by D. L. Raver
I had come close to disclosing my own secrets to him in hopes I could bring him round, but I had kept quiet on this and other things, including his involvement with Delaney Carmichael. She and Marcus had a sorted history that I was just now beginning to understand, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t take kindly to Chris’ interference.
“Fuck!” I bemoaned again, squeezing the Emerald, and feeling worthless as its keeper. The rough edges cut into my hand, and I welcomed the pain.
Hindsight—always perfect—told me I should have made a better deal with Paddy; one that would have put me in Emmeline’s confidence. Maybe then, I would have been able to thwart this tragedy.
Instead, I remained the family chauffeur, a paid employee insinuated into their lives but not part of the family.
Helplessly, I watched as Marcus Xavier slithered over them like a flesh-eating virus, consuming and destroying all he encountered. Worse yet, I watched Jacob Wilkes continue to be in Xavier’s thrall, knowing all I could do was sit back and watch.
“Sloan?”
A voice I knew so well—the same voice I heard nightly in my dreams—whispered my name behind me.
I stiffened and let the empty Jameson bottle and the Emerald slip from my grip, both falling to the balcony floor as I turned to face her.
Kenna Campbell stood in front of me shivering, her green gaze considering me with understanding, compassion, and love. Her strawberry waves hung wet, clinging to her breasts which were visible through the thin blouse she wore.
My mouth dropped open to speak, but I quickly shut it.
I didn’t ask her how she knew where I lived, because it didn’t matter.
I didn’t ask her how she opened the door I kept locked, because I didn’t care.
I didn’t tell her to leave, because I didn’t have the strength of character to do so.
And I didn’t ask how she knew to come to me when I needed her the most, because I was too afraid to hear the answer.
I just stood there watching her quivering form with her sweet lips slightly parted. I could sense the need for me that caused her to seek me out. It wasn’t sexual; just the opposite. She came to keep me from imploding, and I latched onto what she offered, afraid I’d be destroyed without it.
I pulled her into me, kissing and clutching at her, holding her impossibly close, surprised, and not, that she was here when I needed her most. In that kiss, I let my feelings go, wordlessly bearing both my heart and secrets to her.
Kenna relaxed into me, accepting all the things she couldn’t possibly understand. Her kiss soothed the tumult in my mind and ache in my heart. Though I didn’t deserve the comfort, I gave into it, devouring it, and her, as if she was my life’s blood.
I picked Kenna up and carried her to my bed, laying her down. Silently, we undressed each other and climbed under the covers.
She curled her naked body into mine and laid her head on my chest, demanding nothing from the man who had nothing to give.
Though I didn’t deserve it, she gave me her heart and soul anyway. She gave me understanding, and like the greedy bastard I was, I lapped it up.
“I love you, Sloan.” Her voice came as soft as the kiss her lips placed above my heart.
“I know.” I heard my voice crack, and I tried to return the words that spun through my head like a whirling dervish, but they stuck in my throat. How easy it would be for me to just give in and take everything from her—to slip inside her and finally make her mine. But for now, I refused to be that person in her life.
I was a bifurcated man, existing in limbo. I wasn’t wholly Sloan, nor was I Kevin. Kenna deserved a complete man, not one torn between two identities. Knowing this didn’t change things, and the inevitability of us never lessened. It wrote every script and directed every scene between us.
Though poised on the tip of my tongue, I held back the three words that would make us real. Instead, I took from her what she offered, regardless of how selfish taking it made me feel.
I fell asleep with her holding me, her body molded perfectly to mine as she tenderly stroked my body. When I woke in the morning with the sunshine of a new day streaming through the window, Kenna was gone.
I sat up and rubbed my face, wondering if I’d dreamed the entire thing. But when I buried my face in the pillow where her head had laid, her fragrance washed over me. She had been real and not an apparition.
Kenna had come to me without knowing—yet knowing all. Loving me when I had nothing to give in return. How the fuck was I supposed to live without her when I knew I’d never be the man I was supposed to be without her beside me?
