Saving Kenna

by D. L. Raver

  “Fuck,” T-bone mumbled. He handed me a blanket to cover her with, then proceeded to pull off Kenna’s shoes and toss them into the empty field.

  It was over.

  Marcus Xavier was dead, and Kenna had come back to me. But the woman I held in my arms was not the woman I’d last made love to. I could see it in her wide-eyed, vacant stare, and I knew then we’d entered a new kind of hell.

  Marcus had broken her, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to put her back together again.

  No matter what I had to do, I would find a way for us to get past this. I may have walked away from her before but I wouldn’t ever again.

  Part Two

  “You can't go home again”

  Thomas Wolfe

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kenna

  Present Day

  I SAT IN the passenger side of Sloan’s Challenger, huddled under the blanket T-bone had put around me. Except for when he shifted, Sloan didn’t let go of my hand. Every once and a while, he glanced at me, his gaze dark and troubled. A storm raged within his gunmetal gray depths, and the corded muscles on his neck told me he fought for control. Things would only get worse once he found out the most likely outcome of my kidnapping.

  Small quivers began, working their way inside and traveling out, making me shiver. My teeth chattered even though it was probably one hundred plus degrees outside. This reaction had nothing to do with the temperature.

  The emotional fallout had started.

  “Are you all right, love?” Sloan turned and looked at me, his brow furrowed with worry.

  I shook my head and tried to take a deep breath, but my ribs ached from where Joe had most likely kicked me when I had been unconscious. The intense pain shot through my side and I cried out, clutching at my side.

  “Kenna?” Sloan’s voice now matched the worried expression on his face.

  “Ribs,” I said feebly. “Maybe broken.”

  “Fuck!” Sloan muttered. He pulled out his phone and dialed someone. “Brody, can you meet us at my loft? I know you’re still healing, but I think Kenna has broken ribs. She’s having trouble breathing. Lord only knows what else was done to her. She has a nasty black eye as well.”

  There was a pause and I could barely hear Brody’s voice. “Aye, that’s the address. What?”

  Sloan glanced at me and frowned. His anger changed the atmosphere in the car to arctic.

  I pulled the blanket around me tighter and watched Sloan’s fragile composure erode further.

  “Kenna.” He briefly closed his eyes and took a breath. Through clenched teeth he asked, “Were you raped?”

  My head snapped around so I fully faced him. Unbidden tears coursed down my face. I didn’t want to tell him I was no longer just his, but I knew I had too. The answer sat on the tip of my tongue, heavy and bitter.

  This answer changed everything.

  “Yes.” My head dropped, and I brought my knees to my chest. Through a hiccup I said life changing words. “I think I’m pregnant.”

  Sloan dropped the phone and let out a howl so primal and heartbroken that I flinched away from him.

  “Stop the car. I’m going to be sick.” I clamped my hand over my mouth.

  As soon as the car pulled off the freeway and stopped, I jumped out, keeping the blanket tight against my naked body.

  The contents of my stomach evacuated in a hurry. Thankfully, there wasn’t much because the act of vomiting made the pain in my ribs intensify. I sunk to the ground, unable to stay upright.

  Sloan followed me down and pulled me into his lap as he leaned against the car. He handed me a bottle of water and I drank greedily.

  Embarrassment rippled through me, knowing I probably didn’t smell very good. I tried to move away from him, but he tightened his hold. Really, all things considered, the way I smelled should be the least of my concerns.

  “I’m sorry.” I tipped my head back and looked in his eyes.

  “Was it Marcus?” His body shook with the question, and his eyes were as dark as I’d ever seen them—they were almost black.

  “No. Joe Franklin.”

  “I’ll fucking kill him.” The words were barely audible; a snarl of emotions I didn’t even want to consider.

  He stood up with me still in his arms. Gently, he put me back in the car, and we drove the rest of the way to his loft in silence. When we got there, Brody and a woman with a short brown, pixie haircut were waiting by the door.

  Brody’s left arm had a cast, and his face sported several cuts and bruises that looked to be in the later stages of healing.

