Saving Kenna

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Saving Kenna Page 14

by D. L. Raver


  “Kenna, I fucked up. Completely and utterly fucked up. I waited for years to be with you, gave only bits and pieces of myself when you gave everything to me. I’ve been operating under a false agenda, I know that now. But I promise, here and now, I’m never going to fail you again. I swear on my life.”

  She let me kiss her, let me pour all my regrets and promise into this one bitter sweet kiss.

  “I need to get this over with, and erase the last several weeks so that I can start over again. Do you think that’s possible?” She looked up, her forehead creased with worry.

  I wanted to reassure her, tell her it would all be fine, but I didn’t know if it would be.

  “The past is always going to be real, Kenna. You’ll always bear the scars, both mentally and physically. Eventually, you have to find a place to put them where they don’t overshadow the here and now.” I pushed her still-damp hair behind her ear.

  “Have you done that?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I will.”

  “Okay. Promise me one thing?”

  “Anything, love.” I brought her palm to my lips and kissed it.

  “Don’t hate me. Later, when this is all over and you’ve had time to think about it, don’t hate me for not playing the odds.” Kenna placed a hand on her tummy.

  “Never.” I pulled her tight against me and rested my chin on her head. “I might hate myself for not doing better by you, but I could never hate you, M’fhíorghrá.”

  Kenna snuggled into me for a moment, and I let out the long held, fear based breath I had been holding since the day she’d been abducted. With her back in my arms and in one piece, I could finally breathe again.

  “I set out a T-Shirt and a pair of black gym shorts for you,” I said as I helped her stand.

  “Thanks.” A thin smile tugged at the edges of her lips as I turned to leave, but when I turned back to shut the door, I caught Kenna’s reflection in the mirror. My heart sank to my feet and plopped on the floor.

  Physically, she may be in one piece, but only a fool thought this woman had it together. The return of her vacant stare, and the black eye that marred her lovely features, spoke a much different story. So did the quiver beneath the thick robe covering her now-thinner body.

  My Kenna—the one I had left that night—was gone. In her stead, existed this frail, broken woman. Believing anything less was a perfect denial, a beautiful lie I had told myself so that my guilt didn’t consume me.

  I shut the door and found Allison and Brody staring at me questioningly.

  “She’ll be out in a minute.” I straightened my damp black T-Shirt. “She’s getting dressed.”

  “Did you tell her?” Brody asked, wincing has he adjusted his broken arm to what I assumed was a more comfortable position. The dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt pallor of his skin made me wish he hadn’t come at all. He, like Kenna, had a long road to travel before his nightmare faded.

  “I did. She wants an abortion, but I’ll let her tell you that.”

  During all the weeks of her absence, I hadn’t once let myself consider this outcome. Now, the ramifications of what had happened weighed heavily on me. This was my fault for treating Kenna as an afterthought—for only coming to her on my terms, and always giving her less than she wanted or deserved. I had been a complete wanker to her for too long, thinking only of my pathetic needs while ignoring Kenna’s. She wore her love for me openly and I arrogantly acknowledged it.

  Anyway the finger of blame pointed, it pointed right back to me, and I would forever have to bear the guilt I felt. It burned in me hotter and more powerful than anything else I had ever experienced.

  Joe Franklin’s fat, ugly face flashed in my mind, and I latched on to it, using it as an anchor and purpose to keep me focused. Besides taking care of Kenna, making Joe suffer as much as he made my love suffer were my mandates now.

  “Sloan?” Brody’s voice shook me from my dark thoughts, and I turned to him. Before I could respond, the door opened and Kenna stepped out. Though she looked refreshed after her hot, then cold shower, nothing could erase the effects her captivity had had on her. She was too skinny and far too pale, and that damn black eye made me want to punch the wall.

  “When was the last time you ate?” I asked her, barely containing the rage inside.

  “I don’t remember. He didn’t feed me much.” She pulled at the edge of her shirt as if embarrassed. “Mostly bread and water. Sometimes, Delaney would sneak in protein bars when she could.”

