28. Oscar
Oscar
K enny burrows her head in my chest, breathing in. Her cheek rubs against the material in a blatant scent-marking gesture as my hand comes to rest in the small of her back, gently rubbing. “Where were you?”
My heart turns over at the small, plaintive question. “It took longer than I thought, but I got an update from the board.”
She pulls her head back to look at me. Her golden skin still looks sallow, washed out from the light in this damn room.
She needs sunlight. Fresh air. I can see the desperation in her eyes that she tries to hide, and it’s killing me that we can’t give it to her.
And this… no, I don’t like this.
“They want to assess you themselves,” I say gently. My eyes lift briefly, taking in the others. All of them look pissed. They’re about to get worse. “And… we’re not allowed to be in the room, Ken.”
She blanches. Her head is already moving, shaking. “No.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Max straightens, his hands clenching into fists. Kenny leans back into him, visibly shrinking as he draws her into his arms. “Of course we need to be there.”
Theo is rubbing at his chest. His face is pained. “What’s their reasoning?”
My mouth twists. I address my words to Kenny. Trying to explain to my mate why we have to leave her for this part. “They think that we might be an inadvertent shield. They want to see how you respond without us.”
She wilts. “In case I turn back.”
“That’s bullshit.” Jake crosses his arms. “She’s not turning back. Even Abrams agrees. The data doesn’t support it.”
“That was a big part of our argument, but they’re not moving.” I failed her. Again. “You don’t have to do this, Ken.”
Rumbled agreement sounds from all of us. Theo shifts, his body angled toward her. I can see the refusal written across every part of his face. He hasn’t left this room in days. Never more than a few feet from her, even as they dance around each other like uncomfortable acquaintances.
Max’s arms settle on her shoulders, rubbing them as she swipes a hand down her face. “But it’s the only way they’ll agree to let me out? I can’t leave unless I pass this damn test?”
I nod. “But we’ll be watching. Right on the other side of the glass.”
She glances toward the mirror. Her torn expression bounces back to us. “I don’t want to be in here anymore.”
And she shouldn’t be. She can’t heal here . This isn’t a place for recovery. It’s a place for coping. For the bare minimum.
It’s so easy to step forward. To drop my forehead until I can just about rest it against hers. Her breathing warms my face. “Remember what I said?”
“I can do this,” she whispers after a moment. “This is nothing.”
After everything she’s been through. “Not nothing. But you can do this, Ken. And we’ll be right there, even if we’re not in the same room. Only a few feet.”
She takes a breath. “Okay. I’m ready to – to leave. So I’ll do it.”
Theo shakes his head when I step away. But he says nothing, fixing his eyes on the floor.
“Another few days,” I say to her. “And you’re coming home, Ken.”
And maybe I can start to rebuild this pack, with Kenny at our heart. To focus on living, instead of barely surviving.