8. Kennedy
Kennedy
I almost forgot how much I hated working here the first time around.
I plunge my hands into the now greasy water, grimacing as I pull out the plug and let it drain away. Beside me, Mick drops another stack of scraped plates and huffs. “Don’t waste hot water.”
“If I wash any more in this, they’ll be worse than when they went in.” I start running the faucet again. “Ever heard of a dishwasher?”
He only rolls his eyes, jerking his thumb toward the customer area. I can hear the noise from where I’m crammed into the corner of the tiny kitchen. The two chefs shout at each other from the grills, both of them studiously ignoring me as they have all night. “I might need help clearing up out there.”
My hands pause. “I thought I was back of house only.”
He clicks his tongue. “Nobody will notice you picking up a few glasses. Mandy called in sick, so we’re rushed off our feet. You want to get paid, you’ll go where you’re needed.”
Great. My hair sticks damply to the back of my neck as I twist it, trying to stretch out the lingering ache. “I’ll finish these first and I’ll be out. There’s no space otherwise.”
He glances down at the rolled neck sweater I’ve donned for tonight, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m more liquid than human at this point, the air hot and my bandages itchy as hell, but I’d rather have people question my fashion sense than why a good third of my skin is under wraps.
He nods toward the shelf of marketing tat he bought years ago with the hopes that everyone in town would buy it, only to be disappointed. “Borrow a cap if you need to.”
“Wonderful.” I mutter it as he disappears again. It takes me a good fifteen minutes to work through the stack he left me, and I feel as though I’m on fire by the time I back away from the sink. Grabbing a vibrant red cap with Mick’s Diner emblazoned across the front, I shove my hair underneath it and pull it low in an attempt to hide my face before untying my apron.
My hands are trembling, and I squeeze them into fists in an attempt to stave off the shaking. I won’t last long if I end up dropping everything, and we need this job. I left Rick at home on the couch, his face painted with irritation that he wasn’t spending his evening at the bar. It told me enough about the state of our finances that he didn’t even have a beer in his hand.
Dire fucking straights.
Squaring my shoulders, I grab a tray and push the swinging door open. The noise hits me like a wall – laughter, and shouting, and the hum of music from the jukebox. Keeping my head lowered, I shift between groups of people who didn’t get here early enough to score a coveted booth on a Friday night.
There isn’t much else to do here on a weekend, aside from the bar a few doors down.
I spot far too many faces I recognize as I weave through the crowd, but nobody pays me much attention as I stack glasses and run them back to the kitchen for washing. At least we have a glass washer.
It’s not until Mick pushes me over to the booths that somebody spots me. I pause at the loud squeal.
“Oh my god. Is that you , Kennedy?”
A hand grabs my wrist as I reach for an empty glass, and I flinch back instinctively. The glasses on the tray wobble as I tip my head back, accidentally exposing my face.
“It is you!”
Kristen Edwards looks half-delighted, half-wary. “I thought you’d left town. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
My head bobs in a nod. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just grab these—,”
Kristen Edwards never liked me much. She liked Brett and Theo far better. Her smiling mask slips, giving me a glimpse of pure malice as she raises her voice in sugary sweetness. “Well, I know who’d just love to see you. Hey, Theo!”
I freeze. No.
She shouts again, and more faces turn to us. “Theo!”
Move. Now.
I can’t do this here.
I can’t.
I back up, but there’s so many people that my tray slips in my sweating palms. A glass slides straight off the end and smashes against the floor, sending up a cheer from the crowd. The amusement starts to peter out, replaced by whispers as people get a look at my face.
“Is that Kennedy Traylor?”
“Oh my god.”
“Do you know—,”
“I heard she—,”
But I’m watching Kristen, as she smiles again. This smile isn’t for me. It’s coy, and inviting, and curled at the edges. “Did you know Kennedy was working here? Because I didn’t!”
I step back, colliding with a solid chest. The glasses shake as I fight to keep them upright. Hands grab the tray, pulling it away, and I spin, raising my hands—
Everything stops. At least, it feels like it.
The air escapes my lungs, constricting, choking me.
Those eyes —
I skitter back, only to have another pair of hands land on my shoulder. A low voice murmurs in my ear. “Been a while, Kenny.”
Max. Those are Max’s hands. And in front of me, glaring with green eyes that glimmer like emeralds in the low light, is—
“Theo,” I whisper.