  I got out of the car, intent on walking, but Sloan scooped me up in his arms again and carried me inside.

  “Brody was attacked by Marcus’ men. He just got out of the hospital.”

  “Oh God! Are you all right?” I asked, wishing Marcus was dead, and then remembering he was. Somehow that knowledge didn’t alleviate my own raging emotions.

  “No, he’s not.” The woman gave Brody a disapproving scowl. “He really shouldn’t be out of bed given he was just released from the hospital yesterday, having only awakened from a coma two days prior. I’m Dr. Allison Jenkins, by the way.”

  “Brody, why did you come?” I nodded at Allison in acknowledgement, but my main concern was Brody.

  Brody’s good hand squeezed mine. “Because I know what Marcus is capable of having treated Irelyn, and I know you wouldn’t want to go to the hospital.”

  “The hospital is exactly where she should be, Dr. Hamil,” Allison snarled.

  “We really appreciate you coming—both of you,” Sloan said as he sat me on his bed and took a position next to me.

  Allison nodded. She opened her medical bag and began to set out the necessary instruments atop Sloan’s dresser.

  Brody sat in a chair next to the bed, and I could tell by his stiff and measured movements he wasn’t anywhere near healed.

  “Can I take a shower?” I asked, arranging the blanket around me.

  “I’d like to examine you first, Kenna. Dr. Hamil tells me you were raped? I should do a rape kit first. When did the assault occur?” Allison pulled on latex gloves.

  “Which time?” I asked, studying the woman. She was tall and slender and pretty enough, I supposed. But her all-business demeanor, accompanied by her navy scrubs and the solemn look on her face, did nothing to ease my nerves.

  “Franklin raped you more than once? Mother fucker!” Sloan’s hands fisted at his sides and his face turned red. He got off the bed and started pacing. “And your injuries? All of his handiwork?”

  “Yes. Uh, no. Not my back and some on my front. Marcus did that when he whipped me.”

  Allison blew out a long breath. “Okay. Well, one thing at a time. I’m going to do a full examine on you and draw some blood. I’ll do a rape kit, and a full panel of tests for sexually transmitted diseases.”

  She and Brody shared a glance, and he asked, “Mr. Sullivan told Dr. Hamil you think you might be pregnant?”

  “I-I. Yeah.” More tears fell, and I wished I could detach myself from all of this. An epic freak-out loomed on the horizon. I just needed to keep control until the exam was finished before letting loose and freaking the fuck out.

  But as I glanced up at Sloan, his pained expression made me flinch, and I realized I wasn’t the only one holding onto an unraveling thread of control. Unfortunately, what I had to say next would make all of this so much worse.

  “I-I’m not sure who the father is.”

  Sloan’s eyes widened, and my gaze dropped to my hands twisting in my lap. “When we were last together—the night Marcus abducted me, we didn’t use protection.”

  “Kenna, you were on birth control.”

  Of course, he would assume that. Sloan and I had never had the safe sex and/or birth control talk. There had seemed to be an unspoken understanding and trust between us. My actions had breached that silent agreement.

  “I had been on a course of antibiotics a week prior. Since they interfered
with the pill’s effectiveness, I quit taking them. I didn’t think we’d be together before I could get back on it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me to use a condom? Jesus, Kenna! If you are pregnant, it could be mine….” His now-pale face looked at me with a tangle of emotions: hurt, sadness, disappointment.

  I dropped my gaze to my bare, dirty feet. “I missed you so much and after what had happened with Zolt and Irelyn…. I wanted badly to be with you. I never know when you’ll come to me.”

  “Kenna.” The softness in the way he said my name had me glancing up at him. Now, regret had joined the other emotions raging through him.

  “How many times were you raped, Kenna?” Allison carefully touched my black eye, her fingers probing and pushing at my cheek to assess the extent of the injury.

  “Twice. The first time was a few weeks ago. The last time was just the other day, but I was unconscious.” I brought my hand to my cheek to stop the throbbing.

