30. Theo
Theo
W e wait in front of the mirror.
“I hate this thing,” Max mutters. “And where’s Abrams? They said they’d told him.”
“It’s not for long,” Oscar says shortly. But he’s leaning forward, his brow knotted behind his glasses. “Kenny gets through this, and we’re done.”
Done with this place. Fuck, that’s a nice thought. Kenny, at home with us. Safe, and warm, and happy.
So we wait. The seconds stretch out.
“They should have turned it on by now.” My voice is tight. “What’s going on?”
“Hey!” Jake looks up at the camera in the corner. Waves his hand and points. “Switch it on.”
Nothing. Our faces stare back, expressions shifting into worry.
My chest tightens. Squeezes. “Something is… wrong. With Kenny.”
They all turn to look at me as I grit out the words. My palms rub against my chest, trying to soothe it. But I can’t. Not when it’s one-sided.
But I can feel it. Feel the fear that creeps in, grows. “We need to get in there. She’s panicking.”
Oscar vanishes, disappearing around the corner. Jake and Max exchange looks, moving around out of my line of sight and banging on the door to her room.
I move to the slot, jab the code in with shaking fingers.
Nothing. Only a red, flashing light. They even changed the fucking code.
They locked us out. Split us up. Separated us from her.
My fingers press into the glass. “Come on, baby. We’re here, Ken.”
But the pain, the worry, it creeps higher. Until my own breathing is harsh and jagged, my fingers curled against the wall that separates us.
I slam my hand into it as Oscar’s footsteps pound down the hall. “I got them to pull up the cameras, but they’re switched off.”
They switched off the camera in her room . “That sound above board to you?”
I turn my attention back to the glass, stepping back to look at the corners. “I’m getting into that room, Oz.”
A pulse of something… dark , hits, and I almost fold over. “Right fucking now.”
Rage swells in my stomach, and I smash my hand against the glass with a roar.
Once.
Twice.
A crack appears, splintering my enraged reflection.
Another.
Not again. Whatever the fuck this is, we’re not losing her again. Not to the Center. Not to her own nightmares.
We are not losing you, Kenny.
Two-way glass is still… just glass. It fractures and gives way under my hands, cutting slices into my skin. I barely see the others as they join in, the four of us smashing our way through until a hundred different lines spread out.
The glass wobbles. And then it falls, crashing around us in thousands of sharp, broken shards.
A dozen faces turn to us. Most of them are hidden behind those ridiculous helmets. Joanne is plastered against the far wall, her face pale.
And on the bed… is Kenny . Her face ashen, tear-stained, but still her.
“I’ve got you.” I slip her arms under her as she throws herself into me, lifting her and backing away from all of them. “It’s okay.”
She sobs into my neck, and I snarl at the closest person. “What the fuck is this? What are you trying to do to her?”
A face in the corner catches my eye. “And who the fuck are you?”
He looks like a suit. Turning slowly, he dips his head. “Thomas Parker. I’m the… chair of the board.”
Against my neck, a small snarl ripples. Pulling her closer, I let Oscar, Jake and Max spread out, keeping everyone back.
But I’m staring at him. At his face. “I know you.”
“I don’t think so.” He looks away from me. “This was… challenging. We’ll find Kennedy a new room immediately. Try again.”
Max’s hand clamps onto his shoulder. “Don’t move.”
I move closer, my hand cupping Kenny’s head. She’s shaking, and rage nearly blinds me. Until I get close enough to see his face.
And my blood turns cold. “I do know you.”
Not him. But his face.
“Who?” Oscar moves up beside me, frowning. “You do look familiar.”
Because he should recognize him too.
“Tell me,” I say tightly. “Why does my father have a photo of the two of you in his office?”
Some sort of golf tournament. I can see it, see the gaudy frame where it hangs on the wall, the two of them grinning as they hoist an oversized trophy in the air.
And the pieces… click . A puzzle that comes together in my head with dawning, horrific clarity.
Every drawn-out process. Every delay. Every frustrating conversation that ended with a refusal. Every fucking day, we have fought and battled for the bare fucking minimum.
Because of this man. “Doing a favour for a friend, by any chance? An old buddy?”
The guy shakes his head with a nervous laugh. But he steps back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” I glance down. Kenny’s hand is curled in my shirt, gripping it. “And you and I both know this discussion is finished. No more tests. We’re taking our mate home. Immediately. And you’ll be hearing from us again, you asshole.”
“Thomas?” Joanne finally finds a semblance of a fucking voice as she looks between us. “What does he mean? What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” Thomas doesn’t look at any of us. “If you think that’s best.”
“I do.” I look down again. “Baby, Oscar is going to take you. Okay?”
She nods silently, reaching for him until my arms are free. Thomas’s eyes widen as I stride forward. My hands find his throat. “You tell my father that I know. I suggest you resign, at the very least. But know that I’m going to make sure you pay for every day that she’s been here. Every fucking day.”
I step back, letting him slump against the wall. “We’re leaving.”
Joanne opens her mouth.
“ Don’t .” There’s a warning in my voice. “This isn’t a goddamned discussion.”
Even the suits look uncertain, shifting in their fucking circle. I point to Thomas, making sure they all hear me. “This man has been using his position to interfere with my mate’s care, likely at the request of my father. They seem to be good fucking friends. I suggest you fix it, because this is not done.”
None of us say anything else. Max and Jake sweep the room, grabbing the few things she might want to take.
Oscar holds Kenny tightly. “We’re taking you home, Kenny. Okay?”
I think those might be the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.
“Let’s go.”