He doesn’t say anything. I tear my eyes from his, swallowing down the burst of fear before I look to the men on either side of him. Oscar raises his eyebrow, as if reminding me of our discussion earlier. And next to him, Jake doesn’t smile. His lips press together as his gaze runs over me, assessing.
And then his lip curls. He leans into Oscar, murmuring something that makes him tip his head back with a sharp laugh. But it’s not amusement. It’s almost cruel, the edge of a bark to it that has me shrinking back, instinct pushing me to look for a way out as they surround me.
“I don’t think so,” Max murmurs. He blocks my way, stopping me from escaping.
“Please,” I whisper. My eyes move past Theo, and I feel him stir.
I don’t know what I’m asking for. I can’t even look at him. Not properly. “I need to get back to the kitchen.”
Don’t pass out here. Not in front of everyone.
I force air into my lungs, dragging it inside by sheer force of will.
It hits me, all at once. Max’s woodsy spruce and bergamot; Oscar’s spice, Jake’s comforting laundry. And Theo’s musk – leather and amber and warmth .
Such familiar scents, all of them. Scents I always loved. But today they feel different.
I breathe them all in, and my stomach… flips . My breathing slows, deepening. My eyes lower, even as my heart begins to beat faster, like the wings of a hummingbird.
And my own scent… it ripples out in a wave that crashes over the people around me as my hand drops to cover my stomach.
I’m so hot. So, so hot. A noise sounds in my throat as my whole body flushes, and I waver on my feet.
Max’s breath against my ear makes me shiver as he presses into me. It turns uneven. “What the fuck is this?”
“Look at me.” Theo’s demand has me tilting further. Leaning forward in sudden, desperate need—
I lift my eyes at the same time as Oscar swears, low and violent. Theo’s face has changed, from anger to shock . “No. Not possible.”
Jake steps forward, and I snap my head to him. He pauses, tilting his head as he breathes in. And his voice… it’s low, and deep, and it makes that clenching in my lower body worsen even as the word tears out of him.
“ Mate .”
My thoughts feel foggy. Clouded, smothered with that need that somehow seems more important than anything else. Because nothing could be more important than this feeling.
There’s no… there’s no pain.
I’d forgotten what that felt like.
Only a floating, warm feeling. The noise ripples from my throat as I press myself back, into the scent of the forest and herbs and home. Turning my face, I press into Max, feeling his breath hitch beneath my cheek.
A whine, high and desperate, claws from my throat.
A word filters through the haze.
Mates.
That’s what this is. That’s what home feels like.
I twist, needing to get closer, but the warmth disappears.
The world tilts as I fall forward.
My knees smack into the floor, my hands flying out to cover my fall.
I blink. The room is silent. In the distance, muffled laughter sounds.
“No.” The rasp comes from behind me. “Not possible. It can’t be.”
Twisting again, I reach for him. For any of them.
My mates. Sudden, desperate hope floods my chest.
I could survive this.
I lift my eyes, that noise sounding in my throat again. I don’t even care that everyone is watching. That people are laughing.
It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters but this.
My hand is shoved roughly away. “ No .”
I let it drop to the floor, bracing myself. My body begins to shake, the warmth draining away and replaced by a rapid coolness that spreads across my skin, pebbling it.
My fingers curl into the lino as understanding filters in. Clarity.
When my face lifts – when I force it up – I know what I’m going to see. But it still feels like a punch to my solar plexus.
They stand together, shoulder to shoulder. All four of them stare down at me.
And between us, between each of us, I can almost feel it. As if it were a physical line, stretching between us. Pulling me toward them.
A mating bond.
Not complete. Not yet. But it could be.
And gods, if this is only the beginning – what would a full bond feel like, with their bites in my skin and mine in theirs? I shuffle forward, unable to resist that pull. Jake shifts, but Oscar’s hand lands against his chest.
Stop.
I force myself into stillness.
Get up. Don’t let them see you cry.
Because I am crying. I can feel it, feel the moisture gathering in the edges of my eyes, trickling down my face.
I need them. I need them like I need air.
But they don’t move. Their faces are set like stone.
And around us, everybody is watching the show. Getting a front view seat to a mating bond rejection.
My shoulders stiffen. Get up, Kenny.
I push myself to my feet. And the pain returns in a sudden, almost blinding rush of breathless agony that makes my already foggy head swim as I stagger upright. But there’s a new layer, a shooting stab that thumps inside my chest.
As if I can feel their rejection with every pulse of my heart.
I face them, and their judgment. My chin lifts. “I need to get back to work.”