As my life was often did, it bitterly reminded me of foolish promises made.
It also reminded me my life was nothing but a lie, and liars didn’t deserve gifts like Kenna Campbell.
Chapter Seven
Sloan
Present Day
I SAT IN T-bone’s office after Grant and I had wasted hours watching a house that didn’t contain either Kenna or Irelyn. I was starting to think we’d never get a break. Marcus seemed to be able to thwart us at every turn.
“Well?” T-bone leaned back in this black leather office chair and rubbed his bald head.
“She’s not in there. At least Kenna isn’t, and I assume Xavier is keeping them together.” I kept my stare impassive so I didn’t give away the pandemonium in my mind.
“How do you know?” He sat forward, and looked me hard in the eye.
“I feel it.”
“You feel it? So I’m supposed to make decisions based on your feelings, Sloan? Okay, but first you need to come clean about you and Kenna. How long has this been going on between the two of you?”
“We’ve been serious for over a year.” I wanted to balk at his question, tell him it was none of his business, but I knew he was just doing his job.
“Wow.” He sat back again and considered me with intense brown eyes. “Now I understand the vibe I sensed between you two at Zolt’s. And no one knows?”
“No. And it’s not because of my employment with the Wilkes. There are other things at play I’m not at liberty to reveal.”
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected your position of chauffer and security was a cover of some kind. Your time in the Merchant Marines precedes you.” T-bone steepled his fingers. “You can tell me anything. You know I’m good for it.”
“I do.” I crossed my leg over the other and rested my ankle on the opposite knee. “I trust you T, it’s just better if I keep things to myself. The fewer people involved the better.”
“Does Kenna know?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“And it has nothing to do with Xavier?”
“Absolutely not. But that bastard made a mistake when he fucked with my family.”
“Family?” T-bone straightened, and I cursed myself for the slip of my tongue.
When his phone buzzed, indicating a new message, I said a silent prayer of thanks for the interruption, and hoped he wouldn’t follow up.
T-bone picked up his phone and scowled. “Well, it looks like you’re right. There’s another location, but so far our man on the inside, Jackson, hasn’t been able to find the address.”
“Fuck!” I stood and paced T-bone’s office.
“Xavier is one slimy mother fucker. He’s not going to make this easy on us. If we don’t recover Irelyn tonight at the gala, I’m afraid we won’t get another chance. Same goes for Kenna.”
“Agreed. Recovering Irelyn without Kenna will be disastrous. Xavier will take it out on her…” I ran my hands through my hair, and then tugged, pulling until my scalp ached. My anxiety level spiked, making my heart pound. Thinking about what Marcus might do to Kenna, and what he’d probably already done to her, made me want to punch the wall.
T-bone’s hand squeezed my shoulder, and I jumped. The big man sure could sneak up on you.
“Don’t lose it now, Sloan. I need you to stay focused.”
“I am. I will. I just…”
“I know,” T-b
one said, and leaned against his massive black walnut desk. “I’d be just as crazed if the situation was reversed.”
I nodded, but he didn’t know. There was no way he could know when I closed my eyes, I could still feel Kenna’s naked body pressed into mine. Feel her nails scrape across my back as we made love. When I thought back to our last time together, I wanted to slam my face into a wall for being such a dick to her. Until now, I’d always felt like I had to choose between Kenna and my promise to Paddy, but maybe I had been wrong—maybe there was room in my life for both.
“You think this is your fault, don’t you Sloan?” T-bone’s question made my head snap in his direction.
How the fuck did he know that?
“It is my fault. I was with her the night she was abducted, but I left the way I always do.”
“Look, I won’t pretend to understand the relationship you and Kenna have, and quite frankly, it’s none of my business.” He crossed his arms over his massive chest and the light glinting off his gold watch caught my eye. I thought about the gold Celtic knot bracelet I’d given Kenna for her birthday, remembering that, at least that night, I had made her happy.
