One More Minute With You

by Sierra Hill

“I don’t know, Kenz. We have an opportunity that doesn’t come along every day. Most musicians work their entire lives and never get a chance like we have right now.” He shifted to his side so he was facing her, brushing his hand up and down her arm.

  “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me nervous. Not because I don’t think we’d make it…but because I know we would. And I’ve seen how it can fuck with a person’s head. It did with my dad…and to my ex. And I was the unwilling victim in each of their successes.”

  He watched Kenzie’s face as her emotions flitted across her features. He’d shared with her about how he was so callously screwed over by Chyna, and she also knew about his dad’s selfish behavior and how it destroyed his family. He’d laid himself bare and exposed his past secrets to her – all his fears about abandonment and broken trust. Yet, he could still tell Kenzie was reticent to tell him about her own past.

  Kenzie gave him a tight smile. “I would never do anything like that to you. That’s not me. I’ve been hurt in the past, too. In a different way – but by people that I loved and trusted.”

  Remy was surprised by what she said. Kenzie had always remained tight-lipped about her past. The only things he’d gleaned up to that point had been that she’d grown up in Seattle, had been close to her grandmother who passed away and had graduated from the PNW School of Arts. Other than that, he knew bupkis about the person she was aside from what was in front of him now. He knew her hopes and dreams and that she was a phenomenal singer, songwriter and the sexiest woman he knew. And she was an amazing cook.

  “You want to tell me about it?” he asked hesitantly, worried he’d pushed her too far. “About who broke your heart?”

  He continued to stroke her arm, from the top of her shoulder down to the subtle curve of her hip, letting his touch speak for him. To show his support and encouragement. Of his interest in finding out what made her who she was today - the woman he loved.

  “I guess in some ways, we’re a lot more similar than you might think.”

  Remy cocked his eyebrow in curiosity.

  She sighed. “Our fathers. Our ex’s. They fucked with our hearts and weren’t there for us when we needed them.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She hadn’t meant to drop that bombshell on his doorstep – to share any of her baggage with Remy. Didn’t mean to spill her guts when it came to her past. Talking about it was something she wasn’t comfortable with and wanted to keep the memories locked up tight and buried down deep enough that she’d forget about them someday. But she knew that was impossible.

  Wrapped tightly in Remy’s arms, though, it just felt right. She felt comforted. Protected. Secure.

  He’d been so open with her about all his troubles with his dad, the loss of his mom and even the devastation he’d experienced when his ex-girlfriend and uncle turned his world upside down. How could she not be compelled to reciprocate when he’d opened up his heart to her?

  This man was perfect in his imperfections. Perfect for her. And she wanted nothing more than to share everything with him. Let him sooth her with his words of assurance. Bathe her in his compassion. Assuage her fears with his comforting embrace.

  Kenzie scooted up so that her back rested against the headboard, tugging the sheet up with her to cover her breasts. Modesty was a necessity when she was about to come clean about her messed up life.

  “You know I moved here from Seattle after I graduated.” She paused and looked down into his face, a little smirk edging around his lips.

  “Through my mad powers of deduction. And your sic latte-making skills. Yes.”

  She playfully pushed at his shoulder, causing him to lose balance for a second before he propped himself up again on his elbow, one hand absently strumming against her thigh.

  “Yeah, I haven’t been very forthcoming about my life. I have my reasons not to trust…men in particular. I grew up with my grandmother and my dad. My mom died when I was only a year old. I never knew her. But I was always loved. I was the apple of my dad’s eye.” She huffed out a sarcastic laugh.

  “Until I wasn’t. You see, he had specific plans for me. I know he had my best interests at heart, but he wanted something for me that I didn’t. He was angry when I chose to attend the Performing Arts School instead of UW. He thought music was just a hobby and not a career option. He wanted to groom me to join him in his advertising agency, to take over the helm someday. He wanted the best for me…I get that. But it was never what I wanted.”