Oscar opens his mouth, before he closes it again and glances at Theo.
He’s still staring. “You’re not our mate.”
I flinch, despite myself. “Believe me. You wouldn’t be my first choice either.”
Theo reaches out, and I waver. But he grips my arm, in exactly the same place where Oscar did. I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from crying out as he shakes me. “What the fuck did you do?”
Mating bonds are rare. Rare enough that I almost don’t blame him for his disbelief. But anger still seeps in, filling in the cracks of my heart they’re creating with every moment that they just fucking stand there. “I didn’t do anything. Get your damn hands off me.”
Anger is easier. I have more than enough of it to spare. And I’d rather show them my anger than my pain.
I don’t know what hurts more – Theo’s grip, or the distance when he pulls back. I have to stop myself from moving with him, and I bite the inside of my cheek hard, tasting copper and iron on my tongue as I take a step away from them.
My thoughts churn.
This doesn’t change anything, Kennedy.
Realization is a shock of cold water.
It only makes it more important.
They can’t know. They can never know.
“Impossible.” Theo’s eyes glint again as he runs a hand through his hair. The newly acquired tattoo on his neck flexes, the hand wrapped around his throat a mockery of the feeling that closes up my own as I watch him warily. “What the fuck ?”
“Theo,” Oscar murmurs. He looks shell shocked. “This is not the place.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he spits out the words. “Do any of you want her?”
As if I’m a thing, to be passed around. My cheeks heat. And one by one, they all shake their heads. Jake hesitates, but he looks away as he agrees with them.
They don’t want me.
They’re certainly not going to be saving me.
And it shouldn’t matter. Because I’m going somewhere they can’t follow. Somewhere I’d never want to trap them, and fuck Abrams and his suggestion for giving me that tiny piece of hope in the first place.
But somehow, it does matter. It matters a lot, I realize.
Of all the people in the world, I would have at least liked my mates to want me.
Dull, heavy numbness steals over my body as I turn away.
“Where the hell are you going?” Theo snaps behind me. “We have things to discuss.”
I stop. At my side, my hands curl into fists. “You seem to have decided everything. I have a job to do. Enjoy your food.”
I breathe in and out as I stride away, cutting through the watching crowd and pushing the kitchen door open.
A moment later, Mick follows me. His face is almost purple. “I said no trouble .”
“There’ll be no trouble from me.” I reach for my apron, but he stops me, blocking my path.
“You broke glasses.” He thrusts the pan into my hands. “Clean them up.”
For fucks’ sake. “I’ll swap half my wages not to go back out there tonight.”
“Then you don’t come back at all.”
I resist the urge to punch him in his wide-set nose. “Fine.”
I don’t look. Not as I stride back into the still quiet room, pushing through until I reach the area where broken glass sprinkles the floor. The hushed conversation cuts off as I kneel, sweeping up the pieces.
A shadow falls over the floor, and I swallow. Freshly washed laundry. An intoxicating scent for anyone, but especially an omega. “Can you move, please? I can’t see.”
“Kennedy.”
My throat tightens. “Go away, Jake. You made your stance perfectly clear.”
“It’s not that easy, and you know it.”
A hand appears in my face, and I instinctively slap it away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Let me help you—,”
“I don’t want your help,” I snap. Rising to my feet, I hold onto the pan of glass. “I don’t want anything from you. We can forget the bond even exists, okay?”
Gods. They’re all so tall . I’d almost forgotten. My eyes barely level with Jake’s shoulders as he sighs. I don’t look up. Rumpled brown hair - the shade of chestnuts - and deep blue eyes will not help me here. Not when it feels as though I’m clinging onto my sanity with every second that passes. When every part of me wants to reach for him. “I’m not sure that’s possible, Ken.”
But I’m not listening. A new thought enters my head, one that has my breathing speeding up again.
What happens to them? When I die?
I’ve heard stories of bonded alphas unable to live without their omegas. Of accidents, followed by heart attacks on the same day.
Once, I might have dreamed of that kind of love. Before reality set in. Now, it sounds like a nightmare.
I could drag them down with me, after everything. After my silence, and my pain, and their anger – all of it will be for nothing if this bond links them to me.
Shit . “I have to go, Jake.”
But he blocks my way, forcing me to look up at him. Jake’s eyes are dark, his brows scrunched. “Just gonna ignore this too, then? Like everything else?”
The sharpness of his words barely makes a dent in the pain. But my hurt rises up anyway, taking over my mouth. “I wasn’t the one who just stood there and rejected their fated fucking mate in front of half the town. You did that. Therefore, there is no us . So back the hell off and let me finish my damn shift before I lose my job.”
