by Kris Norris
Kendall rolled over. “For your information, I’m not brooding, I’m thinking. I just happen to be angry at the same time.”
“Hence the word brooding.”
“What does it matter to you? You got what you wanted. You should be happy!”
“I’ll admit I’m glad you can’t turn yourself over to Garrick. But seeing you like this doesn’t make me happy.” He held out the cup, trying hard to hold her gaze.
She could feel the tears falling down her face, and wondered if they were the cause of the swirl of pain in his eyes. She watched him take a ragged breath.
“Now please, take the tea.” He mumbled something under his breath when she hesitated. “I won’t consider it a surrender, only a temporary truce. Please.”
Kendall stared at the cup, trying to ignore the desperation in his voice. She felt cold, and the tea looked hot. She took it, enjoying the warmth in her hands. Then she raised it to her lips and took a cautious sip.
“It’s not like I poisoned it.”
“Poison isn’t what I’m afraid of.” She held his stare.
“There’s some food on the counter if you’re in the mood.” He got up and walked to the door.
“I understand why you did it,” she said as he breached the door. “But that doesn’t make it right. Not even a little.”
He turned. “I’d do it again if given the choice. I’d rather have you hate me than let that monster have you.”
She set her teeth. “I don’t hate you.”
“No. But you’ll never forgive me.” He waited for a reply, but none came. He forced a smile and left.
* * * *
“It’s okay, Dawson’s not here. He’s outside with Mitchell. He said something about fixing the road, so no one could come up here.” Trace didn’t bother to look at Kendall standing in the doorway, but continued working on his crossword. “There’s some fruit on the counter if you’re interested.”
“So, is this some type of safe house?” she asked, grabbing an apple out of the bag.
“No. These are the cabins Logan wanted us to go to. I think they’re buying some time until they can get a place ready.”
“Great.” She walked over to the window. The view was breathtaking. Snow covered peaks in the distance and trees stretching across the horizon. Dawson and Mitchell were walking up the gravel road, talking. Even at this distance Dawson looked tired, hollow.
“He’s not the enemy you know. He’s only doing all this because he cares about you.”
“I don’t doubt his sincerity, Trace, but he had no right to bring me here like he did. It should’ve been my choice. You of all people should understand that.”
“He didn’t know how drugging you would scare you, Kendall. It’s not his fault.”
She whirled on Trace. “I would’ve told him if he’d bothered to ask!” She pouted, eyeing Trace suspiciously. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell him.”
“As I recall, you swore me to secrecy.” He broke her gaze. “It’s been a long time, sis.”
Kendall sighed, looking back out the window. Trace was right. It had been a long time. But not long enough to erase the fear being drugged had instilled in her. She glanced back at her brother over her shoulder. “I just don’t think Dawson understands how it feels to be hunted, to be trapped.”
“He understands far more than you give him credit for.”
Kendall turned. Trace’s tone had been judgmental. “Are you trying to tell me something Trace?”
“No.”
“Trace!”
“He never told you, did he?”
“Never told me what?”
“That he was abducted when he was ten.”
Kendall stilled. “What?”
“Yeah. Some guy snatched him on the way home from school. He’d been stalking him for nearly a month. Took him to an abandoned building. Kind of like the one Garrick took me to.” Trace paused, staring off for a few moments. He looked back at her. “Mitchell told me the creep kept him there for two weeks. Had him tied to a drainpipe. He said Dawson was near death when the Feds found him. It seems they staged a very impressive assault to free him. One of the men died. I think that’s why he became an agent. Out of respect for the guys who saved his life.”
Kendall stared at her brother as his words seared her heart. She knew Dawson had been hiding something, but she’d never suspected it was that. She turned back to the window. He was standing off to the right, still talking to Mitchell. Even tired he was handsome, and she smiled at the way the sun accentuated the bit of red in his hair. “I didn’t know.”
“He’s going out on a limb for us, sis. You might want to cut him some slack.” Trace joined her at the window. “I know it was wrong to drug you. And I’m sorry about the way it made you feel. But that doesn’t change the fact he’s risking his life to keep you safe. Mitchell too.”
“What am I supposed to do if Garrick kills him, or Mitchell? How am I supposed to live with that?”
“Have faith. Dawson outsmarted him once before. He can do it again.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not in love with him.” She took a bite of her apple and headed for the couch.
Trace smiled and followed her back to the chair. “All the more reason to trust him. Now quit being difficult and help me out. I need a five-letter word for ‘inflexible.’ ”
Kendall laughed. “Have you tried ‘woman’?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“So you decided to grace us with your presence. Most unexpected.” Dawson stepped through the door with Mitchell.
“You know, if you’re going to have that kind of attitude I can just go back in the room,” said Kendall.
“Does that mean you’re going to play nice?” he asked.
“No. But since I’m the one here against my will, I don’t see why I should have to suffer. That room’s cold and it smells funny.”
“I can’t do anything about the smell, but there’re blankets if you’re cold.” He walked over to one of the cupboards and removed a thick wool blanket. “Here.” He tossed it at her.