  “My dad, Ken, got over it eventually. He’d come to all of my performances at school. He supported me. He was a really good dad.”

  Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill if she didn’t get her emotions in check. Blinking them away, she took a breath before continuing.

  “I met Seth my last semester of my junior year. He was actually a senior at UW, majoring in Business. We met one night at a bar in Belltown. I’d dated him a few months before I introduced him to my dad. I think my dad fell more in love with him than I did. They were two peas in a pod. I swear, they were more right for each other than Seth and I ever were.”

  Kenzie lessened her grip on the sheet, shaking her head at the memory of coming home one weekend and finding her dad and Seth in the garage, drinking beers and talking about all his fishing equipment. They had been planning a weekend trip to Idaho to do some fly fishing in the Cascades. Something she had no desire to join in on.

  “Anyway, I thought Seth was the one. The first six months were perfect. He’d graduated that summer and gotten a job with, you guessed it, my dad’s firm. I went into my senior year and then things just changed. Seth started to get jealous and possessive. I couldn’t go out with my friends any more without him questioning everything – what was I doing? Who was I with? When would I be home? Did anyone try to hit on me? It was ridiculous.

  “My friends all thought it was sweet that he was so in love with me. But it freaked me out. He was turning into this controlling monster and no matter what I did, it was never good enough. He cut me down behind closed doors. He made me feel like I was stupid. Inferior. Unworthy. And I began to believe it.”

  Remy grabbed her hand, squeezing gently. “Oh hell, Kenz. You are so beyond worthy it’s not even funny. This guy was a piece of shit who was obviously scared by how perfect you were. Are.”

  Their gazes met, and he leaned in to kiss her exposed shoulder. His touch sent her heart skittering, like a kitten chasing after a toy on the linoleum floor.

  “Thank you. I was really messed up by it. And then my grandmother died and the one woman in my life, who’d always encouraged my musical passions and built me up, was gone. And in its place was this guy who claimed to love me but was destroying my self-esteem and confidence with every negative put-down he gave me. I was at the lowest point in my life. And my dad was buried in his own grief over losing his mother, so I couldn’t confide in him. And then it finally happened…”

  Remy’s fingers had stilled against her thigh as if bracing himself against an oncoming tidal wave.

  “It was mid-May. I had been working my butt off preparing for finals, finishing up my final senior project and getting ready for graduation. Seth had been super stressed and tweaking out over every little thing, and I never knew what would set him off. I was walking around on eggshells and couldn’t seem to do anything right. Anyway, my classmates wanted to have one last hurrah one night. I didn’t invite Seth because, well, I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy myself around him.

  “We went out to a bar close to campus. It was pretty warm for that time of year, so we’d all dressed in spring attire. I was wearing a mini-skirt,” she chuckled when Remy let out a groan of appreciation, his hand tracing down her thigh to her knee and back up again.

  “I know – big shocker, right? Well, needless to say, I couldn’t wear short skirts around him anymore because he would flip out. But I was going to have fun that night. And I did – until he showed up unexpectedly. He was so angry – I could
see it in his eyes and his tight jaw. The way his hand gripped hard around my waist. But no one else could see it because he was the master of charm. Underneath that mask, he was simmering. I was scared of him and what he might do but I didn’t know how to handle it. So I left with him that night.”

  As if he knew exactly where it was all heading, Remy moved closer, his arms wrapped tightly around her hips.

  Kenzie trembled in fear over the memory of that night. How she had escaped that nightmare was anyone’s guess. But she did and she learned her lesson. Never again would she be someone’s whipping post.

  “We went back to my apartment and he was eerily quiet the entire way home. We walked into my kitchen and I asked him if he wanted a bottled water. I got two out of the fridge and as soon as I turned around, he was on me, shoving me hard against the door. His hands dug into my arms so hard I dropped the bottles from the pain. His face looked so ugly I barely recognized him as the same person I fell in love with.