He doesn’t move for a long minute. But I hear his murmur well enough as I push past him. “This isn’t done.”
The hell it’s not. It was done the moment they left me on my fucking knees. Dying or not, I won’t beg for scraps from a table I’m not invited to.
Easier this way , I tell myself.
If things were different, if they cared, it would be so much worse.
I toss the glass shards away before resuming my post. Mick doesn’t ask me to go back out again, grunting each time he drops a new stack in front of me.
Mates.
I have mates .
I found them. And they’re the boys I would have given anything for just a year ago. I would have sold my soul for a chance to be theirs, would have crawled on broken shards of glass for something as permanent as a mating bond. Something that meant I could stay with them.
Funny how things change.
By the time I’m done, I can barely keep my eyes open. Every part of me aches, and I know my bandages are leaking again. Mick lets me out of the back door before locking up and shoving some cash into my hand. “Same time tomorrow. No trouble this time.”
I don’t have the energy to muster up any sort of response. And I have to walk home, thanks to my broken fucking bike.
“Kenny.”
I whirl at the sound, my hands flying up. Max holds up his own hands. “Sorry.”
Slowly, I lower them. “What are you doing here?”
He frowns, glancing up the street. It’s late enough that there’s nobody around. “Are you walking back? Where’s your bike?”
A hint of warmth brushes my heart. “Kind of you to give a fuck.”
He moves alongside me as I begin to walk away. “I’ll take you back. I have the truck.”
“Where are the others?” I don’t hide the bite in my words. “My other mates ?”
He folds his arms. “I took them back. Theo was… I took them home.”
Just like that, any anger deflates, replaced by guilt. “Look, I’m tired, Max. I’m not in the mood for a battle. Not after—,”
After that.
After finding them, and losing them, all within a minute.
His inhale is soft. “Me neither. Just a ride. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
I blink. “The bond is pushing you, isn’t it?”
It’s not me he cares about. He’d probably rather see me struggle up the mountain. But the mating bond is a weird thing. He rubs at his neck, the flush on his cheeks dark in the dim light. “Yeah. But you get a ride home out of it, so stop complaining and get in the damn truck.”
When I don’t say anything, he smiles crookedly. “Please.”
It feels like a slope I don’t want to be on. But I silently follow him, my limbs throbbing too much to turn down the offer as I crawl into the seat. I press my lips together as Max climbs in on the other side. “This is Theo’s truck.”
His scent saturates the space. Max glances at me, his mouth thinning. “Yeah.”
I try not to breathe too deeply as I wind the window down, angling my face into the breeze. In the corner of my eye, I watch as Max throws his arm around the back of my chair and reverses out of the space. His blond hair is longer than it was, and he pushes it out of his face before his hands return to the wheel, fingers flexing. “Max?”
“Mhm?” He glances at me. “You cold?”
I frown as he reaches forward. “No. Why are you doing this?”
His fingers fall away. “You’re my mate, Kennedy. Our mate.”
“You staking a claim, then?” I keep my eyes trained on the world outside the window, blinking rapidly. “Did something change in the last two hours?”
He hesitates, and his silence tells me everything. “Didn’t think so.”
“Jeez,” he mutters. “Spiky much?”
I stiffen at the judgment in his words. “I’m not fucking wrong, though. Am I?”
“You know why we said no.” His hands tighten on the wheel. “What the hell were we supposed to say , Kenny? What did you expect? Did you expect Theo to throw his arms around you in joy?”
My vision blurs. You were supposed to choose me . “I think I can walk from here, actually.”
I need to keep away from them. It was stupid to say yes.
“It’s another half hour at least by foot.” He doesn’t slow down.
“Stop the car, Max.”
When he doesn’t, I slam my hands down hard against the dashboard. “I said, stop the damn car .”
He swerves to the side of the road, swearing, but I’ve already thrown the door open and slid out, slamming it closed behind me as I start to walk.
A moment later, the truck pulls up beside me, keeping pace. It’s not hard. I think I’m limping. “Get back in the truck. I swear to God; you’re the most hard-headed omega I’ve ever met.”
“Then go and find a fucking princess for a mate.” I blink, and there’s wet on my cheeks again. I swipe it away before he sees. “Sorry I’m not fucking perfect .”
Max would have loved a sweet, submissive omega. Instead, he gets me. An awkward, socially inept, borderline violent omega with a penchant for lying and a disease that’s rotting me from the inside out.