  Sloan stalked from the room, and the sound of breaking glass rent the air.

  I tried to get up and go to him, but Brody put a hand on my shoulder. “Give him a moment. This is a lot for him to take in.”

  “I know. I just… God, I really screwed up.” I brushed the tears off my face. “What if this baby is Sloan’s?”

  “Let me do my examination,” Allison said. “Then, you can take a pregnancy test to confirm it. Given the timing, I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty chance it could be either man’s child. Now lie back, please.”

  I did as she asked, lying back and letting her do a full examination, including a rape kit. While Dr. Jenkin’s bedside manner was on the cool side, Brody’s was just the opposite. He held my hand during the exam, the whole time speaking of unimportant things, all meant to keep my mind from the invasion of my body and the pain in my ribs.

  Sloan came back just as she finished. He climbed up on the bed next to me and took my other hand, stroking it with his thumb. His demeanor had shifted from volatile to a simmering, with boiling only a nudge away.

  “I think your ribs are cracked, possibly broken. Without an x-ray, I can’t tell for sure, but your breath sounds are good.” She glared at Brody and gave him what I imagined to be a we-should-be-at-a-hospital glare.

  “However,” she continued, “the treatment is the same. Pain killers and rest. We don’t wrap ribs so it’s just a matter of letting them heal.”

  Allison let out a loud sigh and she glanced at me, then at Sloan before continuing.

  “You can say whatever you need to say, doctor. Unless you don’t want to know?” I glanced over at Sloan and waited for his answer.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “There’s significant vaginal bruising but no tearing. The welts on your front and back are healed though I do think there will be some scaring since some weren’t attended to properly.”

  I thought back to Delaney and how she had tried to help me. Then, I thought back just a few hours ago and what she’d done. I couldn’t imagine taking the life of a man she once cared for and possibly loved.

  A lone tear broke loose and fled down my cheek.

  Sloan brushed it away.

  “You said you were unconscious the last time he raped you?” Allison asked.

  “Yes. They had been driving me around in the back of a van. Joe intercepted it and told the other driver he would take over. When he came into the back of the van, I convinced him to unbind my wrists and ankles by making him think I wanted to have sex with him.” I bit my lip, and Sloan clutched my hand almost painfully tight.

  “I waited for the perfect moment and kicked him in the balls and struck the bridge of his nose with the heel of my palm.” I pulled my hand from Brody’s and looked at the palm I had used to strike Joe. The memories ran through me like a herd of wild horses, coming fast and hard.

  I gasped and squeezed my eyes tight.

  “It’s all right, M’fhíorghrá,” Sloan whispered in my ear. “You are here with me, safe. I won’t let you go.”

  I opened my eyes and nodded, his words giving me the strength I needed to continue.

  “The latch on the door jammed and apparently my attack did little to incapacitate him, because before I could get the door open, Joe had recovered enough to pull me back. He choked me unconscious.”

  A low, guttural growl erupted from Sloan, and I looked over at him. But instead of seeing fury on his face, I saw guilt.

  Fury I could deal with, but guilt was totally different. I didn’t want to blame him, and I didn’t want him to blame himself either, but I was afraid all of that was happening anyway.

  “Do you know whether you hit your head?” Allison asked as she put the blood pressure cuff back in her medical bag.

  “Well, I did have a headache but I don’t know if I hit my head.”

  “All right.” She reached in her bag and pulled out a pregnancy test and handed it to me.

  I sat up, and with a shaking hand, I took it from her, holding it away from me as if it was a snake that would strike at any moment. From this box would come a truth I wasn’t sure I had the ability to handle.

  “Can I take a shower now?” I switched gears in my mind to something I could control.

  Allison glanced at Brody and he nodded. “You can. Take the test first so that we’ll have an answer by the time you get out. Then, we can discuss your options.”

  “Okay. Uh, I don’t have any clothes.”

  “I do. Irelyn brought some over for you the other day.”

  “She did? Oh. Do my parents know I’m here?” I asked apprehensively. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see them but I wasn’t ready.