  “He started spouting off at me about what I wore that night. How much of a whore I was, making guys in the bar want to fuck me. And maybe they did, he said, and that’s why I didn’t invite him along that night. Because I must’ve been a slut and probably slept with those guys behind his back. Oh my God, Seth went Charles Manson insane on me that night. And I’d had enough. I wasn’t going to take that shit from him when I wasn’t in the wrong. I had never even flirted with another guy.”

  Kenzie clenched her fisted hands on her lap, reliving the anger from that night that had coursed through her body.

  “He still had me locked against the refrigerator, so I tried to push him off. The first time he barely budged, so I tried harder the second time, yelling at him to get off me. He let me go then, and I pushed past him. Then, before I knew it, he grabbed hold of my arm, swung me back around and his fist was in my face.”

  Remy’s voice was controlled rage. “That motherfucker.”

  Instinctively, Kenzie’s hand went to her face, caressing her left cheekbone and jawline, as if the physical pain was still evident.

  She chuckled darkly. “I’m surprised I didn’t fall to the floor after he punched me, but somehow I stayed on my feet. I was in shock. No one had ever hit me before. I only remembered one time when I was maybe five or six when my dad swatted my butt for stealing a cookie. But other than that? Never. I took a few steps back and out of the kitchen, trying to get to the front door. But he was faster and was in front of me in a flash. He grabbed me and threw me down onto the couch.

  “I saw the intent in his eyes. He was crazed with some sort of dark, lustful rage. He wasn’t seeing me any longer as the girl he loved. I don’t know what I was to him in that moment. But he was a monster. I knew he was going to rape me if I didn’t do something. I struggled to get away, but he had me pinned down. He was ripping at my clothes, trying to get my skirt up. I hit. I clawed. I screamed. I was frantic.”

  “Holy shit,” Remy said, his voice now interlaced with sympathy. “Did he…did you, um…”

  She shook her head, keeping her eyes averted and pointed up to the ceiling, the tears welling in her eyes. She breathed in slowly, filling her lungs with fresh air to keep herself under control. She had to remind herself that she got through it. She survived. She was not a victim.

  “When my grandmother died, I inherited many of the knickknacks she collected. She traveled all over the world and always brought home some sort of treasured item from her adventures. When I went through her house after her death, I chose the ones that were my favorites. One in particular was a Bavarian beer stein she’d gotten in Germany. It was made of pewter. It was really heavy.

  “I was lying on the couch, his hand clutching at my throat holding me down, his other tearing at my clothes. My hands were flailing and somehow I grabbed hold of that stein from the end table and slammed it down over his head.”

  Kenzie closed her eyes as the picture of his bloodied face and head flashed before her. He’d fallen over onto the floor, semi-conscious. It had given her just enough time to leap to her feet and rush out the door, where she ran to her car and drove to her dad’s house.

  “Did you go to the police? I hope that fucker was arrested and thrown in jail.” Remy pushed himself up to a sitting position, his hard body pressed tightly against hers.

  She wished she could tell him what he wanted to hear. But some things don’t always go as planned and don’t always work out as they should. Life wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t always just.

  “I went to my dad. I knew he’d help me and would take care of me. I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Listening to Kenzie tell her story about the abuse she suffered had him pissed off to the point where all he wanted to do was to go punch someone. Preferably the son of a bitch living up in Seattle. And if he hadn’t had to go to work that morning, he would have bought a ticket and flown up there just to exact his revenge on that fucking loser.

  And after he was done with her ex, he’d go have a nice long talk with Kenzie’s father who had broken her heart by failing to stand by his daughter and believe in her when she needed him most.

  His concentration was shot, his mind clouded with images of Kenzie trying to fend off her attacker. He’d been messing around with the sound board, trying unsuccessfully to mix a demo a trio had just finished recording an hour before, but all he could think about was a fist being slammed into her beautiful face.

