18. Theo
Theo
S he slips into the truck before me. When I get in, she’s already wound the window down. “You’re not cold?”
Kennedy shakes her head, not looking at me. She stares out of the window instead, and I take a moment. Just a moment, to look at her.
At the way her hair trails messily from its haphazard bun, tendrils of fire snaking down her back. At the golden skin that covers her face, gleams at me behind her ear. Sunshine skin, I always used to think. Like she consumed sunshine and cast it back out everywhere she went.
Her freckles cover her. A map of Kennedy.
She shifts, tugging down the arms of her sweater, and I pull my gaze away, lead setting in my stomach at the glimpse of white bandages against her skin.
I did that.
I might not have physically pushed her into that glass, but I may as well have.
I fucking barked at her. Held my mate in place and tried to use the mating bond to force information from her.
It’s something my father would do.
I carefully back out of the drive and pull into the road, heading out toward her trailer. “Will Rick be worried that you didn’t come home?”
I glance at her again. She snorts. “What do you think?”
The lead only grows heavier. She doesn’t have anyone in her corner.
She had you, once.
It used to be so easy. I never felt lighter than when I was with her. But now the space between us is filled with secrets and pain that I don’t know how to fix, even if I wanted to.
She stiffens, and I see her fold forward out of the corner of my eye. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She mumbles it, but her voice is shaky. “I… have you got a tissue?”
I’m pulling the truck over. “In the glove compartment. Let me see.”
Her head shakes in refusal, but I notice her fingers trembling as she reaches for the button. “It’ll stop in a minute.”
My heart turns over in my chest. “Your nose is bleeding again?”
“Don’t worry.” She yanks a few tissues from the box, pressing them to her nose and tipping her head forward. “I seem to be prone to them.”
“You’ve never had a nosebleed in your life. You nearly passed out when Max had one by the river.” I still remember the sickly sheen to her skin as she retched and Max tried to cover up the bleeding with his shirt so she didn’t have to see it.
“Maybe I’m allergic to assholes,” she mutters sharply. I flinch back. Her eyes close. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. Sometimes it just… comes out.”
“After two years, I think I've worked that out. Pretty sure I deserved that one.” Setting my hands on the wheel, I wait.
She eyes me, a wad of paper pressed to her nose. “We can go.”
I breathe in, and my nose wrinkles. That twist in her scent is there again. My eyes narrow as I turn to her, my heart beginning to thump. “You’d tell us if something was wrong. If you were… sick?”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Kenny.” I breathe her name, my name, into the air between us. Dread curls around my ribs, cutting off my air. “ Please tell me.”
“You want me to tell you a lot of things,” she whispers.
My heart thuds. “Don’t worry about the rest. Not right now. Tell me the truth.”
She pinches her nose, wriggling it before wiping underneath. There’s a streak of dark blood beneath her nostril. Kennedy inhales when I reach for a tissue and wipe it away, my fingers brushing her face. “I need to get something from the trailer. But I was thinking… we could go for a drive.”
My fingers stop, still touching her skin. “Where d’you want to go?”
I already know what she’s going to say. Some sixth sense that churns my stomach into roiling waves before she even says the words. “I haven’t been back since that day. Have you? Been up there?”
Slowly, I nod. “More than once.”
Every day, for weeks. I combed every inch of that meadow, walked precariously close to that cliff edge, searching for anything that could soothe the rage in my heart, that could answer the questions that haunted me.
I never found anything. “I can get one of the others to take you. I’m not sure I’m the right person, Ken.”
I promised I wouldn’t hurt her, but I did. Shame sits in the bottom of my stomach like a pit, threatening to drag me under.
She’s watching me. “No. It has to be you.”
I swallow, before starting the engine again.
It’s all I’ve wanted for six long months. To know what happened. How they left, happy and healthy and alive, and the next moment, Brett was dead and Kennedy was responsible. Maybe not in the eyes of the law, but in my eyes. In the eyes of our pack.
Except that now it feels like a reality… I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it.
But if she wants to tell me, after I’ve pushed her and barked at her and insulted her, I’ll sit there and listen to every word. Even if I have a feeling that it’s not going to be what I want to hear. “Will you be alright, going there?”
One shoulder tips up. “I have to be.”
I pull up outside the trailer. “I’ll wait. Take your time.”
She vanishes inside, and I settle back, flicking through my phone to try and disrupt the thoughts racing through my head.
A message comes through from Oscar.
I heard from the hikers. We need to talk when you get back.
My fingers stumble. Do I need to know anything now?
His response comes seconds later. Not while you’re driving. Look after her.
I send a final reply, telling him where we’re going. Movement catches my eye, and I slip my phone into my pocket as Kennedy jogs down the steps.
I run my eyes over her as she climbs back in, flushed cheeks and another one of those god-awful sweaters. “Sorry. I had to shower.”
“I don’t mind. I didn’t realize you had such a thing for turtlenecks. It’s going to be a hot day.”
She offers me a quick, closed-lip smile. “They’re easy to throw on, I guess. Must have been a sale when I bought them.”
But Kenny doesn’t wear turtlenecks. She wears band t-shirts and old, faded flannel shirts, and steals our hoodies when she thinks we’re not looking. She always hated having anything around her neck at all.
I scan her again. My eyes catch on her left arm. It looks a little bulky, not quite smooth. She catches me looking, raising her eyebrows. “Are we going or what? Day’s wasting.”
“We’re going.”