Sawyer paused. “You do realize you’ve got it so bad for her.” Then the line went dead.
Porter didn’t need anyone to tell him how attached he’d become to Kenzie. He experienced the draw to her right down to his bones. Possibly it had all been amplified because a submissive under his personal care had been endangered. None of this was about gaining her trust so that he could prove himself to the Club Sin Masters and members.
Kenzie was all that mattered.
He exited his car, scanning the parking lot, immediately spotting a navy-blue Nissan Altima next to Chloe’s car. Curiosity about the car’s owner led him into his office. He entered; there wasn’t much to the space. Four desks rested in the main room for the other private investigators he employed, including Chloe, with his small office at the back and a storage closet in the right corner.
The door slammed shut behind him, and he spotted Chloe sitting at her desk outside his office. Then he zeroed in on the man with the briefcase sitting in front of her desk. Porter caught a glimpse of the side of his face, noticing the man was likely in his early fifties, with wrinkles surrounding his eye. When Porter reached the desk, the man looked at him, and Porter saw nothing in the man’s blue eyes. No warmth. No tenderness. Simply a hard shell of a man stared back at him.
“Good. You’re here,” Chloe said, rising from her chair. She left all the papers at her desk and waved out to the man. “Porter Marshall, this is Rocco Sanders.”
Porter noted that Chloe had tightness in her expression and in her voice, telling Porter that she didn’t like the man sitting with her, but that he was also a very good lead.
Rocco stood from his seat and offered his hand, so Porter shook it and said, “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Rocco replied.
Porter lowered his hand and stretched out his fingers. Even Rocco’s handshake was too firm, too focused on proving his strength, and Porter’s shoulders stiffened in response. He respected dominant men, as he understood them, but men who dominated with force and out of fear were nothing he could respect. “Please follow me.”
He entered his office, which had a desk at the back and a filing cabinet against the wall, hearing Rocco and Chloe following behind. His heart rate kicked up and he hoped that whatever Chloe had discovered would finally put this situation with Kenzie to rest.
Porter sat in the chair behind his desk, and Rocco sat across from him as Chloe dropped down next to Rocco and said, “Mr. Sanders, would you please show Porter what you showed me?”
Rocco opened his briefcase. “I work…” He hesitated, and his voice drew tighter. “I worked for Adrik Petrov for ten years.”
Anger rose in Porter’s chest that Rocco was connected so personally to Adrik, but he tamped it down. “What did you do for him?”
Darkness filled Rocco’s eyes. “That isn’t important.”
Porter wanted to snort at him, yet right now his thoughts were only on Kenzie. If this criminal, which was exactly what Porter thought he was, had a means to help her, he didn’t care about anything else. “All right. Go on.”
Rocco reached down into his briefcase and pulled out a stack of photos, then placed them on the desk. The first shot was of a coffee shop. The next one was a shot of Adrik coming out of the store with a gas can in his hand. From there, they painted an uglier picture as Adrik was in each one, and they showed that Adrik had set the coffee shop on fire.
Porter lifted his head to Rocco. “Where did you get these?”
“I took them.” Rocco leaned back in his chair, with not a single trace of guilt rippling across his expression. Porter had seen it before; most criminals had no loyalty. Some did, of course. Most, though, would turn their backs on anyone.
Porter gave Chloe a quick look, and she lifted her brows, reflecting that they had exactly what they needed to confront Adrik. Though Porter needed to know more about where this information came from. If they went to Adrik, it couldn’t backfire in their faces. “Why would you take these pictures of Adrik?”
Rocco shrugged. “Call it a way to protect my own ass.”
Porter snorted now, hating that he had to go to these measures to get to Adrik. Dealing with Rocco didn’t sit well, but at times one had to take the lesser of two evils for the greater good. Kenzie deserved to keep her store, and he wouldn’t let some scumbag railroad her. “What did Adrik do to you?”