“Thank you.” Her reply was curt. She shook it out and wrapped it around her shoulders. She didn’t know why she was so cold. Trace was wearing far less than she was and he seemed fine.
“It’s a side effect from the sedative,” said Dawson, reading the expression on her face. “It should wear off by tomorrow.”
“How wonderful. Just in time for you to give me another dose. That’s very convenient.”
“You seem to dislike being controlled in that fashion. If it’ll comfort you any, Director Wells won’t have you drugged if you agree to go willingly. The choice is yours.”
“I get to choose how I go, not if I go. How considerate of the Bureau.”
“I see you’re still intent on making this unpleasant.”
Kendall sighed. She didn’t want to fight with him, but she hated being strong-armed, especially by a man. And she wouldn’t allow them to drug her again, for any reason. She looked away, swallowing her anger. “Can I go outside, or is that off limits?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. There’s no way for Mitchell and I to secure the area. I don’t want Garrick to take you out with a sniper.”
She leveled a smug grin his way. “He doesn’t want me dead, or have you forgotten?”
“I haven’t forgotten what the bastard wants from you, but he’s insane. Anything is possible.” He ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration more than evident. “You’ll have more freedom once we move to the safe house. It’s only a couple of days, Kendall.”
“Come on, sis,” said Trace. “I need another five-letter word. This time it’s for ‘overbearing.’ ”
Kendall smiled. “Try ‘agent.’ ”
“Very funny,” said Dawson, heading for the door. “I’m going to do a sweep of the area. I’ll be back later.” He stomped out.
Kendall snarled and charged the door. She gave Mitchell a hardened glare as he stepped
forward to stop her, and followed Dawson down the steps. “Dawson!”
Dawson spun around, his expression cold. “Dammit, Kendall, I told you not to come outside!” He grabbed her arm. “Now get back in the cabin, or I’ll drag you inside!”
Kendall broke his hold and took a quick step back. “Don’t threaten me.”
“It wasn’t a threat.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Please, go back inside.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“That you were abducted when you ten. I suppose you didn’t think it was important, that I wouldn’t sympathize or understand how you felt.”
Dawson growled and glared at the window. “Did Mitchell tell you?”
“No, Trace did. But it would’ve been nice to hear it from you.”
“I didn’t think it’d matter to you. Besides, you’re so damn stubborn I doubt it would’ve changed anything.”
“How can you say that? After everything that’s happened between us, do you really believe I’m that…that…heartless?” She waited, but he didn’t speak. She backed up, her breath jammed tight in her chest. “I guess I am.”
“Kendall, wait…”
“No. You’re right. I still wouldn’t have come along…not willingly. It’s like you said before, I’m difficult.” She took a ragged breath. Hurt. Betrayal. Loneliness. She felt them all until she felt nothing. Tears tricked down her cheeks as she stared back at him, no longer caring what he thought. “I’m done fighting you, Dawson. I’ll go wherever the Bureau wants. But make no mistake. There’ll be no happy ending. Garrick will wait, and he’ll watch, and he’ll plot. And when the Bureau gets tired of trying to hide us, they’ll walk away, like they always have. It doesn’t matter how long. Garrick will always be there. He told me in the cellar I belong to him, and that I always will, and he was right.” She bowed her head and turned to the door.
“Kendall…”
“You asked me to go inside. I’ll be in my room. There won’t be any need to drug me, just let me know when it’s time to leave.” She ran up the stairs and into the cabin, sealing herself behind the door.
* * * *
“It’s getting late.” Mitchell rose from the table, yawning. “I think we should call it a night.”
“Aren’t you going to check on her?” asked Trace.
“She’ll still be on the bed like she’s been for the last several hours,” replied Mitchell.
Trace motioned to the door.
“Fine. I’ll check.” He slivered it open. “Yep, still on the bed. Hey, Dawson. Would you like me to stay with her tonight?”
“No. I’ll stay.”
Mitchell shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, let me know.” They headed for the door.
“Trace?”
Trace turned back to look at him. Dawson could see the man’s uncertainty as he skirted one more glance at Kendall’s door. “Yes, Dawson?”
“Why does Kendall hate being drugged?”
Trace sighed, and Dawson could tell the man was deciding how much to tell him. “I already told you. Kendall doesn’t like being forced.”
Dawson feigned a smile. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I suppose I should ask her.”
“I doubt she’ll tell you…maybe before, but not now.” Trace looked at the closed door, before drawing a deep breath. “It has to do with our father.”
Dawson raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
“After the explosion, Kendall was plagued with nightmares, and not just the usual. These ones rocked the entire house. It got to the point where everyone was afraid to go to sleep. Then Garrick found us. Kendall went ballistic when Dad stormed into the house and announced we were leaving, immediately. It was too similar to the day Mom died. I guess my father didn’t think there was any time to deal with her, so he went into the bathroom and got some kind of sedative the doctors had given him to treat the nightmares. He’d never used it until that night.”
