and definitely no more focusing on all the shit you got going on inside.” She looks at me in confusion, so I add, “Tonight is game night.” When she still doesn’t respond I sigh and say, “Come on, Spitfire.” I grab her hand and tow her along.
I stop outside her door and turn her to face me. “Now this is what you’re going to do. You are going to go take a hot bath, have yourself a nice cry because it’ll be the last for tonight, and throw on some clothes while I get the game ready.” She opens her mouth to argue, and I put my index finger over her lips. “No. Go.” She rolls her eyes and gives me a weak smile before nodding. I kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger for a moment. “Good, now hop to it. I need you on my team to kick some ass.”
She smiles a bit brighter, her competitive streak surfacing. “Damn right, Pretty Boy. We’ll kick some ass.” She turns and goes into her room.
I take a deep breath and shoot the guys a text to meet in the living room. When they arrive I jump right in. Looking at Callum I say, “She can’t do the magic because she’s buried under her guilt. Before you all protest, we all know she has nothing to feel guilty for, but she feels it all the same. We know she’s got shit in her past that she’s had on lockdown, but I think what happened with Rya brought everything to the surface. Then the fucking letter set things on fire. She pretends she’s fine, but it’s a lie, and we all know that.”
No one says anything, so I continue, “She needs a break from training. We’ve all worked her hard, but she’s pushed herself the hardest, hardly allowing herself to breathe. She nearly ripped Callum’s head off during training just now, and while she’s a spitfire, we all know she’s not like that. So I’m pushing pause on her training for the day, and we’re going to help her remember what it’s like to be a woman. Not the princess in training, just a woman.” I quirk an eyebrow, daring any of them to argue, but I look at Koa the hardest.
He throws his hands up in surrender and says, “You’ll get no argument from me.”
I send them off on their tasks and grab the game from the closet. As I’m setting everything up I hear her padding down the hallway. I turn to smile at her, and my mouth goes dry. She’s wearing jean shorts that show off her miles of long, lean legs and a tight green tank top that hugs her curves and reveals the Chosen mark on her chest. Her hair is piled on top of her head with wisps framing her face, and even with a bruise on her cheek she’s still
heart-stoppingly beautiful. My eyes finally make their way up to hers after thoroughly taking in her stunning body. I’m certain the heat is visible in my eyes, but I make no move to hide it. She raises an eyebrow and asks, “See something you like?”
I nearly groan and barely manage to get out, “Oh, absolutely.” Then I make another lazy pass of her body. She flushes and laughs, embarrassed by my attention, which I find unbelievably sexy.
Gods, I want to take her back to my room instead of playing this game, but she needs this, and I sure as shit don’t want our first time, because yes there will be many, to be when she’s in such turmoil. I don’t want to be her distraction fuck. When she’s in my bed I want her thinking of nothing else except when to scream my name.
I laugh at the sudden realization that since our little spitfire came along I’ve had no desire to go look for my next hookup. Making this the longest I’ve gone without sex since I hit puberty. I don’t want anyone but this feisty woman standing in front of me, which is a weird thought indeed. I sigh and turn away with a big ass grin on my face. We’ll keep dancing around this, but when we do finally fuck, it will be epic. I shore myself up with that thought and turn back to preparing the game.
When she sees what we’ll be playing she laughs. “Pictionary?”
“Don’t knock the game. It’s serious business around here.” I grin at her. “Since I already claimed you for my team I’ll let you choose our third, or it can just be us against the rest of them.” Ever competitive, I feel tempted to give her hints about who would be a good teammate, but I’m more curious about who she will choose.