Hot rage flared across Rocco’s features, intense enough that Chloe shifted away from him in her seat, but Porter leaned forward across his desk as Rocco said, “Adrik feels powerful, like nothing could ever touch him. He assisted in my downfall that made me lose everything I had, including my wife. Now I am returning the gesture. That is all this is.”
Porter examined the photos again, surprised by what he saw. “From what I’ve seen of Adrik, he has sent others to do his work for him. Why would he risk himself setting this fire?”
Rocco gave a menacing grin. “The owner of the coffee shop got Adrik arrested for harassment when the owner wouldn’t sell to him. When Adrik skirted the charge, this was his payback.”
Chloe interjected, “But why would he do it himself, knowing that all fingers would likely be pointed at him?”
“Because he has a God complex,” Rocco retorted. “He knows no one can touch him. He has half of Vegas in his pocket. And he trusted all of who were with him that night.”
“Including you?” Porter offered.
Rocco gave a firm nod. “Including me.”
Porter regarded Rocco, wondering over his intentions. “Why are you bringing these forward now?”
Chloe injected, “Through my digging, I realized that a year ago Rocco was taken off Adrik’s payroll. I approached him and here we are.”
Rocco inclined his head. “Call it revenge or justice, but Adrik will get what’s coming to him.”
Porter sighed, disliking this personal vengeance Rocco had for Adrik. Not that he didn’t think Adrik deserved to have his world ripped apart, but it complicated things. It made it a little too personal. “I’m sorry to tell you that we will not be using these to get Adrik arrested. This is for a personal matter.”
Rocco grinned with a few teeth missing. “I don’t care what you use them for. As long as it in some way fucks Adrik, then we’ll be squared up. Besides, the legal system can’t get him. This is my way to ensure some payback and I get what I deserve.”
Porter studied the pictures, knowing they had the perfect way to sway Adrik into leaving Kenzie alone. Though he also knew he would need the assistance of Sawyer to get this done. But it was damning enough that Adrik could be arrested. It was certainly enough to get Adrik to rethink his decision to force Kenzie’s hand. Trickles of hope rose in his chest, and he felt like they finally had something they could go on, but he knew the type of man he sat across from. The emptiness that lay in his soul. The greed that came along with this type of information. “I’m taking it you want something for these. What’s your price?”
“Half a million,” Rocco said, without blinking an eye.
Chloe’s heavy sigh filled the room.
Half a million dollars was a hefty price. Porter never paid that much money for anything. Typically, photos cost about ten grand apiece. “Is that a firm price?”
Rocco nodded. “You want Adrik. I want the money that Adrik took from me.”
Porter’s lips parted to request that Rocco elaborate on that, though he figured it was likely a business deal that went bad, or Adrik had promised funds and hadn’t delivered. He decided to close his mouth, not caring what happened between Adrik and Rocco, focusing only on Kenzie.
She didn’t have this money, he was sure of that. Her store might’ve been successful, but she didn’t drive a fancy car and her apartment’s furnishings appeared to be from the eighties. Porter sighed, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, when his phone ringing snapped him out of his thoughts. He grabbed it from his pocket and looked to the screen, seeing it was Sawyer. A cold blast of concern washed throu
gh him as he clicked the phone. “What’s happened?”
“Kenzie’s left the store.”
Porter rose from his seat. “What do you mean she’s left the store?”
Sawyer’s voice vibrated with an equal intensity. “I couldn’t see her through the window anymore and kept seeing another woman, so I went to check in. It appears that another employee came in and Kenzie went out the back.”
Porter gritted his teeth, barely managing to say, “Alone?”
Sawyer sighed. “Alone.”
—
The sun blazed down on Kenzie’s shoulders as she took a seat on the river’s edge. The light breeze brushed across her, fluttering the long grass. She had tried to stay at work this morning, but after an hour she knew she couldn’t be there today. Needing to be somewhere else, she called in her daytime employee and left when Sammy arrived. She had known that once Sawyer found out he’d call Porter. Kenzie imagined he’d be less than thrilled, but this moment wasn’t about Porter, it was about her.