Better luck next time.
A pause. And his voice softens in a way that makes my stomach do little somersaults. Gentling. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“It was clear enough to me.” I kick at the dirt on the floor. “I’m fine walking. I do it all the time.”
“I know.” His voice drops. “I didn’t realize you were still up here. You know I always hated you walking back on your own.”
I never walked anywhere when I was with them. Not on my own. “Go home, Max.”
“Not until you’re through your door.”
I force my breathing to steady as I turn to him. He always reminded me of one of those statues you see in the museums. Brett took me to one, once. He told me all about the Greek Gods, and I told him that they reminded me of Max, with their straight noses and curling hair. His hazel eyes gleam with something that might be amusement. But there’s uncertainty there, too. Sadness. “Getting in?”
I kick the side of the truck instead. And then again. Hard. “Go. Home.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. I hear the slam of the door, and I scramble back as he comes storming around. “Could you not ? This isn’t my truck.”
I stare at him. “This is a clusterfuck, Max.”
My voice wavers, and his irritation slides away. It’s always done that. Max wears a smile, a laugh, easier than anyone I’ve ever met. Although he’s not smiling now. Instead, he studies me, as if he’s mapping every curve of my face. Like he’s never seen me before. “We’ll work it out. We have to. You know this changes things, Ken.”
Because there’s no breaking a mating bond. Not as far as I know. They’re permanent. Forever, sorry- you’re-stuck-with-my-toenail-chewing-habit-but-we’re-mates-so-I’ll-love-you-anyway permanent.
The alpha in front of me was made to love me. They all were.
Darkness fills the space around us. It makes me braver than I should be. “Would you have loved me? If it wasn’t for everything else… Would you have been happy it was me?”
“ Yes .” His answer is instant. As if there was never another option. “Always.”
I don’t look at him. “And now?”
Max doesn’t lie. It’s one of the things I always liked about him. So his silence hurts more for the truth that sits within it.
I turn away from him. “I’d like to be alone now. You can at least respect that.”
“Ken—,”
“ Don’t. Don’t act like you care and then tell me you don’t. At least be consistent when you’re tearing me down, Max. Go and be with the others. I’m fine on my own.”
Unlike him, I can lie just fine.
I trudge away from him, into the trees. For a moment, I’ll wonder if he’ll follow. I don’t hear the truck for a long time, but the faint sound of Theo’s engine eventually filters through.
It’s almost pitch-black, but the forest doesn’t scare me. There’s much worse out there than shadows and stars. Max brought me close enough that I don’t have far to walk. It’s barely ten minutes before I reach the trailer, the small light left on outside but the windows dark.
Rick is asleep on the couch, his snoring filling the air. It doesn’t look as if he’s moved since I left.
It feels like days have passed.
Everything has changed, but nothing has changed.
I wash off, changing out my bandages while avoiding actually looking at them before crawling into bed. I wanted to call the clinic, but they’ll be closed until the morning.
If things were different, I’d be with my mates now. That’s the normal way of things. You find your mates, and you never leave them again.
I wonder where they are. If they’re at Jake’s, the way they planned it.
I wonder if they kept the room. The one they told me would be a nesting space. Theo showed me around once, both of us blushing, avoiding each other’s eyes. Eventually, another omega will have that space. A space that I sketched out, offering suggestions on flooring and bedding for Jake to look at while Max pointed out possibilities over my shoulder and the others offered their own feedback.
But it’s not going to be mine.
Of course they’ll move on. They don’t want me, but that doesn’t mean they can’t choose someone else. Very few matings have a true bond.
And it’s not like I’ll be here to see it.
The pain pierces my head, a clap of thunder in my skull. Rolling to my side, I grip my skull with a whimper. Warmth on my face has me brushing my fingers against the top of my lip. When they come away wet, I reach for my lamp. It takes me a few seconds to find it, to slap it on.
My nose is bleeding. Badly.
I scramble out of bed, the ache in my head growing stronger as I stumble to the bathroom for tissue.
It doesn’t stop. Not for a long time.
Long enough that the sink is full of bloody, black-streaked tissue when it finally eases off. I carefully flush it away, cleaning up the bathroom until there’s no trace of blood to be seen before I make my way back to bed.
But I still feel it on my skin.
In my nose.
And wrapped up in the scent of rust, of copper, of metal, is something fresher that makes my stomach churn more than anything else possibly could.
Mango and mint.