  “No. I wanted to give you some time before we told them.” Sloan brushed hair from my forehead and kissed it.

  I almost started crying again. My emotions played slap shot with me and I hated the lack of control. Most of all, I hated I might be pregnant with Sloan’s baby and it didn’t matter. If the test was positive—and I knew it would be—there would be no choice for me. I couldn’t risk having Joe Franklin’s child

  Brody stood from his chair, giving me room to get off the bed. Before I could painfully push myself up, Sloan kissed my lips lightly. The searching, sad look in his eyes made me stifle a sob.

  I climbed off the bed and fled to the privacy of the bathroom with the blanket wrapped around me.

  At the bathroom door, I stopped and turned around. “I’m sorry, Sloan. So sorry.”

  I didn’t wait for his response. Instead, I closed the door and took the pregnancy test. Wordlessly, I opened the door and handed Allison the test before shutting the door again. I reached into the shower and turned it to scalding, praying the hot water would wash away what had happened.

  Too bad nothing had that power.

  Under the scalding spray, I started scrubbing my body to the point of pain. I welcomed the new sensation that, for the moment, trumped all the other pain that held my body captive.

  I rubbed at my skin until it was red and raw. The mundane act of cleansing myself had a kind of hypnotic effect on me, and I lost myself until the water slowly transitioned from hot to warm, to cold. I collapsed to the tiled floor and let the cold water wash over my huddled body.

  The cold water numbed me. Numb was good—so much better than the soul-deep, heartbreaking pain that waited just below the surface.

  Numb took my mind to a place where I didn’t have to acknowledge, decide, or deal. But numb couldn’t last forever even if I wanted it too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sloan

  AFTER TEN MINUTES, I went to the bathroom door to check on Kenna. I pushed it open wide enough to peek in and see her standing in the shower. Seeing she seemed to be okay, I went back into the bedroom and chatted with Brody and Alison about nothing in particular.

  I started to panic when another fifteen minutes passed and still no Kenna. I had waited long enough for her to finish. Certainly, the hot water had to run cold by now.

  I opened the shower door to f
ind Kenna shivering and huddled against the tile wall with her knees clutched to her chest.

  Turning off the water, I stepped into the shower. Kenna’s fearful, green-eyed stare broke my heart.

  “You’re freezing, love.” I grabbed a fluffy towel and gently rubbed her skin dry. Then, I wrapped her in the new robe Irelyn had brought for her, and carefully gathered her in my arms. Together, we slid down the wall where I cradled her shaking form against me.

  We sat there for untold minutes while I stroked her back and rubbed her arms. It took everything I had in me to keep the wrath welling inside from exploding. I needed to be here and present for her and not lost in thoughts of revenge and retribution.

  “The test was positive, wasn’t it?” she murmured.

  “Aye,” I croaked.

  “I can’t have this baby, Sloan, even though it might be yours, and having your baby is all I want.” Her voice trailed off leaving the idea uncomfortably hanging in the air.

  The woman I loved may very well be pregnant with my child and it didn’t matter.

  “I just can’t do it.”

  “I know.” I tipped her chin up and kissed her lips sweetly. “I wouldn’t expect you to nor would I ask it of you. I think it’s best to believe it’s not our baby, otherwise it’s too hard.”

  “Why did you leave me that night?” Her voice trembled with sadness and a tinge of blame.

  “Because… Oh God, Kenna, I don’t know.” I searched her gaze looking for the devotion I used to see there, the one I took for granted, but it was gone. The shining hope I normally found in her eyes had been replaced with a pain and hurt accompanied with an accusatory glare. I bit down on my back teeth hard as the bitter taste of guilty filled me.

  “I’m sorry, love. I keep failing the people I swore to protect. I thought Chris was my biggest failure until this happened.”

  I expected her to demand an explanation, but instead she stroked my cheek. Now, her gaze turned sympathetic as if she knew my secrets, though I had no idea how. I realized, with cold clarity, that all the times I’d stayed away from her had been a waste.