Earlier this morning when Porter issued the spanking, something broke inside her right then and there. Something she couldn’t run from anymore. Perhaps her soul awakened, and she realized she didn’t want Porter to make her feel better—she wanted to feel better on her own. He gave her what she needed—of course he did, with the spanking—and that centered her in a way she hadn’t been grounded since she’d had her first scene with Porter. She couldn’t depend on anyone else but herself to heal, and that’s what brought her to the river today.
The drive had taken half an hour and was a quiet drive, with a sunny day guiding her way. She wondered if she would have forgotten the directions to the lake that forever changed her life, but after she parked her car at the entrance and headed into the forest, she knew exactly where to go. The lake had clearly been burned into her mind.
She strode along the pathway, heading through the thick forest, knowing things had taken a turn far worse then she could’ve anticipated. The intensity of their scene this morning gave her clarity, and with that, she seemed only to see how much of a mess she truly was, and how much she wanted to change that.
More than anything, she was tired of running from herself.
Before Porter she’d been okay, or so she’d thought. Now she recognized that she had avoided her issues for too long and hid from herself for far longer than she should have. She thought she’d been strong, but now she doubted that belief. Her heart clenched as she accepted that she had portrayed strength, when in reality she’d simply given up, hiding away so no one could see how much she was hurting.
She glared down into the dark water that stole her sister’s life, and everything seemed to catch up with her now. Memories were no longer haunting her; they were simply there…all the time…
Kenzie curled her legs up underneath her on the couch. People were stuffed into her small house. Some people were crying. Others were sharing stories of Joslyn. Kenzie didn’t know what to do, except sit there. No one talked to her, and those who did looked at her with pity.
Unease crept through her as she wondered if everyone would always watch her that way. She didn’t like the whispers they were sharing while they kept a close eye on her.
She’d never been to a funeral before. She hoped she would never go to one again. Such a weird thing, she thought. Her mother was busy preparing food for everyone, and Kenzie figured that was simply to keep her mind off what happened. Teachers from Kenzie’s and Joslyn’s school talked about how wonderful Joslyn was while they ate the small sandwiches, and an ache formed in Kenzie’s chest.
What would she do without Joslyn?
Needing to get away, she rose and pushed through the crowd, seeing everyone inspecting her. That poor girl, their eyes reflected. She looked to the floor, despising how people observed her as if life would never be the same for her again.
Once she reached the back door, she inhaled a deep breath and exited the house. The air was fresher and not as thick out there. She moved quickly to the swing and jumped on it, instantly pumping her legs to go higher. She leaned her head back, shutting her eyes, wishing this was all some nightmare she could wake up from.
“Kenzie, my dear.”
She scraped her feet against the grass, coming to a halt and noticing Gran in front of her with her arms open. Gran’s eyes were soft and the wind rustled her short gray hair. “Come with me, sweetheart.”
Kenzie pushed off the swing, moving into Gran’s warm arms and being led to the bench on the back porch. Gran sat first and Kenzie followed, snuggling herself into Gran’s hold as the dark sky reflected her mood. “I couldn’t be in there anymore,” she whispered.
Gran tightened her arms around Kenzie, and her voice became gentle. “That’s all right, darling. You don’t need to be. We’ll stay right here until everyone leaves.”
Kenzie forced herself back from the memory, tears trickling down her cheeks. God, she missed Gran’s hold—the warm embrace that told her everything was going to be okay. That no matter what happened, she had Gran’s love. Kenzie had craved that hold more than once in her life.
Noise came from downstairs in the bookstore, and Kenzie curled up on the couch, staring out at the dreary day. Even the sky was fighting against its tears. All day it seemed like it was going to rain, but it hadn’t. Not through the church ceremony of her mother’s funeral, and not when they got back to the bookstore to hold the lunch that Kenzie never understood. If Kenzie died, she didn’t want the people she loved to busy themselves with making stupid sandwiches for people she was only an acquaintance with. She hoped they’d just spent time together.