“But I don’t think you could have prevented this,” T-bone continued. “None of us could have foreseen Xavier’s plans for Kenna. Irelyn yes; Kenna no. Don’t kick your own ass over this. I need your head in the game tonight when the shit goes down. And it will go down; I can feel it.”
“I’m ready.”
I left T-bone’s office slightly calmer, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wouldn’t work out the way I needed it too. The damn Emerald heated in my pocket, and when it did this I always knew to expect the worst.
For the next few hours, I beat the shit out of my punching bag in my loft, waiting for time to pass before meeting up with everyone at Zolt’s house.
The text came in from T-bone indicating they discovered a possible address for a house Marcus might be using to hold Kenna and Irelyn. Instead of meeting at Zolt’s, the plan changed to meeting Grant and the others at the rendezvous location.
Driving my Challenger too fast, I white knuckled the shifter until my hand numbed. I wanted to believe we had been given a break, but doom spiked in me and traveled up my spine, leaving me cold.
Not everything would go our way tonight—somebody would be left behind, and I was pretty sure that person would be Kenna.
At the rendezvous point, I climbed into the cargo van with Grant and a few other of T-bone’s men. We were all dressed in black and were carrying. I had my usual dagger strapped to my leg, along with my Beretta 92 holstered on my right side.
I tried to convince myself that this was nothing but another mission as I leaned against the back of the van. God knew I’d done enough of these with the Ceilte—snatch and grabs were a specialty of mine. Rarely did I fail.
The problem was this wasn’t just another meaningless mission, and Kenna wasn’t another kidnapped, rich man’s daughter.
I loved Kenna. Once I got her back, my life would have to change. Somehow, I’d have to find a way to incorporate her into it. We couldn’t go back to the way it had been for over a year—pretending she didn’t matter to me no longer worked.
“We’re here,” Grant said, stopping the van in a dark and secluded place on the residential, middle class street. “Shit!”
“What?” I popped up from my seated position and moved to the driver’s side. A car off in the distance sped away, catching my attention, and I was about to tell Grant to follow it when he spoke.
“Both the front door and the garage door are wide open.” He checked his phone. “Zolt has Irelyn and is headed home. I’m guessing that house is empty.”
I bolted from the van not waiting for the others to follow. Kenna had been here but she wasn’t anymore.
I ran through the house like a man possessed, checking every room.
“Kenna!” The rooms had been cleared out, and in a hurry from the way things were strewn about.
A knot of dread formed and grew larger with each dungeon-like room I entered. My heart sunk when I reached the room that held all of the implements of torture that were every BDSM lover’s wet dream.
I had fucked up that night at the Bad Idea Bar and Grill. Instead of letting Joe Franklin leave, I should have grabbed the bastard and worked him over. But that wasn’t something I did alone, and since I didn’t have my Ceilte comrades for support, I’d let him leave. Now, I kicked myself for not being more proactive.
Quickly, I shut my speculations down. Letting my imagination run wild with what Kenna might have experienced would only send me over the edge, but this scenario was exactly what I feared. We had gotten here too late, and now that Zolt had Irelyn, Kenna would pay the price.
When I reached the last room, I entered and breathed in. She had been here. I could still smell her—still feel her. The stark, cold room made a growl bubble up in my throat and release.
Xavier was one demented mother fucker. The space had nothing. No bathroom. No bed. Not a fucking thing a person needed to survive.
“Kenna,” I mumbled and crouched down, putting my hands on the floor, closing my eyes. I could imagine her in here, huddled in the corner, terrified. “Where are you now, love?”
When I opened my eyes, my sight caught on something shimmering in the corner of the room. I walked over and found the gold Celtic bracelet I had given her on her birthday.
I squeezed the bracelet in my hand, and let my mind drift back to the night of her twenty-first birthday six months ago when I had given her the bracelet.