Trace stopped, once again staring at Kendall’s closed door. “The dose was already measured. All he had to do was jab her with this needle. He held her down even though she begged him not to. She was quiet for weeks after that. It was as if she hadn’t expected to wake up. She eventually got over it until the next event. This time we had to leave in the middle of the night. Dad didn’t even try to wake her. He just walked into her room and tried to put her out. She woke up halfway through. I can assure you, even though it only lasted a few minutes, it was extremely unpleasant.”
“Didn’t he think Kendall wanted to escape from Garrick?” asked Dawson.
“I think Dad was afraid she might go against his wishes.”
“Like in the car that first time.”
Trace nodded. “It saved our lives, but I guess he didn’t see it that way.”
“Did he drug her every time?”
“Until I was able to convince him it wasn’t necessary. I told him I’d be responsible for her, and he agreed. I’m afraid he and Kendall didn’t get along very well. He couldn’t look at her without seeing what Garrick had taken from him. He made Kendall feel pretty bad about everything. That’s why we didn’t move to the vineyard until after he died. Kendall couldn’t take it anymore, and I couldn’t leave her alone knowing what Garrick wanted from her.”
“But didn’t you think Garrick was dead?” asked Dawson.
Trace laughed. “I never believed the bastard was dead, not without a body. The stakes were too high to leave it up to chance.”
“She mentioned you were the only one who ever cared about what happened to her.”
“I hate to admit it, but she’s right. Somehow Dad knew it was Kendall Garrick wanted, and he made it quite clear she meant nothing to him.”
Dawson dropped his gaze, cursing under his breath. He’d made Kendall feel the same way this afternoon. He sighed, looking back up at Trace. “Okay, Trace. That explains why she hates being drugged. But why was she so scared? I’ve never seen her like that, not even when she faced Garrick in the cellar.”
Trace sighed and shook his head. “It took a long time for her to tell me. I had to blackmail it out of her. It seems she always thought Dad was sedating her so he could give her to Garrick. I guess she sensed what Garrick wanted from her even before he gave her those letters. She told me she expected to wake up with him staring down at her. It’s been her greatest fear.”
Dawson clenched his jaw.
Trace stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Dawson. She made me promise never to speak of it again, and I never have.”
“It’s not your fault, Trace. You told me she didn’t like being sedated, and I should’ve delved further into the reason why. Kendall doesn’t scare easily. I should’ve known there was more to it.” He looked away. He was a bastard, plain and simple. No better than Garrick. “Thanks for telling me.” He nodded as they walked out, glancing over at the bedroom door. He wanted to break it down and take her in his arms, beg for the forgiveness he knew she wouldn’t give him, but he couldn’t. He’d let the one opportunity slip by, and now she was all but lost to him. He closed his eyes, wondering if she was asleep, when he heard her scream.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“No daddy, please!”
“There’s no time to argue, Kendall. Now get in the car!”
“But you didn’t let me search for my dragon. You know I can’t sleep without him. Please daddy!” She tugged against his hand, but his grip tightened.
“I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to go back. It’s too dangerous.” He shoved her into the back seat. “I’ll buy you another one. Now put on your seatbelt!”
Kendall cowered in the center, pushing her back against her brother. “Please, just my dragon. I don’t care about any of my other toys. Just please, get my dragon!”
“Come on, Dad,” cried Trace, cradling his sister in his arms. “Just the dragon.”
“There isn’t time,” he insisted, jumping into the front.
&
nbsp; “For God’s sake, David,” said Elizabeth. “Just let me go in and get the damn dragon. I won’t have her mourning it for the next mouth.”
“If we don’t go now, Elizabeth, there won’t be any more months,” he hissed.
“I know where it is. I remember now. I’ll only be a few minutes.” She turned to go, but was stopped by his firm grip.
“Elizabeth.”
She pulled free and opened the door just as Kendall and Trace leapt out of the car, running for the door.
“No!” David pulled Elizabeth back in, snapping her seatbelt shut. “Stay here!” He locked the doors and ran to the house, his footsteps heavy. He caught them just as they breached the doorway. He went to speak when the car exploded, filling the air with a blazing heat.
“Nooo…”
Dawson charged into the room, bouncing the door off the wall, his gun already in his hand. “Kendall!” He couldn’t hide the panic in his voice. He scanned the room, settling on her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her chest heaving, her breathing labored. “It was only a dream.”
He lowered his gun and approached the bed. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Her voice was shaky and thick, and he could see the tears pooling in her eyes. “I didn’t ask you if you’d be okay, Kendall. I asked you if you were okay.”
“You know I’m not.”
“The nightmares haven’t stopped since you got back from the hospital. Garrick again?”
“Not this time.”
“Your mother?”
She looked at him, her expression guarded.
“Trace told me about the explosion. How your father stormed home one day and told you your family was leaving. That he dragged you to the car, made you leave without your favorite toy.” He picked up the dragon resting on the edge of the bed. It was the one thing he’d packed for her. He held it up. “This toy. But you couldn’t bear leaving without it, so you waited until your father got in the front seat, and then you ran back in. Trace followed you. That one act saved your life, and the lives of your family, except your mother. She was still in the car when the bomb went off. That’s why you carry the dragon around with you, isn’t it?”