  Remy dropped his head in his hands, his fingers rubbing over his eyes and down his jaw. The anger and unstoppable rage over what she had gone through and subsequently ran away from tore at his insides, his stomach tightening in painful knots.

  The fact that she survived and flourished under those circumstances was a testament to her strength and courage. He’d been charmed by her beauty and grace from the moment he’d met Kenzie, but that girl continued to amaze him with her effervescence and optimism. She had remained a bright light in a world that was cruel and dark.

  When Kenzie had told him about how her father responded to the fact that Seth had hit and attacked her, Remy nearly fell to his knees asking for forgiveness for the entire male gender. The way her father had failed to protect her – to believe in her – was unimaginable. Regardless of Remy’s past with his own dad, at least he knew his father believed in him and would do anything for Remy if he needed it.

  Kenzie had gone to her father immediately after Seth beat her and even though he saw the evidence on her face – a bruised cheek and bloodied lip – he told her to let things cool down. To not involve the cops. He told her that Seth was in the wrong, but it wasn’t something she should ruin his life over because of one moment of anger.

  Was he fucking serious?

  That animal could have killed her. And although she escaped this time, had she not left when she did, he could have continued until he accomplished that very act. And her father would have shrugged his shoulders in complacency.

  If Remy ever met either one of these men, there was no telling what he’d do to them. He wasn’t a violent person, had never even been in a fist-fight as a kid. But then again, he’d never had a reason to beat someone up. To pummel them so hard their teeth rattled and their eyes hit the back of their heads.

  His phone beeped and brought him out of his superhero, crime fighting vigilante daydream. A text from Kenzie.

  Hey. Your dad and his bandmate are here. They want to talk about our demo. You home soon?

  Huh. That was unexpected. Why would his dad just show up at their apartment like that without advance warning? He didn’t even know his dad was still in town.

  Yeah. Sure, I’ll be there in fifteen.

  Remy looked around the studio, mentally noting what was still left to finish up the demo he was working on so he could complete it the next day. At the moment, he needed to get back home to find out what his dad wanted with their demo.

  The days were getting shorter and the weather a little cooler as they approached fall. Rem
y pulled up his hoodie over his head as he locked the studio doors behind him and walked the few blocks home.

  As he rounded the corner just down the street from his apartment, the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle. He had the odd sensation that someone was watching him. Under the guise of pulling up the collar of his coat to cover his face, he covertly scanned the street behind him, searching out anything or anyone unusual.

  It wasn’t an overly crowded street this time of day so only a handful of pedestrians wondered around. A woman walked into the deli across the road, a guy with a dog bent down to pick up his pup’s leftovers and a couple walked hand-in-hand, blissfully unaware of anything else that existed around their happy little couple bubble.

  No one caught his attention in a creepy sort of way. Weird. Maybe he was just overly sensitive now that they’d garnered the interest of so many people after their performance the other night. And knowing his father was still in town, it could have been just some paparazzi looking for a candid shot.

  Shaking off the uneasiness, he stepped through the archway of his building and walked through the foyer and up the stairs, taking one last glance behind him. Nothing unusual or out of place, but he still couldn’t let go of the feeling of being watched. It made no sense.

  His hand flexed on the doorknob of his apartment when he heard Kenzie’s laugh – a sensual sound that made his dick stand up and take notice. Opening the door, his eyes scanned the scene in front of him.

  His father was in the kitchen, his phone to his ear, talking rapidly in French, his back to the current happenings in the living room. Shifting his gaze to the couch, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed in disgust and fury at what he saw.

  The bastard Brian was nuzzling Kenzie’s neck, leaning in so half of his face was covered by the silky blonde sheets of her hair. Brian’s arm was possessively wrapped around her hips, nudging her toward his lap.

  It was nearly an exact replication of the moment two years ago when he walked in to find Brian screwing Chyna in the bathroom.