  “Fuck!” My jaw clenched together so tightly, there was a good chance I had cracked one or more of my teeth. “Soup. I’ll go in the kitchen and heat some.”

  I kissed her forehead and left the room. Having a job to do made me feel useful, and it gave Kenna a chance to talk privately with Brody and Allison.

  Rummaging through the cabinet, I stopped when I found a can of tomato soup. I knew from all the years of listening to her with Irelyn and Rachel that tomato was the only canned soup she liked. Funny how that trivial detail stuck when the more important things about her didn’t.

  Or not funny. It was just another reminder of how badly I had fucked up.

  When I returned to the bedroom, Kenna sat propped up against the head board of my cherry wood four-poster bed.

  “Tomato. You’re favorite soup?” I asked, wanting to show her that I did know something about her no matter how stupid.

  “Yeah. Thanks.” Her lips curved slightly upward, reminding me of all the smiles and grins we’d shared throughout the years. But this one didn’t light up her eyes the way looking at me used to do, and that hurt me almost as bad as everything else.

  I wanted to get my phone and show her all the pictures I had of us—all the ones that showed how happy we’d been together. More than anything, I wanted to see happiness return to her beautiful face.

  Instead, the three of us watched Kenna eat her first semi-real meal in weeks.

  “All right, then,” Allison said in her no nonsense way as soon as Kenna had finished her last spoonful.

  I sat on my hand and bit my lip to stop myself from calling out her less-than-sympathetic demeanor. It was starting to piss me off.

  “For tonight, I’d like you to rest as much as possible. I’ll give you a sedative with some pain medication for your ribs. Then tomorrow, I’d like you to come to my office where I’ll administer the RU-486 drug to induce the abortion. The process takes fourteen days.”

  My mind blanked out as she continued to explain the procedure. I knew I should be paying attention because certainly Kenna wasn’t in any condition to absorb it all herself, but the idea the baby could be mine unhinged me. I wasn’t sure how I really felt about this, but, in the end, it didn’t matter. My feelings didn’t hold sway over Kenna’s decision.

  They couldn’t.

  “On the third day, you’ll return to my office and I’ll administer the final medication. During this process, you’ll experience cramping, heavy bleeding, and probable nausea. I will give you meds for the pain and the nausea. If you spike a fever, bleed through more than two pads in one hour, call me immediately. Complications are rare, but do occur. Any questions so far?” She tilted her head to the side and waited, but Kenna and I both shook our heads.

  “Okay. On the fourteenth day, you’ll return once more to my office where I’ll examine you to make sure the abortion is complete.”

  “Do these abortions fail?” Kenna’s brows pulled together in obvious horror at the thought.

  In an unexpected move, Allison sat on the edge of the bed and took Kenna’s hand in hers.

  “Only about five percent experience incomplete abortions. I trust you will be within the ninety-five percentile. I can only imagine how difficult this is for you given the situation, and I’d like you to take the night to rest and think it over. If you decide this is how you’d like to proceed, or if you’d like to discuss other options, we can do that tomorrow. You’re young and healthy, Kenna, and there’s no physical reason you ca
n’t go on to have a normal, healthy reproductive life if that’s what you desire.”

  She gently placed her hand on the side of Kenna’s face and smiled kindly at her. “It’s the emotional wounds that take much longer to heal, I’m afraid.”

  The doctor dropped her hand and returned to her bag where she pulled out two medicine bottles I assumed were the pain meds and sedative.

  I watched as Brody got to his feet. Though he’d been quiet through most of the exam, I knew he wanted to be here for Kenna, and his presence was nothing if not calming; he had that way about him.

  When Brody and Allison left, leaving Kenna and I alone, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. I wanted to be the man that would help her recover. I wanted to pull her to me and tell her that I loved her so much that I couldn't see straight.

  But fear I would come off desperate, or worse yet, guilt ridden, kept me silent. When the time was right, I would tell her all those things, but not now. Her wounds were still wide open and raw, and I didn’t want my declaration to be clouded by guilt and remorse.