Staring at the gray sky, she couldn’t cry anymore. In fact, she found herself able to cry only on the day she saw her mother lying dead in her bed. No more tears, Kenzie told herself. She couldn’t possibly fall apart anymore. Her soul felt frozen, almost stuck in time, shocked by the events that had unfolded in the last year.
Kenzie heard the door creak open, and she shifted her head against the couch, seeing Gran entering the apartment. Wearing a long black dress, Gran examined Kenzie in the way she did with her soft features, then she moved to her. She grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over Kenzie before sitting down and shifting Kenzie’s legs onto her lap.
Gran said nothing, so Kenzie stared out the window again, wishing the sky would cry. Almost as if it could show her how to do it. A few minutes passed before Gran said, “I know you don’t want to talk about what you’re feeling. I’m never going to make you, but I want you to hear me and never forget what I’m going to tell you now, okay?”
Kenzie nodded against her leg, continuing to look out the window.
“Don’t let what your mother has done lead your life,” Gran said with thick sadness in her voice. “What she has done was her choice. It was selfish. It was heartless. Don’t let your legacy be what your mother has left.”
“I’ll never be like her,” Kenzie all but spat. There might be no room for sadness, but it appeared there was plenty of room for anger.
Gran squeezed Kenzie’s leg and sighed. “I know that, my love, but don’t let darkness guide you, either. You’re too special. A light in this beautiful world, and it would be a shame for that light to go out. Feel what you have to feel now. But don’t stay long in this anger, Kenzie, and don’t let it destroy you.”
Drawn back from that moment, Kenzie grasped the grass below her as her chest heaved with her deep breaths. She remembered those words that Gran had said as if it were yesterday. Kenzie also knew a truth in her soul—when Gran had lived, Kenzie had stayed that girl for Gran—hid the anger and the hurt—but when Gran died, that restraint had left Kenzie. All that filled her was red-hot anger, as it did now.
She scowled down into the dark water, and her body quaked from the inside out. “Why did you have to die?” she heard herself saying. “Why did everything have to change?” Things were so normal before Joslyn’s death, what childhood should be.
Happy.
Innocent.
She recalled the moment when her mother said Kenzie should’ve died, not Joslyn, and tears leaked from her eyes as her voice rose, her anger pouring from her body. “It shouldn’t have been me.” The wind breezed by her, feeling like icy fingertips brushing across her flesh. “It shouldn’t have been anyone.”
A rock lay in front of her and she picked it up and threw it into the water, not sensing sadness welling inside her but more and more fury. Not at her life now. At the life that had been handed to a little girl who should’ve been riding bikes and laughing with friends, not being known as the girl whose sister died and whose mother killed herself.
Her chest constricted as she jumped to her feet, grabbing another rock and throwing it with all her might. “How could you do this to me?” she screamed, without knowing who she was screaming at. Her mother; her sister; Gran, for leaving her when she was the only one that Kenzie had left. “If you never left me, I would never have had to face life knowing that I had nothing.”
Her screams were loud, but she didn’t care who heard her. She didn’t care about anything right now, except for the rage vibrating through her. “I needed all of you. I didn’t deserve this. I shouldn’t have been left here. Alone. Without any of you.” She dropped to her knees, feeling everything inside of her breaking open, tears raining down her cheeks.
She wanted to scream to the heavens above, fight against anything she could to somehow regain what had been lost to her. To somehow right all the wrongs. To find the innocence of her childhood. To remember the time when she came to this camp and was just a kid. To experience moments of happiness that weren’t stolen away by tragedy. To believe that life didn’t end in despair. To trust that happiness could last forever.
“I hate you!” she shouted, knowing there were so many people she was saying that to. “I hate death. I hate suicide. I hate that you all broke my heart. I hate that you gave me this life, one where I don’t trust. One where I don’t believe I deserve to be happy. One where I doubt everyone around me. One where I can’t be open to love without the fear that it will break me.” Her voice hitched and she dropped her head, sobbing loudly now and placing her hands on the grass below, the only thing grounding her to reality. “I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
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