I stood in the driveway of the Campbell’s home, watching Kenna’s silhouette move around her room. My hand squeezed the box that held my birthday gift to her; a gold Celtic knot bracelet I’d custom ordered from Ireland. I knew the gift was more than I should give her. That the gesture sent one hell of a mixed message, but I needed to give this to her so she’d know how much she meant to me.
The night of Chris’ funeral, three months ago, when Kenna had come to me at my loft had changed things for us. Though we’d been apart since, I hadn’t forgotten how perfectly we molded together, or the amazing feeling of holding her body against mine. My bed felt wrong without her in it and sleep didn’t come as easily anymore.
Simply put, I missed her, and no words could adequately express that to her, but maybe this gift could.
I watched the house for several more minutes, waiting until her parent’s light, on the opposite side of the house, switched off. With stealthy movements, I silently slipped inside. Someday, I needed to tell Peter Campbell to beef up his security. But then, there probably weren’t many like me, who had learned from an early age how to breach even the highest security systems.
Once in Kenna’s room, I sat in her window seat with my legs stretched forward, waiting for her to return. 30 Seconds to Mars, “Was It A Dream” played in the background. I smiled remembering how much Kenna loved Jared Leto and this song.
She appeared at the door a few minutes later holding a bottle of water and plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it.
God, she was a sight and my breath caught. Her body-hugging pink T-Shirt said I’m in a complicated relationship with a fictional character and showed off her perky tits, her black flannel PJ pants riding low on her hips. A gap between the shirt and pants allowed just a hint of her belly button to peek through.
I licked my lips, remembering how close I’d come at Lake Powell to having her. The memories were physically painful, made even more intense by my ever-present need for her, and the raging hard on under my jeans.
Fuck!
Still not seeing me, she kicked the door closed and sat the plate and bottle on her bedside table, all the while singing along with Jared in perfect pitch.
“Kenna.” I kept my voice low, barely a whisper.
Her head snapped up, and her high ponytail swung this way and that. She covered her mouth with her hand to stop her surprised scream.
“Sloan?” she asked, droppi
ng her hands to her side. “What are you doing here… in my bedroom?”
I pushed myself up and slowly walked toward her, my gaze locked on hers. “I couldn’t let your twenty first birthday go without wishing you many happy returns.”
“Uh—”
“Why aren’t you out getting trashed?” I asked as I pulled her into my arms and began kissing her neck.
“Don’t like bars. Not my scene.” Kenna’s body quivered with each kiss, becoming fluid, molding against mine.
When she opened her mouth to speak, I pushed my tongue inside, silencing whatever she intended to say.
As I kissed her, I stroked her hip with my thumb, making her moan into my mouth. Then, I stepped back, knowing if I didn’t, this would go further than I had intended it to.
“Why’d you stop?” she growled as she steadied herself.
“Because I didn’t come here to fuck you Kenna. I have a gift for you.” I reached inside my black leather jacket and pulled out the black velvet box.
“Jewelry? You got me jewelry?” Kenna’s gaze widened and her lips parted.
“Open it and find out.” I held my hand out with the box resting in the middle.
Her long fingers reached out and took the box, then opened it. “Oh Sloan! It’s beautiful. I love it.”
“You do?” The need for approval I heard in my voice irritated me; I didn’t want my emotions to show. On the other hand, I wanted Kenna to love the bracelet. It wasn’t because I’d spent a fair amount of money on it; I had the cash to burn. The knotworks’ meaning was important to me. It said everything I couldn’t.
She touched the bracelet with her delicate index finger, and when her gaze lifted to mine, her eyes were wide with surprise.
“Sloan, these are lover’s knots. Did you know that?”
“Aye, I did.” It shouldn’t surprise me she knew, yet it did, and I wondered what else she knew.
“We’re not lovers.”
“Not yet.”
Kenna closed her eyes for a long moment. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Not yet.”
She took the bracelet from the box and held out her left wrist. I put it on her and then set the box on the table next to the piece of cake.