  As I stared into Kenna’s sunken eyes and battered face, a sinking feeling hit me that I might not be man enough to fix the broken woman before me. That when all was said and done, I might lose her anyway, regardless of how much I loved her.

  I didn’t know how I would survive if that ever came to pass.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kenna

  Fourteen Days Later

  ALLISON FINISHED THE sonogram, and set the wand aside. She wiped the goo from my belly and covered me with a paper sheet.

  “The abortion is complete and I’ve inserted your IUD.” She pulled off her gloves and tossed them into the trash. “You’re bleeding has ceased as well. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine.” The pregnancy was gone. All the cramps, puking, and bleeding had stopped. The baby that might have been Sloan’s didn’t exist anymore. So yeah, I was fine.

  Fucking perfect.

  “With the insertion of the IUD, you may resume sexual activity as soon as you feel comfortable,” Allison added as she washed her hands.

  “Okay.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the table, taking care to keep the paper sheet over my lap. I didn’t have anything else to say since I had no idea when, and if, Sloan and I would ever have sex again. Right now, sex was the last thing on my mind.

  “You’re hormones may still be a little on the wonky side. With all you’ve been through, don’t be surprised if you remain hyper emotional for a few more days.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. “Any questions, Kenna?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “Brody tells me you’ve talked with him a few times. I hope you’ll continue to do so. If you don’t feel comfortable with him, I can suggest a counselor that specializes in situations like yours.” Her no-nonsense expression softened, and I saw understanding in her gaze. “Don’t keep it internalized. It will eat you alive if you do.”

  “You know from personal experience, don’t you?” I didn’t know why I asked, but something about her—perhaps the understanding glint in her brown eyes—told me the good doctor had walked a mile in my shoes.

  “Yes.” She pushed off the counter. “I was raped, beaten within an inch of my life, and left for dead almost two years ago. So yes, I understand. You can survive this Kenna, but you have to make a conscious decision to do that, then you have to work each day to put it behind you. Sloan cares about you. Let him help you.”

  I sighed, wishing I could do as she suggested—wishing the widening chasm between Sloan and me didn’t exist. Unfortunately, we seemed to be moving in different directions. Or rather, I remained perfectly still while he let his rage and need for revenge push him further and further away from me.

  Each day, Sloan searched high and low for Joe Franklin, and he wasn’t going to stop until he found him. He did this for me, both in an attempt to make me feel safe and to make Franklin pay for what he’d done. But part of me wondered if it was also about soothing his own guilt over the way he had treated me. Instead of feeling soothed by his actions, I felt shut out. It didn’t help I was an emotional wreck given to throwing stupid, irrational fits at a moment’s notice.

  Allison squeezed my shoulder, and then left the room. I took my time dressing in my shorts and pink peasant top, knowing Sloan would be waiting for me outside to take me back to his loft.

  I touched my left wrist where my missing bracelet once hung. Sloan had given it to me for my birthday and I treasured it above most everything.

  But like everything else I had lost, the chances of getting it back were slim to none.

  For a moment, I thought about going out the back door instead and avoiding him altogether. Only, I had nowhere to go, and no way to get there even if I did. Plus, it wasn’t worth upsetting Sloan when I didn’t show.

  Nothing in my life felt like it belonged to me. I was a loose end twisting in a constant wind. I had yet to see my parents, Cory, or Rachel, and they were beyond pissed at me. I knew it hurt them, but I couldn’t deal with them and the abortion at the same time.

  I tried to explain to them over a video call, but they didn’t understand how I could choose Sloan over my family, and my mom basically accused me of trading one captivity for another.

  Maybe they were right. Certainly, the memories of what had happened held me captive on a nightly basis. Not even the Ambien Brody prescribed allowed me a peaceful night’s sleep.

  I was a fucking wreck and the more I tried to fix myself, the more I became aware I might just be unfixable.

  For a solitary person who had always been comfortable in her own skin, I found it almost impossible to just be. My skin didn’t seem to fit the woman inside anymore, and I wasn’t sure if I could stretch it back into place.

  Pushing through the double, glass doors, I walked out into the bright, summer sunshine and shielded my eyes as I searched the parking lot for Sloan. It didn’t take long for me to find him. The gorgeous Irishman stood out in a crowd—a dark and dangerous sentinel. Alone and leaning against his black Challenger, the man was too hot for words.

  A pang of desire coursed through me just like it used to whenever I saw him. But things were different now, and I didn’t know how to deal with the way I felt for him. Guilt and shame over terminating a baby that might have been his tainted my desire for him.

  “Everything all right, love?” He pulled me to him and kissed me soundly.

  I pulled back from him and placed my hands on his green, Republic of Ireland soccer shirt. The firmness of his chest beneath my hands made me shiver a little. I squelched the feeling and stepped back from him.

  Sloan pushed his Ray Bans down his nose and considered me with his intense gunmetal grays.

  “Kenna?”

  “Everything is fine.” I forced a smile to my face. “Good as new.”

  “So it’s over?” He arched one dark brow at me.

  “Yep, all done.” I shrugged. “Like it never happened.”

  “Kenna?” He said my name again and tilted my chin upward, gazing hard at me as if his intense stare would change my answer. There was a plea in his voice I didn’t understand, as if he wanted, or expected, me to act differently. But it was what it was, and I’d quickly discovered how I felt or didn’t feel, changed nothing.

  “What?” I shook my head and dropped my chin. “My ribs are healed. My tests all came back negative for anything. I’m back on birth control. We’re good to go.”

  “We’re good to go?” His eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah. We can have sex whenever we want. It’s all good. I’m fine.” I swallowed and smiled a little wider, but when he grabbed my arm, I knew I had failed in my attempts to make it all seem normal.

  “What are you not telling me, Kenna?”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing else to tell you.” I shook off his hold and dug in my handbag and searched out my own Ray Bans. When I put them in place, I relaxed a little, knowing they hid the truth in my eyes
.

  I wanted to run fast and far in an attempt to outrun my truth, but sadly it remained. My legs and my spirit didn’t have the ability to carry me far enough away.

  “Fine,” he said and opened my car door.

  “Fine,” I agreed and slid inside.

  We drove for a while in silence, listening to the radio until he pressed the power button and turned it off.

  “I spoke with Zolt and Irelyn today. They’re coming over for dinner tonight.” His eyes darted in my direction, and then back to the road.

  “What? Why? I don’t really feel like socializing, Sloan.” I huffed out an irritated breath.

  “I know you don’t, and I get that, love. I do. But Irelyn is your best friend and…” He took off his sunglasses and looked me square in the eyes. “And she, more than anyone, understands some of what you’re going through.”

  “Really?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Was she raped? Did she have to terminate a child that might have been fathered by the man she loves? Did any of that happen to her?”

  “No.” The word came out in a hurtful sigh, and I hated I had made him feel that way.

  “Look Kenna, I’m worried about you. I just want to see the bright-eyed girl you used to be. I think seeing your best friend might help.” He tried to caress my arm, but I moved out of his reach.

  “Yeah, well she’s gone Sloan. Long fucking gone.” I hugged myself tightly and stared out the window.

  Sloan sighed, and we drove the rest of the way to his loft in an uncomfortable silence. I turned on my MP3 player and let myself get lost in Seether’s “Breakdown” in order to keep from biting his head off for making decisions for me. But then again, wasn’t that what Sloan always did when it came to me? To us? He made the decisions based on what he felt, or what he decided needed to happen. Everything centered around him, and I was starting to resent it.

  “Are Rachel and Cory coming, too?”

  “No, just Zolt and Irelyn.”

  “Fine.”

  Later that evening, we sat in Sloan’s loft with Zolt and Irelyn, drinking wine and beer after eating pizza. I felt like a freak on display, all eyes glued to my every move as they waited for me to do or say something outrageous.

 

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